The History of the Tarantula Faction

The history of the faction that came to be known as Tarantulas goes back further than simply the founding of that faction, as it's 'founding' was merely diplomatic recognition of what was already a reality. Inexorably linked to this history is the history of my former House, House Gereshen. I therefore will attempt to tell the tale as best a warrior can, but would point out that it will be incomplete and reflect to a large extent upon that which I and Gereshen were directly involved in, as that is what I remember. In places, particularly areas where I was not present, I will use the testimony of those I trust to tell the story as truthfully as any Drow can; they will no doubt introduce themselves in their own time. This then is how it all happened, by those that were there.

1091	1092	1093

Norhault, 1092: The Vipers/The Drow

It was with some trepidation and a vast amount of excitement that House Gereshen travelled to the surface in 1092. Following the events of 1091, Varquin and myself were both eager to avenge ourselves upon The Celts, and the whole of the House seemed swept along in our bloodlust. Matron Saravay Gereshen stood amongst her children and Troops, and marched into the area where the first Gathering of the nations was to take place. The Humans made no move to stop us as we picked a site where the Drow would camp, and soon the other Houses and groups of The Drow Network began to arrive and pitch camp around and about us.

The treaty of the Gathering of nations had dictated, most unjustly, that any group attending this 'fair' must come with one of the six recognised Factions, these being The Lions of Albion, The Bears of Caladonia, The Gryphons of Estragles, The Wolves of Norsca and Orknja, The Dragons of Erin and Cymrja, and The Vipers who were the rebels of Teutonia. We had made some links with The Vipers, and indeed Lord Phol Diamecht himself was married to a Drow Priestess. However, we had no intention of being ordered about by a Human, and so we camped far away from The Vipers from the outset. Matron Saravay and the two other Matrons in attendance, Matrons Salix and Shinnane, held sway in The Drow camp, and no-one was going to say otherwise. Thus was the absolute rule of The Matrons born amongst the Drow at such surface meetings. Still, our links with the Vipers justified our presence there, so appearances were as they should be. Few among us, though, were in any doubt as to our independence.

We camped a short way from where the Volunteers had held their fort the previous year, although nothing remained of it now. The trees provided us with cover and shade, and enough shadow to slip unseen into and between. House Gereshen had brought up modest accommodation, but Matron Salix and her Black Kite Clan brought a huge Marquee which their slaves wasted no time in erecting. This became the focal point of much of The Drow encampment, and Matron Salix most generously offered her tent as a command post for Matron Saravay and Matron Shinnane of House Moor'Den'Arr to hold meetings in. The Three Matrons swiftly developed an excellent working relationship, and held court together as more and more ambassadors came to investigate why we were here and who's side we might take in any fight. Before long it became clear that a permanent guard presence, and a herald of sorts would be needed on the door to the Matron's tent, and so Page Prince Shar started his long and distinguished diplomatic career. He would take details of who visitors were, and what they wanted, and would inform the Matrons of their presence when the Matrons were available. Scores of people passed through the camp and through Shar's care, and often the Matrons would have to take breaks form the never ending queues of ambassadors. A great deal of the time, the visitors outnumbered The Drow in the camp. Still, no-one attacked or even spoke harshly to The Drow in our camp, for all knew that to do so was to die in great pain over some considerable time. In those days humans and others knew what Drow were, and acted with respect, unlike the insolent curs of today; in those days those warriors were the top of their professions, not the cowardly pack-rats that we Drow now have to face. Human Warriors of today take note, your ancestors would be ashamed of you.

Much of that first day and night was spent guarding the Matrons and their ceaseless meetings, but even so we found time to visit the market area. Matron Saravay insisted that the whole House attend, and indeed several members of other Houses also followed as The Drow made their imperious progress through the market, people clearing from in front of us as we processed from one stall to the next. I remember that Matron Saravay, resplendent as ever in black and silver, decided that she liked the look of a bottle covered in leather in our House Colours of black and purple, and so haggled most skilfully over the price until she bought it at a fraction of what had been origionally asked. She also decided that her Weaponsmaster was lacking a propelled weapon, (I found it unwise to use a bow in Matron Saravay's presence, as she felt them to be too 'Wood-Elven'), and insisted upon me buying a large cross-bow. Several others of our retinue purchased new weapons, finding some of the 'Drow' work of the surface dwellers to be to their liking. I also remember that several members of The Black Kite Clan bought black helmets from one trader, as did I, although they proved to be somewhat unsound after anything other than a glancing blow. Thus was the tradition of The Drow going Shopping started, at least in it's original form. Rather un-surprisingly, no one tried to stop or attack us on the way there or on the way back. All were far too concerned with possibly wooing us over to fighting along side them, or, in the case of the Celts, far too concerned with drinking and it's after effects.

