After half a candlemark, they arrived at a closed iron door barely wide enough for a human to pass.  Belladonna took a dagger from her belt and rapped a staccato series of strikes on it and waited until a slot shot open and a sudden brilliant light blazed into the corridor.  Durrak cursed and flicked the butt of his latest cigar, a dark green cylinder with light orange sparks leaping from the smoke, through the slot to the sound of curses.

“You no do be treating us with respect.”  He said, his voice an angry rumble.  “I do be expecting such tactics from children, I do be expecting an apology.”

“It is done to expose some kinds of the Spawn who take on mortal guise.”  Belladonna said apologetically.  “If we told visitors about it, any infiltrators would be prepared and it wouldn’t work.

Durrak snorted, but his glare lessened.  “There do be other ways, but I do be understanding.”  He grumbled.

The door opened and a large man with a beard nearly as full as the Dwarf’s stood with a large double bitted ax over his shoulder.  “You nearly started me beard ablaze Master Dwarf!”  He boomed, “For one who don’t appreciate childish pranks you gotta funny way of showing it.”

He laughed, the sound filling the chamber.  “Enter and be welcome in Undercity.”

The chamber beyond the door was round, white and only had the iron portal they entered through and another much like it on the other side.  Belladonna knocked on that door and they were admitted once the guard on the other side saw the first door had been closed.

The view beyond was stunning.  Hundreds of buildings made of what appeared to be ruins or rubble from ancient and modern structures were stretched out below them in a tangled profusion.  Thousands of people were about, all armed and armored except for the very young, but even they had belt knives.  Arcane lights floated about everywhere, giving an approximation of afternoon sunlight.

There were tiers of pathways and catwalks that wound around the buildings and arched between them, connecting one to another stories above the stone of the streets below.  The crown jewel was what seemed to be part of a castle jutting from the wall.  It was sheathed in a checkerboard of white and black marble and had a formidable looking gate of spiked iron.

“Guests to see the Lady Ellen Eth.”  Belladonna said, approaching and ensuring her face was visible.

“They don’t look like they’re fit to meet the Lady.”  One of the guards growled, eyes on the pair still coated with blood and worse.  “Where’d you dredge up this gutter trash?”

Durrak bristled and Lorin did his best not to look down his nose at the guard; something aided by the guard being nearly six inches taller than the elf.  Before either of them could speak, Belladonna blurred forward with speed aided by subtle arcane flashes from her boots.  One hand ended up gripping the guard by the thick beard with the other inches from his face, glittering with scintillating azure energy.

“Do I need to repeat myself Gradach?”  She asked, her voice conversational.  “Perhaps you cannot hear me through all this hair.”

“No Mistress Belladonna.”  He said, face white.

“Good.  Ask your men to open the gate and to send servants to prepare baths.”  She smiled sweetly, “If you please.”

“I no do be needing a bath.”  Durrak said, pulling a cigar that looked remarkably normal from his pouch.  Noting with mild annoyance that it wasn’t lit, he touched it to the still glimmering energy surrounding Belladonna’s right hand.  The cigar immediately lit and he puffed contentedly on it, watching as the guards all stared at him in shock.  Even the ones that had come to meet them on the surface looked horrified.

“If Ellen Eth do be wanting to meet me she do be able to do it while I do be looking as I had to in order to be getting here alive.”  He blew a large smoke ring.  “Surely she no do be squeamish about a little blood?”

“The Lady will not wish her carpets and chairs to be ruined by your condition.”  Belladonna said, waving her right hand in a gesture of dismissal and banishing the writhing energies from it.  “That spell very well could have killed you Dwarf.  It should have burned that cigar to dust in an instant.”

“Tell Lady Ellen Eth that we will happily meet her in the first antechamber.”  Lorin said, “If I recall that one has carpets over stone floors.  My friend and I are needed back above if our folk are to survive long enough for us to bring her offer to them.  Our time is too limited to spend bathing unless she wishes us to leave all our other assets at risk.”

Belladonna gave them a considering look before nodding slowly.  “Thran, take them to the first chamber.  Servants will be sent to clear out the floor coverings.”

It was a minor victory, but it still put them in control of the where and when of the meeting.  Durrak strode forward confidently, following Thran and looking at the various splendors with a critical eye.  Everything here was fine to be sure, but it all looked chosen merely for its gold value, not for any sense of symmetry.  It was as though the person who had assembled the collection only cared about the monetary value of the artwork, not their intrinsic value.

Durrak was troubled in a way he had not thought possible anymore; his artistic soul cried out for the lack of appreciation of the individual paintings, tapestries, vases and other assorted works of art.  To be admired only for what they could give in return rather than for what they were was apparently part Ellen Eth’s makeup even more than rumor would suggest.

