The Underdark

The corridor's echo still clung to my boots as Karlach and I stepped back into the main chamber of the Zhentarim hideout. The air down here carried the smell of old stone undercut by the sulfuric bite of smokepowder.

The others waited near a stack of crates: a loose knot of lethal beauty. Lae'zel's arms were folded, her yellow eyes cutting through the torchlight. Shadowheart leaned against a barrel, her dark braid draped over her shoulder, her plunging black dress catching the flicker of flame. Kagha stood a little apart, serene as ever, her spidersilk armor hugging every curve, Teela coiled lazily on her shoulder. They turned as one when we approached.

“You're back,” Lae'zel said, her gravelly voice clipped. “Did you retrieve what was required?”

I pulled the ingot free just enough to let the dim light kiss its black surface. It gleamed dully, warm against my palm. “Right here. Zarys just needed a bit of... convincing.”

Karlach let out a low whistle beside me, her engine thrumming a touch brighter. She grinned, fangs flashing. “Yeah, you could say that. She got the long end of the stick though—”

I cleared my throat loudly, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Well, all she really got from us was the chest. Everyone’s a winner.”

Lae'zel gave a sharp nod, her full lips twitching. “Pragmatic. Better to take what we need than waste time on locked chests of doubtful value.”

Shadowheart's lips curved in a dry smile. She pushed off the barrel with a rustle of her long sleeves. “Of course. If anyone was going to have infernal metal of questionable origin lying around, it would be the Zhentarim.”

Kagha's emerald eyes glowed with approval. She tilted her head, copper hair sliding like silk over one shoulder. “A wise allocation. You always know exactly where to look.” Teela flicked her tongue once in—what could be—approval before settling back against Kagha's neck.

The banter flowed easily as we moved deeper into the hideout, following Zarys's directions. The corridors narrowed, torches thinning until the air grew cooler and damper. We passed stacked crates and watchful sentries who nodded us through without a word.

After another few twists and turns, the huge boulder loomed as promised. Behind it, a hidden door yielded with a grinding push. Beyond it stretched a cavernous room dominated by a sizeable platform of wood and rope—an elevator rigged with pulleys and counterweights that looked sturdy enough to haul an ogre—or three. The girls fanned out, taking it in.

“This is adequate,” Lae'zel muttered, running her hand along one thick rope. Her hips swayed with corrupted grace as she circled it, the leather of her refitted half-plate creaking softly. “Githyanki drop-pods are far swifter. This... lacks the elegance of falling.”

Shadowheart tilted her head back, her gothy makeup stark in the soft light. “It also lacks the broken bones. I'll take the slow ride, thank you.”

Kagha's face lit with quiet wonder. “The Grove could never dream of such mechanisms,” she murmured, voice soft with genuine awe. “So powerful, yet bearing not a trace of magic… How utterly ingenious.”

I kept my expression neutral, but inside, I knew. Other ways existed—nasty ladders that went on forever, or a suicidal leap from the Spider cave. This elevator saved us the crawl, and the bruises. “Better than stairs,” I said aloud, stepping onto the platform. It creaked under our combined weight, a low groan of rope and timber that vibrated up through my boots. “Everyone on. Let's not keep the dark waiting.”

We triggered the mechanism with a lever that hissed like a released breath. The platform lurched once, then began its steady descent, the creak of ropes and pulleys filling the shaft. Down we went, the torchlight from above fading to pinpricks, the air growing thicker, cooler, laced with the thick earthy musk of unseen depths. Minutes stretched—long enough for the tension to build, for Karlach to shift restlessly beside me, her engine's glow casting orange flickers across the others' faces. Lae'zel's hand rested on her greatsword's hilt, eyes scanning the walls. Shadowheart murmured a soft prayer to Shar, her fingers brushing her palm out of habit. Kagha simply watched the darkness below, eyes gleaming with expectation.

The time stretched for what felt like hours.

Then the vista opened.