That evening, Sarigar arrived. Sarigar had been an instructor at the academy when I attended as a pupil many years before, and we had always been allied since those days. Some years later, Sarigar's sometime too quick tongue earnt him the wrath of a Priestess, and only direct intervention by Matron Saravay saved him from becoming a Drider. Since it would be too dangerous to have such an out-spoken male associated with House Gereshen within the city, I convinced Matron Saravay that Sarigar would be perfect as the leader of our surface troops, and so he led a unit upon the surface conducting raids and assassinations on behalf of the House, a job at which he excelled. He had agreed to meet us at this fair, and arrived weary but cheerful. His troops, he explained, were positioned some distance away so that they could observe and provide an escape route should we need to depart rapidly. No sooner had he re-introduced himself to Matron Saravay and the members of the House than Mistress Cortella of the Black Kites was unfortunate enough to interrupt him, and only some very rapid diplomacy on the part of Shar prevented our first serious diplomatic incident between the Houses. There would be enough of those later, but for now Sarigar was told to work in close unison with our allies and in particular The Black Kite Clan, advice that he took a little too literally as it turned out.

Several other Drow of note should be mentioned at this point; Steel and Jarlaxxle arrived as two Houseless males who talked to several Houses before finally deciding to join House Moor'den'Aar, and Alsalion,the Ritualist of The Black Kite Clan, a male of unusual power. All three would become significant in their own ways later on, and all three came into the history at this point. Also around at this time, but not with The Drow, was the archer Mormigal. He came to our attention as a partner to Void, another archer and Shadow Elf who we believed to be an assassin. Rumour had it that the Surface Elves had placed a contract with him for as many high ranking Drow as possible, so we were wary of the two of them.

Rumours began to reach us that The Celts intended to create a sword which would slay any Drow it even touched, but to do so they needed the blood of several Drow to use in the ritual. There had been skirmishes going on all day in the woods not far from the tavern, and quite a few of the Drow were still engaged against the Celts down there. Several messages were sent down instructing all Drow to retire to the camp for the time being, but the fighting continued. Eventually, just as a fighting column had been formed to go and retrieve our troops, Sarigar staggered back to inform us that The Celts had indeed taken three prisoners to bleed for their Drow-Slayer Sword. However, as he told the tale of what had happened we realised that all was not quite so bad as we had thought. Sarigar told us that the Celts had surrounded him and five or so of our allies including several Drow, and had informed them that they would need three of the captives, but they would not accept any cowards. Steel had stepped forward and snarled that he was no coward, slaughtering a Celt as he did so, only to be battered to the ground himself. At this, Sarigar knocked out two other allies in front of him, and declared himself an abject coward and traitor. Amazed, the Celts let him go and started taking blood from the three unconscious troops. Sarigar immediately ran for the camp, but not before making sure that they were taking blood from one of the two people he had knocked out, as despite both looking like Drow, one was in fact a Vampire, and therefore the ritual would go awry as a result of the wrong type of blood. This, he explained calmly, was the best way to remove the threat of the sword, to taint it in it's construction rather than try to avoid any blood being collected, which would be all but impossible. We set out and soon recovered our allies, who were slightly the worse for their ordeal, and more than a little angry with Sarigar until his plan was explained to them. Still, they were alive, and the Celts would pay for their actions.

It was at this time, as things settled down once again within the camp, that we met the Beastmen. What appeared to be a rather dirty lumbering fur-covered human approached us and identified himself as Joran of The Beastmen. As we had no idea how significant this might be, we offered him a drink and a place by our fire. This seemed to make him happy, and he called some of his 'pack' over to join in. Before long, Joran had met Matron Saravay and became adopted into House Gereshen, accompanying Matron Saravay where-ever she went. The pack of Beastmen aided us when we skirmished, including rescuing Mistress Faeryl Gereshen, the Third Daughter of the House, and proved more and more to be most excellent fighters and allies. We also forged close fighting links with Uglub and his mob of Ogres, The Evil Sunz, who were truly huge and savage in combat; with The Drow, The Beastmen and The Ogres together much of the time, many Celts fell in the skirmishes outside the tavern.

