war of the spider queen 3 condemnation-第3部分

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p　into　unseen　caverns　above。　Though　its　turrets　and　spires　leaned　boldly　out　over　a　horrifying　precipice；　the　place　did　not　seem　frail　or　precarious　in　any　sense。　Its　massive　pier　of　rock　was　one　of　the　bones　of　the　world；　a　thick　spar　rooted　so　securely　in　the　chasm　wall　that　nothing　short　of　the　unmaking　of　Toril　would　tear　it　loose。
　　　Those　few　scholars　who　remembered　the　place　knew　it　as　Chaulssin；　the　City　of　Wyrmshadows；　and　even　most　of　them　forgot　why　the　city　was　called　that。　In　the　lightless　fortress　on　the　edge　of　an　abyss；　the　shadows　themselves　lived。　Inky　pools　of　midnight　blacker　than　a　drow's　heart　curled　and　flowed　from　tower　to　tower。　Whispering　darkness　slithered　like　a　gigantic；　hungering　dragon　in　and　about　the　needle…like　spires　and　the　open…sided　galleries　of　the　dead　city。　From　time　to　time　the　living　shadows　swallowed　portions　of　the　city　for　centuries；　drawing　a　palace　or　a　temple　deep　into　a　cold　place　beyond　the　circles　of　the　world。
　　　Nimor　Imphraezl　climbed　deliberately　through　Chaulssin's　deserted　galleries；　seemingly　oblivious　to　the　living　black　curtains　that　danced　and　writhed　in　the　city's　dark　places。　The　maddening　howl　of　the　endless　hurricane　rising　up　past　the　city　walls　ripped　at　his　cloak　and　sent　his　long　silver　hair　streaming　from　his　head；　but　he　paid　it　no　mind。　This　was　his　place；　his　refuge；　and　its　perils　and　madness　simply　familiar　features　undeserving　of　his　attention。　Nimor　wore　the　shape　of　a　slim；　almost　boyish　dark　elf；　which　was　to　say　that　he　was　short　of　stature　and　slender　as　a　reed。　The　top　of　his　head　would　barely　reach　the　nose　of　a　typical　female；　and　any　female　with　a　little　height　to　her　would　tower　over　him　head　and　shoulders。
　　　Despite　his　graceful　build；　Nimor　virtually　radiated　power。　His　small　frame　seemed　to　burst　with　a　precise　strength　and　lethal　quickness　far　out　of　proportion　to　his　body。　His　face　was　narrow　but　handsome；　almost　beautiful；　and　he　carried　himself　with　the　supreme　arrogance　of　a　noble…born　drow　who　feared　nothing　in　his　path。　It　was　a　part　he　played　well；　being　a　drow　of　a　high　House；　a　prince　of　his　ruined　city。　If　he　was　something　else；　something　more；　well　。　。　。　those　few　dark　elves　who　lived　there　with　him　were　much　the　same。
　　　Nimor　reached　the　end　of　the　gallery　and　turned　inward；　climbing　up　a　grand　stairway　cut　through　the　heart　of　the　monolithic　spur　to　which　Chaulssin　clung。　The　cacophony　of　the　winds　outside　faded　quickly　to　a　distant　but　deep　whispering；　sibilant　and　penetrating。　There　was　no　place　one　could　go　within　Chaulssin　to　escape　the　sound。　He　set　his　hand　on　the　hilt　of　his　rapier　and　followed　the　spiraling　black　steps　up　into　a　great　dark　chamber；　a　vaulted　cathedral　of　shadows　in　the　heart　of　the　city。　Flickering　torches　of　everburning　fire　in　bronze　sconces　cast　faint；　ruddy　pools　of　light　along　the　ribbed　walls；　streaks　of　red　that　faded　into　the　blackness　of　the　vault　overhead。　Up　there　the　shadows　were　close　indeed；　a　roiling　well　of　blackness　that　even　Nimor's　eyes　could　not　penetrate。
　　　〃Nimor。　You　are　late。〃
　　　Standing　in　a　circle　in　the　center　of　the　room；　the　seven　Patron　Fathers　of　the　Jaezred　Chaulssin　turned　as　one　to　watch　Nimor　approach。　On　the　far　side　of　the　circle　stood　Patron　Grandfather　Mauzzkyl；　a　hale　old　dark　elf　with　broad　shoulders　and　a　deep　chest；　his　hair　thinning　to　a　sharp　widow's　peak。
　　　〃The　Patron　Fathers　do　not　wait　on　the　pleasure　of　the　Anointed　Blade　of　the　Jaezred　Chaulssin；〃　Mauzzkyl　said。
　　　〃Revered　Grandfather；　my　delay　was　unavoidable；〃　Nimor　replied。
　　　He　joined　the　circle　in　the　place　that　had　been　left　for　him；　offering　no　obeisance　and　expecting　none　from　the　others。　As　the　Anointed　Blade　he　answered　only　to　the　Patron　Grandfather；　and　in　fact　stood　higher　among　the　Jaezred　Chaulssin　than　any　of　the　Patron　Fathers　except　Mauzzkyl。
　　　〃I　am　lately　e　from　Menzoberranzan；〃　he　added；　〃and　tarried　as　long　as　I　could　to　observe　events　before　departing。〃
