It was Midwinter when we arrived in Waterdeep, the City of Splendours. Located on the western coast of Faerûn, Waterdeep was a city more amazing than I could have described it, far surpassing its namesake. To the north was Neverwinter, and further north than that was Luskan.
I had never been somewhere so huge and intimidating that it stole my breath the first time we arrived. People of every race bartered at the stalls that lined the streets, exchanging greetings and gold; buildings rose higher than my eyes could see, with sunlight shining through the spaces. The sights and sounds were overwhelming.
My Teu-tel-quessir heritage, or Moon Elven in the common tongue, drew me to the sounds, curiosity baiting me like a moth to a flame.
“Serewyn.” I felt a hand on my shoulder with warmth that I was familiar with. “We mustn’t be distracted from why we’re here.”
“Of course, Lurethel,” I replied to my husband. “But could I at least have time to wander?”
He smiled the smile that had attracted me. “Later. It’s best we get settled and form a plan. We shouldn’t stay in this city too long—I don’t want to be here for naught.” I nodded and followed Lurethel as we headed for The Yawning Portal.
I’d have liked to come to the City of Splendours of my own volition, but my husband and I were here for my goddess, Sehanine Moonbow. The goddess had many possessions she held under her gaze on the plane of Faerûn and my temple was tasked with guarding the Silver Chalice of Moonbow. We had kept the relic under secure watch within the temple’s most solid room, guarding it with a careful eye. We prayed to it in times of suffering and blessed newborn children with water poured from it.
However, one night, a group of Drow assassins and thieves broke into our temple and stole the artefact. It was my mission, as a Paladin of Moonbow, to retrieve it.
~
On that fateful night, I felt something unnatural stir the air. As I stood in the hallowed halls of the temple, I felt someone pass me—a small-statured person that barely shifted the air despite how quickly they were moving. I reached and swooped my armoured hand at them, grasping at disappearing linens. They raced past me and I drew my sword and followed them. I knew what they wanted immediately—our temple had little else of worth.
As I chased them, a group of Drow assassins burst from the darkness in a whoosh of smoke. I needed to stop the thief, but the assassins were gaining on me. I raced down the halls to the chamber to find the guards dying at the hands of the Drow, poisoned blades dragged slowly across the necks of the men. I had enough time to turn and block the attack at my back before I sounded the alarm and the thief vanished into nothingness.
I fought off the assassins, coating my blade in their blood. A ball of fire erupted down the stone halls and I protected myself as the assassins burned ahead of me. When I drew my blade back the blood sizzled.
It was then that I returned home and fell to my knees in tears with Lurethel at my side, encircling me in his arms. “We will find the chalice, Serewyn.” He soothed me with his voice, but I still felt hopeless. All that I had trained for, protecting the goddess and her touch on the world…all of it was lost with my carelessness. “Wipe your tears, my love. We will go to Waterdeep and recover it.”
~
When we arrived at the inn, Lurethel collected my rucksack—a magic bag that lowered the weight of my belongings to nothing—and led me upstairs to the room we paid for. My bag was sitting in the corner when I entered; Lurethel was at the desk against the wall opposite the door. Our room wasn’t very large, with a basket for dirty clothes at the side of the desk, and a bed at the far end of the room. There was barely enough room to stand aside it.
He wasted no time sifting through his belongings and pulling out a crumpled map that looked to be sketched by hand. “This map I drew when I was younger,” he told me as I removed the plate armour from my wary body. “I travelled for many hours away from my home to discover more about the Underdark. I managed to cover our entire city, but when I reached…when I found a doorway up, I came across a wizard who wouldn’t let me pass.
“He warned me that his maze was too dangerous for someone as young as I to navigate, and I would be immediately set upon by monsters.” Lurethel drew out a quill and started tracing a path through the drawn passages. It weaved mercilessly through the Underdark, avoiding all the places he marked as Drow settlements. The extraction of the chalice would have to be seamless.
“I’ve heard rumours already of the ancient wizard having vanished. What that means for the Drow settlements, I can hardly ponder. But there will be uprisings, make no mistake, and with the creatures lacking a master, we’d best be careful upon adventuring down."
I slipped my arms around Lurethel’s neck and kissed his obsidian-coloured skin. His features were handsome like any Drow. He preferred his hair short, the silvery-white strands curving upwards at the front and shortening at the back. He smiled and leaned back into my chest.
Lurethel worshipped Eilistraee, the Lady of the Dance. He wasn’t a bard or a ranger; instead, he chose not to follow his people into Lolth’s grasp. But in doing so, he had given up the powers granted to him as a child—the ability to blind his opponents and make them an easier target to the monsters of the darkness. It was a price he gladly paid to learn more of the surface world.
His lips found mine and we kissed longingly before I rest for the night.
~
Elves never truly sleep. Due to our need to stay alert for danger, we would only enter a meditative state, through which we could still feel the movements of others as they enter our space. I always reflected on my memories when I rest. This ritual had brought me comfort through the hardest of times—through being driven out by humans, and hunted by monsters as we rested in caves. I hadn’t had the hardship of fleeing Evereska, but I had seen my fair share of danger.
I still thought of the first time I’d met Lurethel, in the earliest hours of the morning. I was still fresh from youth, and had hardly ventured far into the world. I knew nothing of the other races of elves, dwarves and humans, short of what we were taught in the temple. I knew that the Drow were an evil race of elves, who had been driven underground for their ways, and now lived in the darkness, constantly betraying each other.
Our most senior paladin returned from the city, the body of a man slung over the back of the saddle. His dirty clothes were stained with blood, which had dried in his long, silver hair. Haedan handed the reins to an initiate and hoisted the man’s body over his shoulder, rushing him inside to our small infirmary. We had few clerics, and I panicked for a moment, wondering whether the man would even survive.
I followed after Haedan and hid at the doorway as he laid the man on a cloth bed and helped remove the fabric of his clothes. It was then that I noticed the colour of his skin; deep obsidian—alluring and speaking of a history marred in violence. His body was thin and lean, a gash running along his body from his chest to his hip.
“He had long been set upon by bandits when I found him, High Priestess,” explained Haedan.
“I’ll see to it that he’s taken care of, Haedan. Lady Moonbow will not see any of her kind fall to death. Especially seeing that this one was brave enough to venture to the surface.”
Haedan nodded to the priestess and headed for the doorway. His eyes locked with mine and I jumped, moving away from the doorway.
“Serewyn!” called the old man. He caught me by my shoulder. “You’re curious about that man, huh? Well, make yourself useful and get some bandages.”