That first night, Matron Saravay decided that the time was right for The Drow to declare their independence, and House Gereshen was fully armed and assembled on her instructions. Raising the House Banner, we marched out of the camp and past or through many bewildered groups of Humans, past the ritual circle which flashed and glowed with power, and into the darkness before finally reaching The Vipers Camp.
Lord Viper's seneschal met us at the front of the great tent, and bid us enter. Phol Diamecht, Lord Viper, was a red bearded giant of a human, his considerable body swathed in black and red as was the Vipers want to wear. He sat at the far end of his tent, and invited us to sit or stand opposite him. Matron Saravay took a seat, and the rest of us sat upon the rugs around her, Joran at her feet. We were offered wine and ale, which Lord Viper tasted himself to prove it was safe, but we tasted anyway before Matron Saravay did just to be sure. Joran produced a tankard from his belt, and quaffed whatever was offered to him, regularly. Then we got down to the business at hand.

Matron Saravay told Lord Viper, in very measured tones, that The Drow would not follow a human leader, and most certainly not a male. It was therefore the opinion of The Ruling Council of Matrons that The Drow should be independent, and this was the reason for the meeting. Lord Viper looked a little surprised, but I do not think he really was, after all he must have known we were not camped with his troops. He pointed out that his wife was a Drow, a Priestess of The Spider Queen no less. Matron Saravay replied that whilst this may be true, she was not the leader, and if it were true then clearly Llolth had plans for her that would be revealed in the fullness of time, but they did not currently involve leading The Drow; how true those words were to prove to be years latter. Finally, Lord Viper asked how many Drow were declaring independence. Cunning as ever, Matron Saravay replied that one hundred and twenty five were in the camp, and she would not hesitate to use them to 'gain' independence if necessary. Looking somewhat resigned, Lord Viper declared that he only had one hundred or so troops, so he would agree to Drow Independence, so long as we fought along side his forces in battle. Matron Saravay agreed, so long as the battle did not go directly against our aims, which Lord Viper assured her it would not, and the deal was made. We stayed for some time enjoying Lord Viper's hospitality before returning to our camp, where our runners had already spread the good news. It seemed that almost all seventy five of The Drow were there, and we celebrated Matron Saravay's excellent bluff and our full independence long into the early morning. We were Vipers no longer, but now truly we were The Drow. As a result, we did little that next day.

The second night saw the Celts begin to realise that the threat from The Drow was very real. They did their ritual to create The Drow Slayer Sword, and of course had no way of knowing how successful it had been, or otherwise. Our spies began to report in that The Celts were planning a raid in force against us, at midnight. With their large numbers, they would sweep over us no matter how well we fought, so Sarigar and I went out and scouted around behind the tavern in the deep woods there. When we returned, we informed the Matrons that we had discovered a well concealed route whereby The Drow could 'disappear' for a while, and re-appear at the opposite end of the area. As the time approached, The Drow left the camp in small groups and drifted down to the large amphitheatre in the woods, where we gathered and waited. Eventually, the scouts we had left concealed in the camp informed us that some Celts had indeed arrived, but then left when they discovered the camp empty. Matron Saravay decided that the assembled Drow being out of camp after midnight was too good an opportunity to miss, and decided to quietly rampage through the area on our way back to camp. Sarigar and I remained behind as rear-guard, and indeed soon enough some curious humans came our way to investigate the slight noises of seventy five departing Drow in the woods. We killed some, and then Sarigar befriended one called Mouse, who sent the rest away and joined us for the rest of that night. We ghosted between camps and woodland, following the trail left by Matron Saravay and The Drow, and arrived back at the camp with several more kills to our tally. By this time The Celtic Queen had decided that it was high time she visited The Matrons herself, so we were surprised to find several large but relatively friendly, or stupid, Celts in our camp. They turned out to be The Queen's Retinue. The Queen talked deals concerning The Drow Slayer Sword with The Matrons, and agreed to 'disappear' the weapon when she had the chance, so long as we agreed not to assassinate her or too many of her people. The Matrons agreed, carefully failing to point out that there was no such thing as too many dead Celts in their opinion. Still, we were ordered to be more subtle in our killings from now on; we took this to mean leaving no witnesses alive, and everyone was happy.

The next day, things continued much as before, with constant diplomacy and envoys tooing and frowing through the camp. The skirmishes in the lower woods became more and more ferocious, and increasing numbers became involved. Even The Celts were beginning to realise that most of the non-celtic factions had sided against them, rather than against The Drow as they had hoped. This seemed only to spur them on to even greater feats of stupidity, which of course further alienated them, particularly when such acts were embellished a little by us in the subsequent re-tellings. It was well after mid-day that word reached us regarding The Drow Slayer Sword. It seems that one of the clan champions was given the task of trying it out on a Drow. The Champion, of the McFinn Clan I think, found a Drow in the skirmish area and duly hit him with the offending weapon, at which point the Drow received a dent in his armour and the Celt fell dead at his feet, drained of his life by the weapon. Deciding that Celts committing suicide at his feet was probably fun best enjoyed in small doses, the Drow left the area and returned to camp to inform us of this strange Celtic pastime, at which point our spy network pieced the rest together. They also informed us that The Queen had confiscated Drow Slayer from the faction, as being a danger to idiots. It is just as well that the Celts, and in particular The Bears, have Female leaders, as they would surely be lost without them.

