The Lightless Dark

by CandiestPop

Rating: mature
Tags: Sad, Drama, Adventure, Tragedy, Dark, Alternate Universe
Length: 5000

The Lightless Dark is an unforgiving expanse of caverns that houses creatures far to corrupt and evil for surface ponies to even fathom. But what is it like when ponies from The Lightless Dark come to the surface in defiance of their old ways?

In Manezoberranzan, betrayal and deceit are a day to day occurrence. Of course, there are rules of behavior, every society boasts of these. To openly commit murder or wage war invites the pretense of justice, and penalties exacted in the name of Under-Pony justice are merciless. To stick a dagger in the back of a rival during the chaos of a larger battle or in the quiet shadows of an alley, however, is quite acceptable, even applauded. Investigation is not the forte of Under-Pony justice. No one cares enough to bother. Those most powerful in Manezoberranzan spend their days watching over their shoulders, defending against the daggers that would find their backs. Their deaths usually come from the front.

Despite all this evil, a small glimmer of hope is found, and this glimmer of hope will break free from his society and attempt to change the world.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-03-26 18:10:01 UTC

Family

To a surface pony, he might have passed undetected only a foot away. The padded footfalls of his hooves were too light to be heard, and the pliable and perfectly crafted mesh armor that he wore, bent and creased with his delicate movements as well as if the armour had grown over his skin. Dark Blade trotted along in an easy but swift gait, floating over the broken floor, up the walls, and even across the long tunnel's ceiling. Subterranean Pegasi scale stone as easily as a spider. Crossing hard ground left no damning tracks in the lighted surface world, but nearly all of the creatures of The Lightless Dark possessed infra-vision, the ability to see in the infrared spectrum. He had no light to guide him, but he needed none. To Dark Blade's superior eyes, which translated subtle variations of heat into vivid and colorful images, The Lightless Dark was far from a 'lightless' place. Colors all across the spectrum swirled before him in the stone of the walls and the floor, heated by some distant fissure or hot stream. The heat of living things was the most distinctive, letting the subterranean pony view his enemies in details as intricate as any surface pony would find in brilliant daylight.

Normally Dark Blade would not have left the city alone, the world of The Lightless Dark was too dangerous for solo treks, even for an Under-Pony. This day was different, though. Dark Blade had to be certain that no unfriendly, heat sensing, pony eyes marked his passage. A soft blue magical glow beyond a sculpted archway told the Under-Pegasus that he neared the city's entrance, and he slowed his pace accordingly. Few used this narrow tunnel, which opened into Tier Breche, the northern section of Manezoberranzan devoted to the Academy, and none but the mistresses and masters, the instructors of the Academy, could pass through here without attracting suspicion. Dark Blade was always nervous when he came to this point. Of the hundred tunnels that opened off the main cavern of Manezoberranzan, this one was the best guarded. Beyond the archway, twin statues of gigantic crescent moons sat in quiet defense. If an enemy crossed through without disarming the magical enchantments and traps, the moons would animate and attack with magical beams of energy that can incinerate anything in its gaze, and alarms would be sounded all throughout the Academy, alerting everyone inside and often bringing about a hasty demise.

Dark Blade settled softly in front of the ornately carved archway, gazing up at the towering, fifteen foot moon statues that gazed down upon the entryway to the Academy. He huffed and reached into his saddlebags, hidden by his magical cloak, or piwafwi as the Under-Pony race called it. He produced a small insignia with the letters DB, his initials, on it, and held it aloft in front of him. Dark Blade took a deep breath and gingerly stepped to the archway. The Academy was an unpredictable place, Dark Blade

had heard that the moons often refused entry viciously; even to uninvited ponies.

He could not be delayed by fears and possibilities, Dark Blade reminded himself. His business was of the utmost importance to his family's battle plans. Looking straight ahead, away from the towering moons, he strode between them and onto the floor of Tier Breche. He moved to the side and paused, first to be certain that no one lurked nearby, and then to admire the sweeping view of Manezoberranzan. No one, pony or otherwise, had ever looked out from this spot without a sense of wonder at the Under-Pony city.