When Thran led them to the carved mahogany doors and barred them from entry with an imperious gesture, Durrak began to chuckle under his breath.  The chuckle became a full-throated laugh as the warrior glared at him darkly.

“If you do be thinking you do be able to stop me from entering the room at will friend, you do be sorely mistaken.”  Durrak said, still laughing.  “If you do be wishing to ask me to be staying outside it do be behooving you to ask politely.”

Thran opened his mouth to say something, closed it and swallowed after looking at the macabre grin that split the dwarf’s gore splattered face.  “Please wait here sirs.”  He said politely enough, although it was clear that rage seethed beneath the surface.

Durrak grounded Femurslicer’s steel shod butt on the marble of the hallway with a resounding crash that made tiny hairline fractures radiate out from it in a pattern of ragged lines.  “Very well.  We do be waiting on the Lady’s pleasure.”

Durrak wore Bonecrusher’s Brace and held Femurslicer angled across his shoulder as he approached the meeting place.  His only concessions to visiting an important personage were that his armor and weapon were polished and he had added a grey cloak with the hammer and tongs of the Drakanda style picked out on it in dark blue.

Lorin, on the other hand, had foregone his usually flamboyant style and only wore nondescript brown and green that would seem more at home in the forest than city streets.  He still carried his beautifully carved and polished bow, but he’d covered the jewels on the hilts of his long knives with leather wrapping.

“I don’t like this.”  Lorin said in a low voice.

Durrak snorted a laugh, “You no do like any of this.  How do this be different?”  He strode into the alley like he owned it, but he kept an eye out for Taken.  When the flood of monsters boiled out of the second story of the buildings surrounding them in a tide of humanoid beings that clung to the bricks with multi-jointed claws the pair were ready for them.

Not bothering at first to even use Femurslicer, Durrak ran forward with a battle cry that rattled the remaining window glass as he charged and smashed bodily into the creatures with the spiked pauldrons of his armor.  Bodies crushed to black ichor beneath his onslaught and a steady stream of arrow shafts from Lorin pinned a dozen of the hapless creatures to the wall before they’d moved more than a dozen feet.

Within minutes, all but three of the creatures were dead; either crushed to disgusting paste or filled with arrows from Lorin’s bottomless quiver.  A solid section of stone at the far end of the alley slid aside and a half dozen armed warriors sprang forward ready for battle.  They stopped in confusion at seeing Durrak glaring at them, his spiked armor dripping with black blood.  Lorin stared down an arrow shaft at their leader, the tip beginning to glow with sullen red light.

“You do be a bit late to the party.”  Durrak rumbled, swinging his Gisarme in a casual arc that cut two of the remaining creatures in half.  “I do be sorry we no did save you any playmates.”

The woman in the lead gave him a cautious look, but flicked a finger at the last monster, sending five bright purple bolts streaking into its head.  The bolts left neat round holes clearly through the skull and it dropped like a puppet with cut strings.

“I apologize gentlemen.  We thought this entrance to be secure.”  She said, “I am Belladonna, these are my companions; members of the Blood Guild.  We protect the Undercity as the Blackfist Guard used to do above.”

Durrak was fairly certain she wasn’t telling the truth, but she was telling a good lie if she was truly unaware of the monsters waiting in the surrounding buildings.  Perhaps she hadn’t been told of the ploy.  It would put them on uneven footing if they’d had to be rescued by Ellen Eth’s guard.  Or perhaps he was becoming overly suspicious in his old age.

“Those things ruined the god rotting polish on my boots.”  Lorin said mildly, slinging his longbow over his back.  “You must not use this entrance much for it to be so compromised.”

“Peace Lorin.”  Durrak said, shaking the blood from his gauntlet and withdrawing a cigar that glowed with a dim pink light and released thin wisps of jet black smoke that hung in the air for a few moments before simply vanishing instead of dissipating like smoke usually did.  “There do be no reason to doubt these folk.”

Belladonna relaxed slightly, a loosening of tightness round her eyes and mouth that Durrak hadn’t noticed until they had smoothed away.  Apparently his instincts had been on the mark; they’d best tread even more carefully than Lorin wanted them to.

The brick corridor was dark as they entered, but the humans carried no light.  The darkness was no impediment to their eyes as Durrak and Lorin followed them down, their inhuman senses allowing them to see the passage and their escort clearly albeit in grayscale.  There were places that had obviously once been side tunnels but they were bricked over now.

Durrak puffed on his cigar and sipped ale.  It was decent ale for a change, gotten in trade from a strange source.  A Matriarch who lived under the city named Ellen Eth had sent it along with a note and an address in the city.