Little more occurred that day, other than a mage called Floris Ileas paying a visit to the Matrons to announce that he was The Grand Master Mage and controlled, well…….magic, as far as we could understand him. The Matrons seemed quite un-impressed, pointing out that they had a lot of wizards here and at home, all of whom were better dressed than he was. They also pointed out that his retinue was woefully under-armed and could be wiped out in seconds before any of them got a spell off. He seemed a little taken aback at this, but then he had probably not met Drow Matrons before, otherwise he would have known not to boast at them. I don't think anything was actually decided at this meeting, other than both sides clearly defining their lines. Eventually Floris left, explaining that he had to see someone about a missing book. This would make sense a year later.

The visit did have one knock on effect straight away though; Matron Saravay decided that it was time to show the Humans why Drow magic was feared, and what could be achieved with it. To this end she organised a ritual group, consisting of all three Matrons, Mistress Cortella, Mistress Rauva Gereshen, Mistress Faeryl Gereshen, Manstyn Gereshen who was first-boy and House Wizard, the Head Wizard of The Black Kite Clan, members of House Moor'den'aar and several others. Then a small raiding party led by Varquin set out and captured a goblin. With the preparations complete, The Drow assembled in camp and marched in a column down to the ritual circle. Once there, the ritualists entered the circle and stood patiently as guards secured every approach and the surrounding area against any interruption. Then they began, closing the circle to bar entry or exit, before starting a low chant to The Spider Queen. Then, after some time chanting, the ritualists began to speak words of power, and The Matrons and Priestesses beseeched Llolth to grant her blessing in their endeavour. This done, the purpose of their ritual became clear as they began to call the name of a Demon, which I shall not repeat here. Slowly at first, then faster and louder they called, until the sulphurous smell of the Abyss and the insinuating waves of evil were plain to all. Then, all at once, there was a huge explosion as Matron Saravay plunged her knife into the goblin sacrifice, and it imploded. Through this vortex stepped a great Demon, black, ape-like with black braided hair and black armour. The Demon snarled and gave a great roar, but Matron Saravay would not be thwarted and shouted it's name at it, ordering it to obey or suffer. The Demon, realising it had little choice, obeyed and the ritualists opened the circle, trooping out with the Mighty Demon in tow. We formed up around it, and began our march back to camp. Only a few humans were stupid enough to get too close, but of these one strayed too close to the Demon and became it's first meal. Still, the foolish and careless shall be punished. Word must have spread around the other faction camps very quickly, as no-one attacked us that night. However, clearly some of the other factions had become quite concerned about the number of Vampires in the area, as they used the ritual circle to draw in all the vampires and then destroyed them as they arrived. I stood with Varquin, Shar and Sarigar as at least ten vampires glided past, hissing and snarling but unable to resist the power of the summons, and watched them hacked down with enchanted swords and silver axes; all in all, one had to feel a little sympathy for the vampires as the odds were rather stacked against them, with around twenty weapons of power awaiting them at a location they could not avoid. Fortunately, our vampires seemed not to be effected, or maybe they were sufficiently far away.

When I returned to camp, it was to receive an invitation from several members of The Clan McFinn to join them for a drink; they claimed that they were so impressed with my fighting skills, and indeed the skills of all the Drow, that they would like to share an evening drinking with at least one of us and they had agreed upon me ! I was a little unsure about this, until they pointed out that as I would be a guest in their camp, the laws of Celtic hospitality would apply and no-one could harm me on pain of death unless my actions warranted such a reply. They also pointed out that if any other Celt attacked us, even on the way there or back, they would be forced to kill them on my behalf. This sounded too good a possibility to miss, so I agreed. Informing Matron Saravay, via Shar, where I could be found if needed, I travelled with the red beret-wearing McFinns to their huge tent, where they entertained me with alcohol, song, stories and jokes for several hours. As we drank, we noticed that the wind was becoming a great deal stronger, and I warned them that this could show anger on the part of Llolth, The Spider Queen of Air and Darkness. Then the clan discovered that one of their brave warriors was in fact a female masquerading as a male, the discovery being made when the very obvious, and rather ample evidence of her gender inadvertently fell out of her shirt during a good natured brawl. This led to several amorous Celts chasing her around the increasingly windy and hazardous camp, begging the opportunity to form a second opinion on the subject, based on touch. I shook my head at this display; it was a wonder they ever found time to fight, never mind any organisation to arrive at the same time in large numbers. As the night grew long, and still the wind rose, I made my excuses and was escorted back to The Drow camp by Fin Mc Finn himself. I heard later that he did not survive the battle, but he was a fearsome drinker; perhaps he should have stuck to what he did best.