Tier Breche was the highest point on the floor of the two-mile cavern, affording a panoramic view to the rest of Manezoberranzan. The cubby of the Academy was narrow, holding only the three structures that comprised the Under-Pony school: Lunas Tinilth, the crescent moon-shaped school of Nightmare Moon, Sorcere, the gracefully curving, many-spired tower of wizardry, and Melee Magthere, the somewhat plain pyramidal structure where male fighters learned their trade, if one could consider it that. Beyond Tier Breche, through the ornate stalagmite columns that marked the entrance to the Academy, the cavern dropped away quickly and spread wide, going far beyond Dark Blade's line of vision to either side and farther back then his keen eyes could possibly see. The colors of Marezoberranzan were threefold to the sensitive eyes of the Under-Pony. Heat patterns from various fissures and hot springs swirled about the entire cavern. Purple and red, bright yellow and subtle blue, crossed and merged, climbed the walls and stalagmite mounds, or ran off singularly in cutting lines against the backdrop of dim gray stone. More confined than these generalized and natural gradations of color in the infrared spectrum were the regions of intense magic, like the moons Dark Blade had walked between, virtually glowing with energy. Finally there were the actual lights of the city, faerie fire and highlighted sculptures on the houses. The Under-Ponies were proud of the beauty of their designs, and especially ornate columns or perfectly crafted gargoyles were almost always limned in permanent magical lights.

Even from this distance Dark Blade could make out House Hoofrae, First House of Manezoberranzan. It encompassed twenty stalagmite pillars and half again that number of gigantic stalactites. House Hoofrae had existed for five thousand years, since the founding of Manezoberranzan, and in that time the work to perfect the house's art had never ceased. Practically every inch of the immense structure glowed in faerie fire, blue at the outlying towers and brilliant purple at the huge central dome. The sharp light of candles, foreign to The Lightless Dark, glared through some of the windows of the distant houses. Only clerics or Unicorns would light the fires,  knew, as necessary pains in their world of scrolls and parchments. This was Manezoberranzan, the city of Under-Ponies. Twenty thousand ponies lived there, twenty thousand soldiers in the army of evil.

A wicked smile spread across Dark Blade's lips when he thought of some of those soldiers who would fall this night. Dark Blade studied Narbondale, the huge central pillar that served as the time clock of Manezoberranzan. Narbondale was the only way the Under-Ponies had to mark the passage of time in a world that otherwise knew no days and no seasons. At the end of each day, the city's appointed Archmare cast her magical fires into the base of the stone pillar. There, the spell lingered throughout the cycle, a full day on the surface, and gradually spread its warmth up the structure of Narbondale until the whole of it glowed red in the infrared spectrum. The pillar was fully dark now, cooled since the spell's fires had expired. The unicorn was at the base even now , Dark Blade reasoned, ready to begin the cycle anew, starting a new day.  It was midnight, the appointed hour. Dark Blade moved away from the moons and the tunnel exit and crept along the side of Tier Breche, seeking the "shadows" of heat patterns in the wall, which would effectively hide the distinct outline of his own body temperatures. He came at last to Sorcere, the school of unicorn wizardry, and slipped into the narrow alley between the tower's curving base and Tier Breche's outer wall.

"Student or master?" came an expected whisper.

"Only a master may walk out of house in Tier Breche in the black death of Narbondale" Dark Blade responded.

A heavily robed mare moved around the arc of the structure to stand before Dark Blade, "Greetings, Faceless One" Dark Blade motioned in the silent code of hoof movements that only the Under-Pony nobles, or figures of similar importance, knew. The quiver of Dark Blade's hooves belied his calm facade, though, for the sight of this unicorn put him as far on the edge of his nerves as he had ever been.

"Dark Blade, Secondcolt of House Brae'Herba" the wizard replied in the gestured code. "Have you my payment?"

"You will be compensated" Dark Blade signaled pointedly, regaining his composure in the first swelling bubbles of his temper. "Do you dare to doubt the promise of Poison Dagger, Matron Mare of House Brae'Herba, Tenth House of Manezoberranzan?"

The Faceless One slumped back, knowing she had erred.

"My apologies, Secondcolt Dark Blade" she answered, dropping into a kneel on her forehooves in a gesture of surrender. Since she had entered this conspiracy, the unicorn had feared that her impatience might cost her her life. She had been caught in the violent throes of one of her own magical experiments, the tragedy melting away all of her facial features and leaving behind a blank hot spot of white and green goo. Matron Poison Dagger, reputedly as skilled as anyone in all the vast city in mixing potions and salves, had offered her a sliver of hope that she could not pass by.

No pity found its way into Dark Blade's callous heart, but House Brae'Herba needed the powerful unicorn. "You will get your salve" Dark Blade promised calmly, "when Black Onyx is dead"

"Of course" the wizardly unicorn agreed. "This night?"

