And with that...)))
It was faint at first, a wisp of cool breath that did little more than shift a tuft of hair on her head. But she noticed it and it made her shiver. In the warm depths of the Underdark wind was unheard of, and at first she feared she'd been snuck up on by some beast, but when she turned, swords at the ready in her weak and tired hands, all she was met with was emptiness and the perpetual, eternal darkness.
Narsia slumped back against the cavern wall, her blades Sar ha-Panim and Soqed Hezi making a clatter as she all but dropped them onto the ground on either side of her battle weary body. She was beginning to think that this really was the end and that this time she really was going to die.
She reached into her mostly empty haversack that she'd looked through three times since she ate last and, once again, found not even crumbs or even a spare mushroom. She was again reminded of the fact she was out of food, and hadn't found anything remotely edible in days. She didn't even need to look in her sack for water, her burning throat and almost dry tongue was all the reminder she needed that she was out of that as well.
Narsia had thrown away everything for the sake of freedom after having had enough of the drow she once called kin. It sickened her to think she once admired that bitter old harpy she called Mother and the vermin sisters who were always looking for a chance to put a knife in her back and take her place as second daughter. Nothing was sacred to them, nothing but that accursed thing they worshiped. Too many had she seen sacrificed for the glory of that creature, that thing whose name she could not even stand to think after what it had allowed to happen. By all accounts Narsia did not even exist anymore and all traces of House Ny’Dhun had been erased and forgotten in less than a day. All because she refused to rip out the heart of her brother for his supposed heresy. In the span of a heartbeat Narsia had murdered her mother, taken Danatoth and ran. In the span of a heartbeat she had dammed them all.
What little supplies they had stolen were gone, Danatoth was dead and she would no doubt follow when hunger, exhaustion or the beasts of the untamed wilds claimed her. The corrosive venom of an immense spider had already taken her left eye and turned it black as the dark around her and by the way Panim’s glowing runes blurred she feared she would be utterly blind before long. All seemed lost and hopelessness welled bitter tears in Narsia’s good eye. She then began to wonder if perhaps she was better off accepting the Spider Queen’s way. At least then she would still be alive or not dead by starvation at least. If only she hadn’t let her feelings get in the way she could be a powerful priestess by now, possibly her elder sister’s right hand or Matron of House Ny’Dhun herself if she proved clever enough. If only she hadn’t felt pity for the sacrificed. If only the twisted screams of her murdered baby brother hadn’t pierced her so. If only she hadn’t cared, then perhaps she would have lived.
“No!” Narsia cried out weakly and her voice echoed for too long a time in that place before it faded. She could already hear things moving in the dark in response to her defiant cry. No, she did not care what became of her now. She had fought long and she had fought bravely for her freedom. She believed in something that was hers and hers alone, something that grew within her and was not imposed upon her like her mother and sisters. Though she may be about to die, she would not die a slave to that accursed Lloth! Even if her soul drifted into oblivion as punishment for refusing the goddess, Narsia would fade with a feeling of pride throbbing in her heart.
She felt it again, stronger this time. A chill ran up her spine, but not from the cold. A voice whispered in her ear, carried on the wind. It was bidding her to stand, to follow its call. Narsia did stand only to fall into a puddle of blood beneath what remained of a deep gnome she’d somehow managed to slay in her weakened state. Her legs gave out under her own weight when she tried to stand and Narsia began to cry as the skittering sound of some thing drew closer and closer. This was the end for her; she was going to die in a most horrible way without so much as a fight. She cried and clenched her fists around Danatoth’s swords. She beat the steel ball pommels into the stone and lashed her head about in angry defiance of her fate. She did not want to die here, she did not want to die alone and so full of bitterness and hate. This could not be her end, it simply could not be!
Again she heard the voice carried on the breeze and she had to strain to hear it over her own choking sobs. Still she could not understand, but the voice pulled at her and urged her to follow it. Everything in Narsia’s mind told her it was a trap and that whatever mage was casting this spell to compel her would only bring about the inevitable, but she had nothing left to hope for and that breeze carried a voice filled with hope, magical or otherwise. Narsia did not care if she lived or died now, she knew there was no hope left. So, with nothing to lose, Narsia Ny’Dhun slid Sar ha-Panim and Soqed Hezi back into their sheaths and began to crawl hand over hand in the direction the wisp of wind and that voice had come.
For miles she crawled, drawing ever closer to the voice while the sound of predators grew louder quicker than she could crawl. She knew they would be upon her soon, but she crawled on toward the voice.
Soon enough her good eye felt the twinge of some bright light in the distance and the sound of her pursuers stopped entirely. A new strength filled her and Narsia did not even wonder what had happened to her would-be murderer as she crawled faster and with a greater urgency than before. The voice was growing louder and the breeze carried into her nose the scent of life that she had never known before. Narsia stopped at last just outside the mouth of a cave and stared in utter shock with her good eye at what was before her. Even though the searing silvery light above her head pained her, she did not look away from it.
The forsaken daughter gripped an outcropping and heaved herself to her feet, then she slowly stumbled out into the light of the full moon. She did not make it more than a yard before her legs gave out again and she fell into a bloody heap on the soft grass under a large plant that looked something like the giant mushrooms she knew, but also different. Narsia’s sight blurred more and the renegade drow felt a great fatigue wash over her. She wondered if perhaps now death was finally upon her and she wondered with a smile.
Laughter erupted from the female’s lips, not bitter laughter but a relieved and giddy sound that made her aching heart lighter. The bitter tears she’d shed moment ago were replaced by tears of joyful release as she laughed and beat the tender ground with the one arm that still obeyed her commands. This was it, the place she was searching for! The freedom she had lost everything for was finally hers! At last she was released from the curse of the Underdark.
Narsia’s eyes widened and she silenced her laughter, straining her ears to hear. There was music playing in the distance and it carried a feeling that she had only just discovered: joy.
“What a perfect way to die.” Narsia said to herself, barely managing to mumble out the words. She took in the night air many times, breathing in deeply the scent of abundant life that was so foreign to her. She loved this feeling and despite being in a place she knew nothing of the dying drow felt a sense of calm wash over her like none she had ever know. Here she was safe. Here she was calm. Here she could finally die in peace.
And so she closed her eyes and let the last of her strength leave her, with the wind blowing over her, the smell of life in her nostrils and that joyful music playing in her ears so far away. She opened her good eye once more and gazed painfully at that brightly glowing sphere in the sky. She smiled at it and for a moment she swore a face smiled back, but it no longer mattered as the darkness enveloped her.