I awoke to the sound of hammering, and exiting my pavilion I saw troops securing their tents by dropping the canvas and hammering the steaks in to loop the lines around, as well as depositing rocks on-top of the canvas. The wind was now very strong indeed, and word reached us that the seers had predicted it would grow much worse. Having secured our pavilions, House Gereshen and many of The Drow marched down to the woods near to the Tavern, Sarigar carrying a large keg of rich, dark brown Duergar beer and several tankards. There is no true wind in The Underdark, mearly thermals created by fissures deep underground, so this whole experience was quite new to us; the Humans told us that it was highly dangerous, so we decided that if one could not slice the threat with weapons, or harm it with spells, we would drink to the chaos it was causing, and revel in the power of The Queen of Air and Darkness. So we stayed in those woods, drinking and talking light-heartedly about the poor fashion sense some humans were displaying, such as a cloak of strange fur dyed a bright and highly offensive shade of pink. Many of them rushed into the tavern seeking to take shelter, unaware that a tree could crash through the structure very easily and they could not avoid it whilst packed inside. So engrossed were we with such matters that we paid little attention to the wind as it hit it's peak, howling and shrieking around us and through the trees, and then it died away, slowly at first but then more rapidly, until the air was almost still. The Seers informed us that the worst of the storm had changed direction and had avoided us; realising we were in a hostile area with no weapons between us, we swiftly returned to camp.

Within a short time the pavilions were restored, and the camp was open again with visitors from all factions desperate to talk with The Matron Mothers. Shar worked miracles to keep everyone content and avoid any tensions between rival faction ambassadors turning unpleasant, largely by pointing out that a very messy and undignified death awaited the first person to cause him such a problem. Well into the night the Matrons sat in council, with food and drink having to be taken in to them. The Celtic Queen and her retainers visited several times, and seemed most impressed with the efficiency of The Matrons court. She confirmed that she had The Drow Slayer sword, and would not allow it to be wielded at all. The Matrons agreed that in return they would give her sanctuary should the battle go against her side and she make it to our lines. She was not destined to, as it turned out.

Also at this time, a curious creature by the name of Trix turned up with some news. He had attached himself to House Gereshen the previous day, and now told us that a great prophesy had been revealed to him, that all the elves would unite and destroy the might of The Celts, who were arrogant upstarts compared to the elder races. I knew that he was a half Drow, his other half being Air Elven, but he worshipped Llolth and had proved a competent fighter so I agreed with him that if the other elven nations agreed to fight along side us, and if Llolth through her Matron Mothers and High Priestessess was not angry at the idea, then we would welcome them, and in particular The Ankh archers, who would prove a valuable asset. He went off into the night, and clearly worked hard, for by morning almost all the elves attending marched with us, only a few low elves refusing. They would die for their stupidity.

Some troops, many from Gereshen, chose to stay up all night and drink and talk, but I chose not to, rather attending a meeting of military commanders from The Lions, Wolves and Vipers to discuss tactics as the prospect of a battle grew. Of the events that night, I do know this much; for some reason Duke Carlennon of The Lions faction was accused of some crime by The Bears, and demanded to be judged according to the law of Trial by Combat. This seemed fine to me, until we were told that this would not be an individual fight, but a battle to decide his innocence or guilt. Quite rightly, The Matrons pointed out that we did not care whether he was innocent or guilty, and had in fact never met the man, so it was of no concern to us. However, Lord Viper reminded us that we had agreed to take the field along side his forces, and that we wanted an opportunity to have revenge on the Celts anyway, both very valid points. The Lions, Wolves and Vipers had all taken the Duke's side in the matter, whilst The Bears were supported by The Dragons and The Gryphons. In the end the decision was easy to make, as we had been killing Celts for several days now and no-one felt like stopping. We would go to war in the morning, our new yellow pennant that Sarigar had found the other side of a wall leading us into battle; the thought was not displeasing.