Dark Blade considered the question. Matron Mare Poison Dagger had instructed him that Black Onyx should die even as their families' battle commenced. That scenario now seemed too clean, too easy, to Dark Blade. The Faceless One did not miss the sparkle that suddenly brightened the scarlet glow in the young stallion's heat-sensing eyes.

"Wait for Narbondale's light to approach its peak" Dark Blade replied, his hooves working through the signals excitedly and his grimace seeming more of a twisted grin.

"Should the doomed stallion know of his house's fate before he dies?" the disfigured unicorn asked, guessing the wicked intentions behind Dark Blade's instructions.

"As the killing blow falls" answered Dark Blade. "Let Black Onyx die without hope"

Dark Blade sped off down the empty corridors, finding an intersecting route that would take him in through a different entrance to the city proper. He came in along the eastern end of the great cavern, Manezoberranzan's produce section, where no Under-Pony families would see that he had been outside the city limits and where only a few unremarkable stalagmite pillars rose up from the flat stone. Dark Blade along the banks of Tunnidal, the city's small pond with its moss-covered island that housed a fair-sized herd of cattlelike creatures called roff. A hundred goblins and orcs looked up from their roff herding and cave fishing duties to mark the under-pegasus' swift passage. Knowing their restrictions as slaves, they took care not to look Dark Blade in the eye; he would have paid them no mind anyway. He was too consumed by the urgency of the moment. He hurried to even greater speeds when he again was on the flat and curving avenues between the glowing Under-Pony stalagmite castles. He moved toward the south-central region of the city, toward the grove of giant mushrooms that marked the section of the finest houses in Manezoberranzan.

As he came around one blind turn, he nearly ran over a group of four wandering bugbears. The hairy goblin things paused a moment to consider the Under-Pony, then moved slowly but purposefully out of his way. The bugbears recognized him as a member of House Brae'Herba, Dark Blade knew. He was a noble, a son of a high priestess, and thus, a figure of extreme importance in the city of the Under-Pony race. Of the twenty thousand Under-Ponies in Manezoberranzan, only a thousand or so were nobles, actually the children of the sixty-seven recognized families of the city. The rest were common soldiers. Bugbears were not stupid creatures. They knew a noble from a commoner, and though Under-Ponies did not carry their family insignia in plain view, the fashionable pointed and tailed cut of Dark Blade's stark white mane and jet black coat, along with the distinctive pattern of purple and red lines in his black piwafwi told them well enough who he was.

The mission's urgency pressed upon Dark Blade, but he could not ignore the bugbears' slight. How fast would they have scampered away if he had been a member of House Hoofrae or one of the other seven ruling houses? he wondered. "You will learn respect of House Brae'Herba soon enough!" the under-pegasus whispered under his breath, as he turned and charged directly towards the four bugbears in his path. The bugbears broke into a run, turning down an alley strewn with stones and debris. Dark Blade found his satisfaction by calling on the innate powers that all Under-Ponies posses, whether they be an earth, pegasus, or unicorn. He summoned a globe of darkness impervious to both infra-vision and normal sight in the fleeing creatures' path. He supposed that it was unwise to call such attention to himself, but a moment later, when he heard crashing and sputtered curses as the bugbears stumbled blindly over the stones, he felt it was worth the risk.

His anger sated, he moved off again, picking a more careful route through the heat shadows.  As a member of the tenth house of the city, Dark Blade could go as he pleased within the giant cavern without question, but Matron Mare Poison Dagger had made it clear that no one connected to House Brae'Herba was to be caught anywhere near the mushroom grove. Matron Mare Poison Dagger, Dark Blade's mother, was not to be crossed, but it was only a rule, after all. In Manezoberranzan, one rule, took precedence over all of the petty others, Don't get caught.

At the mushroom grove's southern end, the impetuous Under-Pony found what he was looking for: a cluster of five huge floor-to-ceiling pillars that were hollowed into a network of chambers and connected with metal and stone parapets and bridges. Red-glowing gargoyles, the standard of the house, glared down from a hundred perches like silent sentries. This was House DolVen, Fourth House of Manezoberranzan. A stockade of tall mushrooms ringed the place, every fifth one a "shrieker", a sentient fungus named (and favored as guardians) for the shrill cries of alarm it emitted whenever a living being passed it by. Dark Blade kept a cautious distance, not wanting to set off one of the shriekers and knowing also that other, deadlier, wards protected the fortress. Matron Mare Poison Dagger would see to those. An expectant hush permeated the air of this city section. It was general knowledge throughout Manezoberranzan that Matron Mare Bleak Spell of House DolVen had fallen out of favor with Nightmare Moon, the Queen of the Dark, deity to all Under-Ponies, and the true source of every house's strength and power. Such circumstances were never openly discussed among the Under-Ponies, but everyone who knew, fully expected that some family lower in the city hierarchy soon would strike out against the crippled House DolVen. Matron Mare Bleak Spell was the latest to fall out of Nightmare Moon's favor, thus losing their magic that protected their house from invaders and Dark Blade could tell just by scanning the outside of House DolVen that the doomed family had not found ample time to erect proper defenses. DolVen sported nearly four hundred soldiers, many of these being mares, but those that Dark Blade could now see at their posts along the parapets seemed nervous and unsure.

