The Last Satyr: The Company is Formed Part 1

When asked who were the enemy of dwarves, Marroh thought about that and then gave the obvious answer.

“The worst enemy of a dwarf would be the drow,” he said.

“And why is that?” Graybeard asked.

“Some months ago, the miners of our underground city of Mills Breath accidentally broke into a drow chamber. There was news of fighting and war.”

Graybeard sighed and shook his head before looking at Duravane.

“Here you have had an ally all along against the drow in the dwarves, and yet you never even thought to ask them. Instead, you hired these two mercenaries. Again, Duravane, you never cease to disappoint.”

“I obeyed your wishes,” he said.

“To the least of your abilities,” Graybeard agreed. “By the way, have you tried the roast pig? I think you, of all people, should appreciate it.”

The boy squirmed, fearing Duravane would realize it was his pig, but the elf elder declined to try the pig. And how did Graybeard know it was Duravane's pig, anyway?

“So what is the latest word from Mills Breath?” Graybeard now asked the dwarf.

“No more word has come from there.”

Graybeard nodded solemnly. “The time has come to discuss our common enemy,” he said to all. “I will begin with a history of the drow. The Light Elves tell the story one way and the drow another. But, rest assured, they are the split-offs of the Light Elves. Afterwards, they became enemies, and the Light Elves drove them underground and forever banished them along with their keeper, Lolth. The name ‘drow’ comes from the elfish word for ‘traitor’. Lolth eventually organized them to seize the great underground cavern of Bhaerynden from the dwarves and established their first kingdom. After three thousand years of preparation, they attacked the surface fighting you humans, in what is now called the First War. After that, followed the Second War—when the satyrs intercepted the drow surface armies and defeated them.”

Graybeard paused, “So you see,” he told them all, “drow are the natural enemy of humans, dwarves, and satyrs.”

Heads nodded in agreement but not Duraven's. “But not the enemy of elves,” he interjected. “There has been no more war between the Light Elves and the drow since the first.”

“No more war does not mean no more fighting,” Graybeard corrected him. His eyes bore into Duravane’s, challenging him to reconsider. “You called them traitors, then. Do you still not call them traitors now? There are Light Elves who have lost their lives to drow many times since. They are routinely sacrificed to Lolth on a full moon.”

“That is a baseless lie!” retorted Duravane. “That has never happened here. The few drow that are troublesome are no more than mere bandits. No drow armies march! The land is clear of them. You wish to provoke us to war merely to satisfy your desire for revenge against your split off, Lolth!”

“Silence, you spineless worm!” stormed Graybeard in a commanding voice full of threat. “Did you not hear the dwarf? The dwarves and the drow are at war!”

Duravane’s retort came swift, “He said the dwarfs mined into one of their drow cities. They have no one to blame but themselves.”

“Ten thousand years ago, your fathers drove them underground into those caves. They thought they had seen the last of them,” said Graybeard. “Yet, twice since, their armies have come back to pillage and twice you have done nothing! To the drow, that is a sign of weakness. You would already be dead or their prisoner, but for the fact that they cannot stand the light of day. Your numbers have decreased while theirs have increased and Lolth breeds them to kill.”

“The keeper speaks the truth,” said Belam. “I come from the south and we know of the drow and they are not our friends. Indeed! I came here seeking help from the Light Elves against them. It is why I took your oath to fight and die for the elves—not for your promised gold.”

The boy took the opportunity to cut himself a tasty slice of the dripping pig's pork rib, his favorite part to chew on while the others argued.

“Why should we elves make alliances with humans?” Duravane demanded back, his tone dripping with disdain. “You live short lives, yet you populate the earth like ants! You conquer and destroy the land to make it serve you! You are an elf’s worst enemy! A thousand years from now, the drow will still be underground, but you will still be here and the trees will be gone, the fish extinct, and the rivers polluted! Why should we help you? We wish the drow good luck against you!”

“We stand guard over their tunnels,” Belam warned him, his voice unwavering. “Once they remove us, you will be next.”

“Then we shall be ready for them!” Duravane declared, facing Belam defiantly, . “For in your deaths not only shall you weaken them for us but the two most wicked races of the world shall both be gotten rid of!”

“Enough!” Graybeard cried at the elf elder. “You have made clear the side you have chosen and it is not ours. So leave, Duravane!” The old keeper raised his staff to hurry him on. “Leave this place and do not come back! And do not hide in the bushes and try and listen for there is a displacer beast about and I believe someone, I don’t know who,” added Graybeard with a slight touch of warning, “has given it your scent. I would head quickly for home if I were you—and by the shortest path.”

Duravane’s face went first ashen grey and then white to hear this. He left abruptly, without looking back.

Amien watched him go in amazement. “He does not follow the advice of his own keeper?”

“An elf gives advice to all. He takes it from none,” answered Graybeard. “But notice he heeded my warning about the displacer beast? He knows of it and knows it’s a drow pet. The drow are here, in these very woods, seeking the boy.”

“What do they want with a satyr?” Belam asked curiously.

“After the Second War, the satyrs all disappeared a few years ago—all but this one. There is no sign they died in battle, but they disappeared overnight. I believe they were captured by the drow and taken away underground and made into slaves.”

“Or perhaps sacrificed,” offered Belam in explanation, “to their goddess Lolth.”

“No bodies were found,” noted Graybeard in reply. “But, either way, they wanted no more satyrs on the surface. They want even this last one. They sent that displacer beast to kill him. To Lolth and her followers, the satyrs represent an obstacle.”

“What sort of obstacle?”

“To invasion,” Graybeard replied, “They may fear he might open the eyes of the Light Elves to their danger or take their side in the fighting. I had hoped it was the former and for which reason I made the elves take the boy in when he was found. But his effect appears to have been nil.”

“Which leaves the latter,” Amien concluded. “They fear the boy will fight against them. But I am curious. Why would they fear fighting the boy? He is hardly old enough to lead anyone in battle. And why do the drow seek to invade the surface when they cannot stand the light of day?”

“As to your first question,” Graybeard stated, “they lost to the satyrs in the Second War and not by superior arms. The satyrs outsmarted them and more than once. They know satyr thinking is different from their own and, in battle, that makes the satyr more cunning and dangerous. As to your second question, why invade a land that blinds them? They do it for greed. It was their greed that got them exiled. It was an exile that was forced upon them. That is grounds for revenge."

Marroh nodded and added, “Their minds are bred for cruelty and malice. Ten thousand years may have passed, but they have not forgotten their punishers. Revenge comes easily to them.”

“And so why do we follow a boy as our captain?” Belam wanted to know again.

“For the very reason that Lolth fears him,” Graybeard shared. “She does not understand his thinking and he has organized a troop of robbers, of which the three of us have joined. He is an artful thief and a skillful liar, the very traits we need for those we are going to rob.”

“And who are we going to rob?” Amien asked.

“Why the drow, of course,” replied Graybeard. “We are about to rob them of all their satyr slaves and the boy here, being a satyr, will lead the way.”

Graybeard looked towards him. “Isn’t that right, boy?”

Everyone turned to the boy at that, who was taken by surprise at the mere thought. Him lead them all against Lolth? She was a monster and so were all her followers. Nobody did that. Where did they get that wild idea? Why they'd be killed and eaten or maybe even eaten first and then killed! Rob drow? The drow would rob them.

Suddenly, the boy felt very light-headed. The stars began to spin overhead at their very terrifying thought doing what he’d just heard proposed.

Then he swooned and fell, overcome with mind-numbing fear. But the others would have none of it, for they gathered around him to hear his plan on where he’d lead them.