The morning of the last day of the gathering dawned, and with it came the sounds of armour being put on and units readying themselves for battle. The Drow did not have many preparations to make, as most of us did not wear much armour in those days, relying more on speed and skill. Our archers practised, getting their eye in for the coming carnage, and here and there warriors sparred to warm up muscles and hone reflexes. At last, the scouts returned to inform us that Lord Viper had taken the field and that we should now move to our start position.

The plan called for us to remain hidden in the woods for as long as possible, supported by the Vipers with their Ogres and shield wall. In this way, the Celts would be worried as to where we might appear from, and would have no easy targets to charge in open ground. Lord Corvus, Lord General of the Lions of Albion, seemed to have become our overall general, and explained the tactics to the assembled members of the Lions, Wolves, Vipers and Drow. The Lions and Wolves, with their shield walls, would hold the left and centre open ground, whilst The Vipers would link the open ground to the woods and us. Then, we would allow the Celts to charge all they wanted as they bounced off the shield wall again and again, until we moved forward and encircled them, with the Drow swarming around the entire right flank and looping behind to take the woods at the top of the hill to prevent any escape. I was not too worried about the second half of the plan; if we were able to start moving then the momentum would be difficult to stop. However, the first part, with us holding position, did cause me a problem as we had no shields and little armour; if an armoured unit of knights attacked us, I foresaw a repeat of the previous year occurring. With this in mind I suggested to Matron Saravay that perhaps the mages might form a circle of sanctuary from blades and arrows, in which the Matrons and Priestesses might remain until we pushed forward and secured our objectives. She agreed.

Corvus ended his speech, or 'pep-talk' as the humans call it, with a cheer for each faction, and included The Drow separately, which pleased the Matrons greatly. Then we moved into our positions, the battle line forming well back in the woods but linked onto the end of The Vipers line, and the sanctuary circle well behind us. It is only fair to point out that whilst the circle was supposed to be for The Matrons and priestesses, the entirety of House Mor'den'aar were to be found either in or very near to it, and certainly not in the battle line, a fact which did not amuse my troops.

My battle-brother, a half drow named Huish, had decided that he would attempt to win the battle by taking the Celtic battle standard himself, and returning with it to the Drow lines. This had been agreed as a sign of victory; if either side's banner was taken and presented to the Grand Master Mage by the other side, that side had won. Huish had planned with me that he would need a group to meet him at the edge of the woods and cut down his closest pursuers, and so I selected 20 of the best troops, archers and sword-wielders, and we took cover in the largest patch of bracken we could find at the edge of the woods. Only a few moments after we had settled down, a unit of 30 or more Celts, scouting the edge of the woods, walked straight past us. I could have reached out and touched them as they walked past, but we let them go as we did not wish to give away our position. After a little while, I moved to the very edge of the bracken and peeked out over the field. In the distance I could see the Celtic Banner, behind a large group of warriors, and could see Huish walking nonchalantly from his concealed position in the woods to one side of them, meandering closer to the banner. Suddenly, when he was mere yards from it, two Celts pointed at him and started a commotion. His cover blown, Huish drew his swords and hacked down several Celts before realising that the banner was beyond his grasp and that flight was the only option. Then the chase was on, with forty or so enraged Celts sprinting after Huish as he moved effortlessly over the uneven ground toward us. Seeing him scanning the tree line as he ran, I drew a scimitar and waved it to him, and he changed course toward us. In another few moments he had past us, but had slowed down ready to turn back to help us. There was little need however, as most of the pursuers did not continue into the woods, and those that did we cut down in moments, rising out of the ferns and slaying them before they were even aware of our presence, so dark was it under the trees. Huish looked at me and grinned, shaking his head; he had failed, so now we would have to win the old fashioned way. We returned to the battle line, knowing that the first blood was spilt by us.

One of the problems with Warriors, particularly young ones, is that they are impatient. The battles of today are frantic affairs, with the sides just lining up and either one side, or both, just advancing on the other. There is no finesse, no true test in that, for the true test of a warrior is to wait, knowing that soon battle will be joined and concentration must be total, but not knowing when the order might be given. And so we waited, in the gloom beneath the trees, with mystic smoke billowing across the clearing in front of us, and sounds of battle coming from our left as the Celts charged the shield walls, just as Corvus had predicted. I sent out scouts, archers mainly, who reported that the Celts were sending their own Scouts into the woods, but they would not come in far enough to find us. Obviously someone on the other side realised this, because soon we began to see shapes moving in the smoke. Our archers began to report that they were fighting a running battle with Celts in the smoke, but that they were winning as the Celts had no bows. Then, as the Celtic scouts pulled back, we all heard the unmistakable 'chink-chink-chink' of knights in heavy armour moving towards us. The Battle line shifted nervously, and I recalled the archers. Then I shouted for the line to hold, and not to break formation; skirmishers would stand little chance of stopping knights compared to a solid line. At this point Steel, who I later learnt was not best pleased himself at being with his new house way behind the lines, walked up and attempted to berate me for shouting at the troops, which, he claimed, was making them nervous. Deciding that I had no time to debate whether it was my voice or the knights that was having this effect, I ordered Sarigar to chop his head off if he opened his mouth again. Smiling, Sarigar drew his sabre and looked expectantly at Steel, who wisely decided to leave.

