By thought alone, Nezznar the Black Spider watched the City come into view. That’s how it worked within the Shadowfell: mere thought could move a traveler from one place to another in a matter of moments.
He watched at the city approached him, or perhaps he approached it, a huge shard of rock floating in midair. Lacc had no city wall, it needed none. His eyes focused on the huge tower of black stone. He knew this to be the Nightspire, Lolth’s stronghold in Lacc. It was set apart from the rest of the city. The thing was taller than any man-made structure that the Drow had ever seen, and its surface was decorated with terrifying effigies too small to be recognized from this distance.
“This is the Grand City, gentlemen,” he said to the black-clad Dragon Cult assassins who accompanied him. “My Dark Queen awaits our arrival.”
The assassin’s glanced at each other, and then to The Black Spider. It was clear that they were in awe of the city in front of them. After all, Lacc had destroyed the suns of seven different worlds. Foo, however, seemed unimpressed.
Foo kicked his pony into a trot. “Let’s go inside,” the monk bodyguard mumbled. “I tire of this place.” The others followed, their warhorses picking up dust on the blasted, cracked plains of the Shadowfell.
The Drow called forward to his monk bodyguard. “If you like, Foo, we could go into the city so you can meet with the Soul Spiders and partake of their temple. You may find that their temple is not so foreboding as described by other Orders.”
Foo said nothing. He simply scowled at Nezznar.
“Very well,” sighed the Drow. “We shall go directly to the Lift. From there we will make an offering to the Queen of Spiders, and then enter the -“
Foo laughed, cutting Nezznar off mid-sentence. “Look,” he said, pointing ahead. “I think that you will not have to go by way of the Lift after all.”
They approached a centaur-like creature who appeared from thin air some sixty feet away from them. Appearing as Drow from the waist up, with their lower portions replaced by the abdomen and legs of immense spiders, the creature was easily recognizable as a Drider. A small collection of dust, rocks, leaves, twigs, and other small items swirled around the creature’s feet, and a faint blue seemed to follow behind it. As the riders drew closer, they could see that the Drider was using some kind of odd device akin to a Priestess’s Floating Disc.
“Hello,” growled the Drider in as monstrous tone. “My mistress sends her greetings.” He extended his left hand, making a traditional Drow sign of greeting. “We must go now, as the battle has already begun.”
Nezznar glanced at Foo, for a moment, then back at the Drider. “Already the battle is joined?”
The Drider growled again. “The Battle of Darkness and Light is under way, Lord Nezznar. Do you wish to keep my Mistress waiting?”
And with that, The Black Spider and his men entered the City of Lacc.
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