Dark Blade's smile spread even wider when he thought of his own house, which grew in power daily under the cunning guidance of Matron Mare Poison Dagger.  With all three of his sisters rapidly approaching the status of high priestess, his brother an accomplished unicorn, and his uncle Swift Wing, the finest weapon master in all of Manezoberranzan, busily training his own house's own three hundred soldiers, House Brae'Herba was a complete force. And, Matron Mare Poison Dagger, unlike Bleak Spell, was in the Queen of the Dark's full favor. "House Brae'Herba," Dark Blade whispered to himself, "Ninth House of Manezoberranzan!" He liked the sound of it.

Halfway across the city, beyond the silver-glowing balcony and the arched doorway twenty feet up the cavern's west wall, sat the principals of House Brae'Herba, gathered to outline the final plans of the night's work. On the raised dais at the back of the small audience chamber sat venerable Matron Mare Poison Dagger, with her grey coat and black mane and her belly swollen in the final hours of pregnancy. Flanking her in their places of honor were her three daughters, Spider Bite, a red coat and black maned mare, who was also the youngest daughter of the family, Cold Heart, a icy blue mane and dark blue coat made her a distinct figure in the house, and the eldest, Killing Blow, a mare with a blood red mane and deeper red coat was a newly ordained high priestess of Nightmare Moon. Spider Bite and Cold Heart appeared as younger versions of their mother, slender and deceptively small, though possessing great strength. Killing Blow, though, hardly carried the family resemblance. She was big, huge by Under-Pony standards, a towering 5 feet tall, and rounded in the hips. Those who knew Killing Blow well figured that her size was merely a circumstance of her temperament, a smaller body could not have contained the anger and brutal streak of House Brae'Herba's newest high priestess.

"Dark Blade should return soon" remarked a steely gray stallion named Bolty, the present patron stallion of the family, "to let us know if the time is right for the assault."

"We go before Narbondale finds its morning glow!" Killing Blow snapped at him in her thick but razor-sharp voice. She turned a crooked smile to her mother, seeking approval for putting the stallion in his place.

"The child comes this night" Matron Mare Poison Dagger explained to her anxious husband, glancing at her own stomach. "We go no matter what news Dark Blade bears."

"It will be a colt" groaned Killing Blow, making no effort to hide her disappointment, "third living son of House Brae'Herba."

"To be sacrificed to Nightmare Moon" put in a jet black pegasus with a white mane, Swift Wing, a former patron of the house who now held the important position of weapon master. The skilled under-pegasus fighter seemed pleased at the thought of sacrifice, as did Deep Steel, the family's eldest son, who stood at Swift Wing's side. Deep Steel was the elder-colt, and he needed no more competition beyond Dark Blade within the ranks of House Brae'Herba.

"In accord with custom" Killing Blow glowered and the red of her eyes brightened. "To aid in our victory!" Bolty shifted uncomfortably. "Matron Mare" he dared to speak, "you know well the difficulties of birthing. Might the pain distract you?"

"You dare to question the matron mare?" Killing Blow started sharply, turning her head to grasp the hilt of a snake headed whip so comfortably strapped and writhing on her side. Matron Mare Poison Blade stopped her with an outstretched hoof.

"Attend to the fighting" the matron said to Bolty. "Let the mares of the house see to the important matters of this battle." Bolty shifted again and dropped his gaze.