The noise of the Knights grew ever closer, and The Drow became very still, weapons held tightly, waiting for the enemy to emerge from the gloom and smoke. Then, as the wind swirled the smoke, they were there. A unit of perhaps thirty or so knights in plate and chainmail, with shields, in a tight and well disciplined phalanx. This would be a hard fought fight, for all that we outnumbered them, and it would at the very least deplete our healing stocks before the assault. However, it was then that their leader stepped forward and announced that since they had talked to The Matron Mothers, and had agreed a pact of non-aggression with them, they would withdraw from the woods. I nodded my agreement, but already the knight was wheeling his column round and marching back to the edge of the woods, and then out of them altogether. I had never seen the point of diplomats before, as they serve little purpose in The Underdark, but I thanked Shar and his skills then, silently, and to myself. Realising that I had no knowledge of any 'non-aggression pacts' I sent a runner back to The Matrons circle for advice on this matter; the runner returned shortly with word that the entire Dragons Faction had a non-aggression pact with us, and we should attempt to allow their escape if possible. That explained the knights, who were all members of the Dragons.

We waited some more, and the archers moved forward once again to pick off enemy that strayed too close, whilst the rest of us listened to the battle raging to our left. The waiting grew longer, and the anticipation grew, until it was clear that we would have to go very soon even without the order. Just as I had called some of the commanders together to tell them to calm their troops, a runner arrived from Lord Viper, and requested my presence at the link between The Vipers and The Drow. I jogged with him up the line, where Lord Diamecht was waiting. He swiftly informed me that Lord Corvus felt the time was right, and that The Celts had bunched so that their line was only two-thirds the length of ours, and anchored at the top, leaving The Drow facing very little other than skirmishers. We would move up to the edge of the wood and engage, before the final encirclement. Then we agreed a signal to begin the advance, and I returned to my troops. I had no sooner arrived than the signal was made, and all along the line my sub-commanders shouted 'general advance'. The Celts who were still in the woods fled before us as the Evil Sunz Ogres and The Drow moved inexorably through the trees, a fluid mass of black and white around the huge gobliniods that advanced with a silent and menacing intent. Within mere moments we had gained the edge of the tree-line, and commanders called halt to their troops.

Now, at last, The Celts could see exactly what dire trouble they were in. Spotting that The Drow had no shields, they began to mass skirmishers down the hill towards us, and then the same unit of knights that had come into the woods was sent into their line against us. With a roar the skirmishers launched themselves at us, Bears mainly, with no armour and little skill or finesse, but some courage. We stood and cut them down as they came at us, their dead impeding the next charge, and so on. Before long it became obvious even to them that they would not break through, and I swiftly dispatched a small unit under Sarigar to deal with the Celts who were attempting to creep around our flank at the very bottom of the woods; they did not survive Sarigar's intervention. The Celts pulled back, and prepared for the counter attack they knew was coming.

Another runner arrived from Lord Viper, with a request that we move out onto the open field and secure the bottom of the field and the woods there, effectively sealing the right flank. I had no problem with this, as Drow are fantastic shock troops that can assault and capture areas very well; it is holding them that we suffer at. Once again The Drow advanced, still anchored to The Evil Sunz on our left, and we swept out of the woods and into the side of the enemy before they could re-align their formations, securing the bottom woods and destroying a large group of Celts who had become cut off. Then we halted, and waited for the Celts to counter attack.

Had they done so, I still believe that we may well have lost, as our line was only two ranks deep at best with no shields and several gaps. The Celts line was now bowed round, trying to hold the front and right flank, or rather their left flank. They were being squeezed into a smaller area, but this did of course mean that they were more concentrated in numbers. However, they did not attack us directly. The Celts decided on one last charge at our end of the field, against the join between The Evil Sunz and The Drow. To spearhead it they chose the unit of knights we had seen earlier; this was to prove a costly mistake.