　　　〃How　stand　matters　there？〃　asked　Patron　Father　Tomphael。　He　was　slender　and　rakish；　much　like　Nimor　in　appearance；　but　he　preferred　the　robes　of　a　wizard　to　the　mail　of　a　fighter；　and　he　possessed　a　streak　of　caution　that　sometimes　verged　on　cowardice。　〃How　does　our　revolt　fare？〃
　　　〃Not　as　well　as　I　might　like；　but　about　as　well　as　I　expected；〃　admitted　Nimor。　Tomphael's　divinations　had　no　doubt　revealed　that　much。　Did　the　Patron　Father　hope　to　catch　the　Anointed　Blade　concealing　a　failure？　Nimor　almost　smiled　at　the　simplicity　of　it。　〃The　slaves　were　crushed　easily　enough。　Gromph　Baenre　took　an　interest　in　things；　and　his　agents　seem　to　have　destroyed　or　driven　off　our　illithilich　friend。　On　the　positive　side；　we　did　expose　something　of　the　spider…kissers'　weakness　to　the　mon　Menzoberranyr；　which　is　promising；　and　the　priestesses　obliged　us　by　using　a　significant　amount　of　their　hoarded　magic　to　destroy　their　own　rebellious　slaves。　The　city　is　weakened　thereby。〃
　　　〃You　might　have　taken　a　more　direct　hand　in　the　affair；〃　said　Patron　Xorthaul；　who　wore　the　black　mail　of　a　priest。　〃If　you　had　slain　the　archmage's　lackeys…〃
　　　〃The　revolt　we　sponsored　still　would　have　been　crushed；　and　I　would　have　put　them　on　their　guard　too　soon；〃　Nimor　interrupted。　〃Remember；　Patron　Xorthaul；　this　was　never　intended　to　be　anything　other　than　a　simple　feint；　easily　deflected；　by　which　we　might　assay　the　real　strength　of　the　matron　mothers　of　Menzoberranzan。　The　next　blow　will　be　the　one　that　beats　down　their　guard　and　slices　deep　into　flesh。〃　He　decided　to　turn　the　topic　and　set　someone　else　on　the　defensive。　〃As　I　am　the　last　to　arrive；　I　have　no　news　of　how　affairs　proceed　in　the　other　cities。　What　of　Eryndlyn？　Or　Ched　Nasad？〃
　　　Cold　smiles　twisted　cruel　faces。　Nimor　blinked。　It　wasn't　often　that　the　patron　fathers　encountered　an　event　in　which　they　could　collectively　take　pleasure。　Grandfather　Mauzzkyl　himself　broke　the　news。
　　　〃Eryndlyn　proceeds　much　as　we　expected…Patron　Father　Tomphael　brought　tidings　not　dissimilar　to　your　own…but　Ched　Nasad。　。　。　。　From　Ched　Nasad；　Patron　Father　Zammzt　returns　in　triumph。〃
　　　〃Really？〃　drawled　Nimor；　impressed　despite　himself。
　　　He　restrained　a　hot　flash　of　jealousy　and　turned　to　face　Zammzt；　a　dark　elf　of　such　unremarkable　appearance　he　might　have　been　a　lowly　armorer　or　swordsmith；　a　mon　artisan　barely　a　step　above　a　slave。　Zammzt　merely　folded　his　arms　across　his　chest　and　inclined　his　head　in　recognition　of　Grandfather　Mauzzkyl's　remark。
　　　〃What　happened？〃　asked　Nimor。　〃Ched　Nasad　should　not　have　fallen　so　easily。〃
　　　〃As　it　happened；　Anointed　Blade；　the　stonefire　bombs　your　duergar　allies　provided　us　had　a　devastating　effect　on　the　calcified　webs　upon　which　Ched　Nasad　was　built；〃　Zammzt　said；　doubtless　feigning　his　humility。　〃Just　as　flame　consumes　a　cobweb；　the　stonefire　devoured　the　very　structure　of　the　city。　With　their　castles　and　their　palaces　plummeting　to　the　bottom　of　the　cavern　like　burning　sparks　of　paper；　the　Ched　Nasadans　could　organize　no　real　defense　at　all。　No　strong　point　of　any　significance　survived　the　fires；　and　few　of　the　House　armies　escaped　from　the　conflagrations　to　contest　the　cavern。〃
　　　〃What　is　left　of　the　city？〃
　　　〃Very　little；　I'm　afraid。　A　few　isolated　districts　and　outlying　structures　relegated　to　side　caverns　survived　the　fire。　Of　the　city's　people；　I　would　guess　that　half　perished　in　the　fall　and　roughly　one…third　fled　into　the　outer　tunnels；　where　they　will　doubtless　e　to　a　variety　of　bad　ends。　Most　of　the　survivors　belong　to　those　minor　Houses　allied　with　us；　or　minor　Houses　who　were　quick　to　appreciate　the　new　order　of　things　in　the　city。〃
　　　Nimor　stroked　his　chin　and　said；　〃So；　from　a　city　of　twenty　thousand；　only　three　thousand　remain？〃
　　　〃A　little　less；　after　the　slaves　fled　the　city；〃　Zammzt　replied；　allowing　himself　a　fierce　grin。　〃Of　the　spider…kissing　females；　nothing　remains。〃
　　　〃Likely　some　number　of　Lolth　priestesses　escaped　with　those　who　fled　into　the　Underdark；〃　Nimor　mused。　〃They　won't　all　die　in　the　tunnels。　Still；　that　is　great　news；　Patron　Father。　We　have　freed　our　first　city　from　Lolth's　dominion。　Others　are　sure　to　follow。〃
　　　Patro