Dark Blade came to the magically wrought fence that connected the keep within the city's west wall with the two small stalagmite towers of House Brae'Herba, and which formed the courtyard to the compound. The fence was adamantite, the hardest metal in all the world, and adorning it were a hundred crescent moon carvings, each enchanted with deadly glyphs and wards. The mighty gate of House Brae'Herba was the envy of many a Under-Pony house, but so soon after viewing the spectacular houses in the mushroom grove, Dark Blade could only find disappointment when looking upon his own abode. The compound was plain and somewhat bare, as was the section of wall, with the notable exception of the mithril and adamantite balcony running along the second level, by the arched doorway reserved for the nobility of the family. Each baluster of that balcony sported a thousand carvings, all of which blended into a single piece of art. House Brae'Herba, unlike the great majority of the houses in Manezoberranzan, did not stand free within groves of stalactites and stalagmites. The bulk of the structure was within a cave, and while this setup was indisputably defensible, Dark Blade found himself wishing that his family could show a bit more grandeur. An excited soldier rushed to open the gate for the returning secondcolt. Dark Blade swept past him without so much as a word of greeting and moved across the courtyard, conscious of the hundred and more curious glances that fell upon him. The soldiers and slaves knew that Dark Blade's mission this night had something to do with the anticipated battle.

No stairway led to the silvery balcony of House Brae'Herba's second level. This, too, was a precautionary measure designed to segregate the leaders of the house from the rabble and the slaves. Under-Pony nobles needed no stairs, another manifestation of their innate magical abilities allowed them the power of levitation. However, as an Under-Pegasus, this was rather irrelevant to Dark Blade. With hardly a conscious thought to the act, Dark Blade lifted up into the air on his black wings and easily dropped onto the balcony. He rushed through the archway and down the house's main central corridor, which was dimly lit in the soft hues of faerie fire, allowing for sight in the normal light spectrum but not bright enough to defeat the use of infra-vision. The ornate brass door at the corridor's end marked the secondcolt's destination, and he paused before it to allow his eyes to shift back to the infrared spectrum. Unlike the corridor, the room beyond the door had no light source. It was the audience hall of the high priestesses, the anteroom to House Brae'Herba's grand chapel. The Under-Ponies clerical rooms, in accord with the dark rites of the Queen of the Dark, were not places of light.

When he felt he was prepared, Dark Blade pushed straight through the door, shoving past the two shocked guard mares without hesitation and moving boldly to stand before his mother. All three of the family daughters narrowed their eyes at their brash and pretentious brother. You enter without permission! he knew they were thinking. He should be the one to be sacrificed this night! As much as he enjoyed testing the limitations of his inferior station as a stallion, Dark Blade could not ignore the threatening glances of Spider Bite, Cold Heart, and Killing Blow. Being mares, they were smaller, but stronger than Dark Blade and had trained all of their lives in the use of wicked Under-Pony clerical powers and weapons. Dark Blade watched as enchanted extensions of the clerics, the dreaded snake-headed whips on his sisters' sides, began writhing in anticipation of the punishment they would exact upon his inferior body. The handles were adamantite and ordinary enough, but the whips' lengths and multiple heads were living serpents. Killing Blow's whip, in particular, a wicked six-headed device, danced and squirmed, tying itself into knots around the belt that held it to her side. Killing Blow was always the quickest to punish, and her name was not coincidental. Matron Malice, however, seemed pleased by Dark Blade's swagger. The secondcolt knew his place well enough by her measure and he followed her commands fearlessly and without question. Dark Blade took comfort in the calmness of his mother's face, quite the opposite of the shining red-hot faces of his three sisters.

"All is ready" he said to her. "House DolVen huddles within its fence-except for Black Onyx, of course, foolishly attending his studies in Sorcere."

"You have met with the Faceless One?" Matron Mare Poison Dagger asked.

"The Academy was quiet this night" Dark Blade replied. "Our meeting went off perfectly."

"He has agreed to our contract?"

"Alton DolVen will be dealt with accordingly," Dark Blade chuckled. He then remembered the slight alteration he had made in the matron mare's plans, delaying Black Onyx's execution for the sake of his own lust for added cruelty. Dark Blade's thought evoked another recollection as well: high priestesses of Midnight Moon had an unnerving talent for reading thoughts.

"Black Onyx will die this night" Dark Blade quickly completed the answer, assuring the others before they could probe him for more definite details.

"Excellent," Killing Blow growled. Dark Blade breathed a little easier.

"To the meld," Matron Mare Poison Dagger ordered.

The four stallions moved to kneel before the matron mare and her daughters: Bolty to Poison Dagger, Swift Wing to Killing Blow, Deep Steel to Cold Heart, and Dark Blade to Spider Bite. The clerics chanted in unison, placing one hoof delicately upon the forehead of their respective soldier, tuning in to his passions. Now, their minds where melded, allowing one to read the others thoughts and vice versa.