The Underdark unfolded like a fever dream painted in impossible hues. Vast caverns yawned away in every direction, lit by bioluminescent moss that pulsed a soft, ethereal blue-green across jagged walls and ceiling arches. Mushroom forests towered in the distance, their caps glowing in reds and purples, spore clouds drifting like lazy smoke. Unthinkable plants writhed in crevices—leaves that shimmered with inner light, vines that pulsed with faint veins of magic. Twisting bridges of natural stone arched between outcrops, some laced with faint webbing that caught the glow like jeweled nets. The scale of it pressed against the senses, an endless glowing expanse swallowing the eye.

“By Vlaakith,” Lae'zel breathed, her clipped tone softening for once. “This is no mere cave system. It is a battlefield worthy of empires.”

Shadowheart leaned forward, her lithe form silhouetted against the glow, black dress fluttering in the faint updraft. “Shar would approve. All this loss of light... it's almost poetic. Too bad about the smell.” Her voice held a husky edge, but there was genuine awe beneath the sarcasm.

Karlach let out a low whistle, her massive frame practically vibrating. “Hells below, look at that. Those mushrooms are bigger than some buildings I've smashed.” She bumped my shoulder gently “You sure know how to pick the scenic routes, soldier.”

Kagha's reaction was purest of all. Her emerald eyes widened, violet undertones flaring as she drank it in, lips parting in serene delight. She stepped to the platform's edge, one hand resting on the rope as if to steady herself against the wonder. “This... this is what the old tomes whispered of. The poisonous blooms, the glowing heart of the earth. Tav, it is more alive than I imagined. I could lose myself in those forests for decades and call it home.” Her voice was velvet reverence, breathy with an edge of devotion. Teela remained on Kagha's shoulder, though her tongue flicked wildly, savoring a world of new scents.

The platform groaned to a halt at the bottom, settling with a final creak into an unmanned Zhentarim outpost perched on a tall cliff overlook. Defensive walls of rough-hewn stone ringed a small area cluttered with crates, barrels, and scattered tools. Below, a net ladder dangled like an invitation to the proper floor of this mad realm.

“Stay here,” I said, before anyone could protest, “I'll scout ahead.” I swung over the edge and crawled down steadily, the drop yawning beneath me. At the bottom, I jumped the last couple of meters, landing in a crouch on the uneven stone. This had always been a tricky part. I searched and quickly found a faint seam in the ground where a pressure trap lurked. I grabbed a nearby rock and placed it square on the trigger plate. It clicked softly, disarmed without fanfare. The girls above just looked on without question. At this point they simply accepted that uncanny knack of mine.

I gave a thumbs-up. “Coast is clear. Come on down.”

They descended one by one. Lae'zel first with warrior precision, her thick thighs flexing as she controlled the drop. Shadowheart followed, graceful despite the dress's slits, landing light as a shadow. Kagha moved like liquid night, completely silent as she slithered down the ropes. Karlach came last, her bulk making the ladder groan, but she stuck the landing with a hero's pose, breasts heaving from the effort.

We advanced under my lead, boots crunching faintly on loose gravel, the glowing moss casting everything in a surreal light. The air hummed with distant drips and the faint rustle of unseen things watching from the shadows. I let us push maybe fifty paces before I halted. “Hold! I smell minotaurs.”

I didn't.

But I was extremely familiar with their patrol patterns.

On my command the girls moved swiftly into position, forming a loose star pattern around the patrol route. Lae’zel, Kagha, and Karlach took the three furthest points, spreading out ahead and to the sides. Lae’zel melted into cover behind a cluster of glowing fungi on the left. Kagha slipped silently into the shadows on the right, her Sanguine Blade yearning for blood. Karlach took the forward point, battleaxe resting on her shoulder, her engine pulsing eager and hot.

Shadowheart and I stayed at the two rear points, slightly behind and centered. She positioned herself four paces back on my left, hands already glowing with fire. I remained at the very back, the focal point of the trap.

Everyone was ready.

We waited. Twenty seconds crawled by, the creak of the elevator far above now just memory. Then it appeared—a hulking minotaur, horns curving like scythes, massive frame sniffing the air. It looked around, bovine eyes narrowed, and lumbered our way. It moved steadily closer, axe dragging sparks along the stone, until it was right in the middle between us, blind to our positioning.

I felt the eldritch power crackle at my fingertips before my voice cut sharp through the darkness.

“Attack!”