The Celts began to march forward, with units either side of the knights emulating them and staying in tight formations, We could see them tensing, ready to charge as they got close, but just at that moment The Beastmen stepped out from behind the line as a pack, moving swiftly toward the knights, and then parted as The Demon stepped out from the middle of the pack. The Knights looked on in horror as the Demon roared, the sound carrying the strength of a major enchantment that caused fear and panic in them. In moments, half of the knights had fled whilst the others immediately surrendered and offered to change sides forthwith, an offer which The Beastmen accepted.

Meanwhile, at the top end of the field, The Celts had mustered all of their archers in one place, and The Wolves had responded by concentrating both their own and The Lions' archers opposite them. Now, the two sides came closer as The Celts marched forward against the static Wolves, and as they came into range the archer commanders on both sides seemed to give the order simultaneously, as suddenly the sky above the two lines turned black with arrows. Looking up the hill at the two lines, I could not believe that anyone would survive such a storm of arrows, but then another, and another swarm went sailing over in both directions. The Final assault was upon us, and I needed no runner as I saw the Ogres begin to advance along-side Lord Viper's human guards. As I called for a general advance, my own House Troops, and in particular Guldor, sprinted up the hill slaying all in their path, whilst human mercenaries of The Chaos Guild guarded me from arrows with their shields, including the foulest mouthed female I have ever encountered. However, somehow several Celts managed to get in behind us and were charging us down when an Albino Drow archer saw the danger. With almost un-natural speed and skill, he shot down five of the attackers as they closed on us un-noticed by our troops, and then called a warning for us to deal with the final three, which we did in seconds. I have not seen such skill with a bow before, or indeed since, and I was glad he was with us that day. We raced up the hill, our pennant flying as Sarigar held it aloft, and plunged into the darkness of the woods at the top. There we encountered a unit of squeaky elves who we dispatched immediately before ploughing on through the woods and onto the bank on the far side. It felt exhilarating to charge thorough and capture the woods so swiftly, the very same woods we had been forced from the year before, and as we stood and cut down Celts that tried to escape, and allowed to pass any Dragons who identified themselves as such, I felt that a measure of revenge for our defeat had been gained. Soon the trickle of deserters dried up, and walking round the edge of the wood we could see why; The Bears had been surrounded in a small circle and the massacre was beginning. Those that did not lie down and play dead were slain out of hand, until not a Celt remained on his feet. Victory was total, and the bodies of the enemy, as well as quite a few allies, lay strewn about the battle field. A great cheer went up, and even we normally quiet Drow joined in. Then, almost as one, we sprinted down the hill and formed around The Matrons and their circle just in case any of our 'allies' decided that now would be a good moment to attempt to deal with us as well. They did not, and we marched un-hindered back to our camp.

Not long after we had returned, the retainers of The Celtic Queen arrived at the camp and requested that they be allowed in to see the Matrons. We agreed, having checked with Matron Saravay, and a little while later we were called in to remove the body of the chief retainer, killed by Matron Saravay herself. As the rest of them left, Matron Saravay explained that they had failed to protect The Queen when Lord Wolf and his Huscarles had charged at them, and The Queen had been slain by Lord Wolf personally. The Chief retainer therefore felt that he had failed, and had asked to be executed for his dereliction of duty; Matron Saravay was only too willing to oblige, and cut out his heart for him. However, not long afterwards a scout reported that Duke Carlennon had been assassinated during the battle; this was of little concern to us as we saw him as an excuse for a battle, rather than the reason for it, and anyway we had won. His expiry held no consequence for us.

With the Celts dead or demoralised, we decided that matters were relatively safe in the area, and retired to the tavern for a few hours while the slaves took down the tents and prepared for the journey back to the city. Raising drink after drink, we toasted Matron Saravay and her victory, and I in turn was toasted as the battle-field commander of the victorious Drow. Later Matron Saravay presented me with a medal for my part in the victory; for now we relaxed, and contemplated what the next visit to the surface in a year's time might bring us. This was the golden time of The Drow, although we did not know how fleeting it would prove. Still, we made the most of it. The Tavern was drunk dry when we left, and Matron Saravay, myself and indeed Prince Moonstar Moor'den'aar were somewhat the worse for wear.

Later, having returned to our various cities, The Drow agreed that the leadership should be shared, and each House given it's chance. So it was that The Black Kite Clan suggested House Moor'den'aar lead the following year. Matron Saravay, knowing that there would be several tasks she must perform within the city anyway, readily agreed and informed Matron Salix and Matron Shinnane that she would send her daughters and sons to aid them in the next year's ventures. This was accepted, and the principle of a revolving leadership established, although unfortunately not for long.