"You know your places" Matron Mare Poison Blade said when the ceremony was completed. She grimaced through the pain of a contraction. "Let our work begin"

Less than an hour later, Swift Wing and Killing Blow stood together on the balcony outside the upper entrance to House Brae'Herba. Below them, on the cavern floor, the second and third brigades of the family army, Bolty's and Deep Steel's, bustled about, fitting on heated leather straps and metal patches; camouflage against a distinctive pony form to heat-seeing Under-Pony eyes. Dark Blade's group, the initial strike force that included a hundred goblin slaves, had long since departed.

"We will be known after this night" Killing Blow said. "None would have suspected that a tenth house would dare to move against one as powerful as DolVen. When the whispers ripple out after this night's bloody work, even House Hoofrae will take note of us!"

She leaned out over the balcony to watch as the two brigades formed into lines and started-out, silently, along separate paths that would bring them through the winding city to the mushroom grove and the five-pillared structure of House DolVen. Swift Wing eyed the back of Matron Mare Poison Dagger's eldest daughter, wanting nothing more than to put a dagger into her spine. As always, though, good judgment kept his practiced hooves in their place.

"Have you the articles?" Killing Blow inquired, showing Swift Wing considerably more respect than she had when the matron mare sat protectively at her side.

Swift Wing was only a stallion, a commoner allowed to don the family name as his own because he sometimes served Matron Mare Poison Dagger in a husbandly manner and had once been the patron of the house. Still, Killing Blow feared to anger him. Swift Wing was the weapon master of House Brae'Herba, a tall and muscular stallion, stronger than most mares, and those who had witnessed his fighting wrath considered him among the finest warriors of either sex in all of Manezoberranzan. Besides Killing Blow and her mother, both high priestesses of the Nightmare Moon, Swift Wing, with his unrivaled swordsmanship, was House Brae Herba's trump.

Swift Wing opened the small pouch on his flank, revealing several tiny ceramic spheres. Killing Blow smiled evilly. "Matron Mare Bleak Spell will not be pleased" she whispered.

Swift Wing returned the smile and turned to view the departing soldiers. Nothing gave the weapon master more pleasure than killing Under-Ponies, particularly clerics of Nightmare Moon.

"Prepare yourself" Killing Blow said after a few minutes.

Swift Wing shook his thick mane back from his face and stood rigid, eyes tightly closed. Killing Blow ignited her horn, beginning the chant that would activate the devices Swift Wing had brought. She tapped him on one shoulder, then the other, then held her horn motionless over his head. Swift Wing felt the frosty sprinkles falling down on him, permeating his barding and armor, even his skin, until he and all of his possessions had cooled to an equal temperature. Swift Wing hated the magical chill, it felt as he imagined death would feel but he knew that under the influence of the magic sprinkles he was, to the heat-sensing eyes of the creatures of The Lightless Dark, gray as common stone, unremarkable and undetectable.

Swift Wing opened his eyes and shuddered, the chill still lingering on his body. He flexed his neck and stretched, assuring himself that he could still perform in combat. He looked back to Killing Blow, already in the midst of the second spell, the summoning. This one would take a while, so Swift Wing sat on his rear, against the wall and considered again the pleasant, though dangerous, task before him. How thoughtful of Matron Mare Poison Dagger to leave all of House DolVen's clerics to him!

"It is done" Killing Blow announced after a few minutes. She led Swift Wing's gaze upward, to the darkness beneath the unseen ceiling of the immense cavern.

Swift Wing spotted Killing Blow's handiwork first, an approaching current of air, yellow-tinted and warmer than the normal air of the cavern. A living current of air. The creature, a conjuration from an elemental plane, swirled to hover just beyond the lip of the balcony, obediently awaiting its summoner's commands. Swift Wing didn't hesitate. He leaped out into the thing's midst, letting it hold him suspended above the floor. Killing Blow offered him a final salute and motioned her servant away.

"Good fighting" she called to Swift Wing, though he was already invisible in the air above her.

Swift Wing chuckled at the irony of her words as the twisting city of Manezoberranzan rolled out below him. She wanted the clerics of House DolVen dead as surely as Swift Wing did, but for very different reasons. All complications aside, he would have been just as happy killing clerics of House Brae'Herba. The weapon master took up one of his adamantite swords into his muzzle, an Under-Pony weapon magically crafted and unbelievably sharp with the edge of killing enchantments.

"Good fighting indeed" he whispered. If only Killing Blow knew how good.