‘Dear Battlemaster Caverstorm.  It would be my pleasure to make your acquaintance.  As a person of great influence in the Undercity of Starvale, I would like to invite you to come and visit.  We could use an individual of your talents to assist us in the defense of our assets.  I include a barrel of the finest Dwarven ale as a gesture of good faith.  Very truly yours, Ellen Eth.’

He let smoke trickle out of his nostrils as he considered the signature on the note.  It was full of flourishes and embellishments; quite different from the other writing.  This woman had taken the trouble to find a scribe to write her letter, even in these dire circumstances.  What kind of person would do that?

“I’d say someone who thinks very highly of herself.  That or someone who wants you to know she is rich.  Or possibly someone who is insane.”  Lorin said cheerfully from the doorway.  He closed the door to his private chamber softly.

Durrak snorted to hide his surprise; he hadn’t realized he was talking to himself.  “Do that be Dane?”  He gestured with his cigar, “You know I no do approve of you being seducing the girls.”

“Good thing for me your approval doesn’t mean all that much to me.”  Lorin said, smiling wider.  “Besides, she’s the one who slipped into my bed.  I couldn’t very well be rude and turn her away.  Would have crushed the poor girl’s spirit I’m sure.  Isn’t it a bit early in the morning for drink?”

“The honorable Ellen Eth did be sending me a gift.”  Durrak said through a cloud of cigar smoke.  “It would be most insulting not to be sampling it.”

The smile fled from Lorin’s face.  “Ellen Eth sent you a note?  What’s that scheming …” His voice trailed off and he looked carefully about the room, swallowed hard and dipped a mug of ale.  Taking a long drink, he licked his lips.  “What did she want?”

“She do wish to be meeting with me.”  Durrak said calmly, handing over the letter.

Lorin took it and scanned it quickly.  Sweat broke out on his forehead, and he took another swallow of ale before wiping it away.  “She’s trying to recruit you.”

“It do be seeming so.”  Durrak said, taking a lit cigar from his pouch and handing it to his friend.  “I no do be interested, but it do be rude not to be responding.”

“You can’t go meet her.”  Lorin said, accepting the cigar and taking drag; flinching at the green and gold sparks that burst from it like a Firstday firework.  “She’s dangerous.  If you don’t agree to her terms or to work with her she’ll kill you.”

“You do be knowing her?”  The Dwarf asked, refilling his mug and dropping the stub of his cigar back into the pouch.  “Do be telling me of her.  She do know her ale well.”

“She used to run the Welcomers.”  At Durrak’s blank look he blew a cloud of smoke out in exasperation, “The guild of the rogue in Starvale; and likely beyond also.  They orchestrated the removal of the Iron Fist’s leadership, undermining their organization until it was nothing but a shell.

“I’ve never met a more thorough and ruthless killer.  A mind like a bag full of cats with anger issues.”  The Elf shuddered.  “She approached someone I used to work with.  Asked him if he was interested in helping her with a problem.  He apparently declined because the next time I saw him he’d been flayed alive.”

“Hmmm.  She do sound to be a formidable individual.”  Durrak mused, taking another cigar from his pouch and filling the air with bright purple smoke.  “Could she be what the city do be needing?”

Lorin choked on his ale, “What?  NO!  Durrak, she’s insane and selfish.  She’d love to see the city burn if it increased her holdings. She’ll murder the weak so that she can feed her cadre of trained killers.”

“In that case, I do be needing to deal with her.”  Durrak said, “There no do be a point in helping people to escape if she do be as bad as the Taken.”

“You can’t.”  Lorin said, “She doesn’t fight fair; she’d swarm you with a hundred men just so a hundred archers could fill you full of poison arrows.”

“But if I do be ignoring her she do be taking offense.  Or she do be assuming that I do be refusing since I no do be showing up.”  Durrak folded his thick arms over his chest.  “I do be going.”

Cursing, Lorin downed the rest of his ale and produced a whetstone.  With quick, practiced motions he began sharpening first a knife and when he’d put a razor edge on it, he began working on arrowheads.

“You no do have to be coming.”  Durrak said, exhaling smoke to hide his smile.

“The hells I don’t.”  Lorin said, “If she gets you and I knew you were going Dane would never let me hear the end of it.”

“Ah.  We no can be having that can we?”  Durrak asked, taking a drink.

“Was that a joke?”  Lorin asked, “That was a joke!  Gods all bless, it’s a momentous day, the Dwarf made a joke!”

“I do be making jokes often.”  Durrak said, “The stupid Elf no do be understanding them.”

Lorin chuckled and went back to sharpening his arrowheads.