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exotic sweetly scented fruits-which had become a fashionable
indulgence to the Underdark's wealthy-added piquant notes of fragrance to
the damp air.
To Xandra, the strangest thing about this marketplace was the apparent truce
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that existed among the various warring races who did business here. Mingling
among the stalls and passing each other peaceably on the streets were the
stone-colored deep gnomes known as svirfneblin, the deep-dwelling,
dark-hearted duergar, a few unsavory merchants from the surface worlds, and,
of course, the drow. At the four corners of the cavern, vast warehouses
had been excavated to provide storage as well as separate housing for
the four factions: svirfneblin, drow, duergar, and surface dwellers. Xandra's
path took her toward the surface-dweller cavern.
The sound of rushing water intensified as Xandra neared her goal, for the
corner of the marketplace that sold goods from the Lands of Light was located
near the largest waterfall. The air was especially damp here, and the stalls
and tables were draped with canvas to keep out the pervasive mist.
Moisture pooled on the rocky floor of the grotto and dampened the wools and
furs worn by the surface dwellers who clustered here-a motley collection
of ores, ogres, humans, and various combinations thereof.
Xandra grimaced and pulled the folds of her cloak over the lower half of her
face to ward off the fetid odor. She scanned the bustling, smelly crowd for
the man who fit the description she'd been given.
Apparently finding a drow female in such a crowd was a simpler task than
singling out one human, from the depths of one long tentlike structure came a
low, melodious voice, calling the wizard properly by her name and title.
Xandra turned toward the sound, startled to hear a drow voice in such a
sordid setting.
But the small, stooped figure that hobbled toward her was that of a human
male.
The man was old by the measure of humankind, with white hair, a dark and
weathered face, and a slow, faltering tread. He had not gone unscathed by his
years- a cane aided his faltering steps, and a dark patch covered his left
eye. These infirmities did not seem to have dimmed the man's pride or hampered
his success, he displayed ample evidence of both.
The cane was carved from lustrous wood and ornamented with gems and gilding.
Over a silvered tunic of fine silk, he wore a cape embroidered with gold
thread and fastened with a diamond neck clasp.
Gems the size of laplizard eggs glittered on his fingers and at his throat.
His smile was both welcoming and confident- that of a male who possessed much
and was well satisfied with his own measure.
"Hadrogh Prohl?" Xandra inquired.
The merchant bowed. "At your service, Mistress Shobalar," he said in fluent
but badly accented
Drowish.
"You know of me. Then you must also have some idea what I need."
"But of course, Mistress, and I will be pleased to assist you in whatever way
I can. The presence of so noble a lady honors this establishment. Please, step
this way," he said, moving aside so that she could enter the canvas pavilion.
Hadrogh's words were correct, his manner proper almost to the point of being
obsequious-which was, of course, the prudent approach to take when
dealing with drow females of stature. Even so, something about the
merchant struck Xandra as not quite right. To all appearances, he
seemed at ease-friendly, relaxed to the point of being casual, even
unobservant. In other words, a naive and utter fool. How such a man had
survived so long in the tunnels of the Underdark was a mystery to
the
Shobalar wizard. And yet, she noted that Hadrogh, unlike most humans, did not
require the punishing light of torches and lanterns.
His tent was comfortably dark, but he had no apparent difficulty negotiating
his way through the maze of crates and tables that held his wares.
A curious Xandra whispered the words to a simple spell, one that would yield
some answers about the man's nature and the magic he might carry. She was not
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entirely surprised when the seeking magic skittered off the merchant, either
he was astute enough to carry something that deflected magical inquiry, or he
possessed an innate magical immunity that nearly matched her own.
Xandra had her suspicions about the merchant's origins, suspicions that were
too appalling to voice, but she did not doubt that this "human" was quite at
home in the Underdark, and quite capable of taking care of himself, despite
his fragile, aged facade.
The half-drow merchant-for Xandra's suspicions were indeed correct-appeared to
be unaware of the female's scrutiny. He led the way to the very back of the
canvas pavilion. Here stood a row of large cages, each with a single occupant.
Hadrogh swept a hand toward them, and then stepped back so that
Xandra could examine the merchandise as she would.
The wizard walked slowly along the row of cages, examining the
exotic creatures who were destined for slavery. There were no
shortage of slaves to be had in the Underdark, but the
status-conscious dark elves were ever eager to acquire new and unusual
possessions, and there was a high demand for servants brought from the Lands
of Light. Halfling females were prized as ladies' maids for their deft hands
and their skill at weaving, curling, and twisting hair into
elaborate works of art.
Mountain dwarves, who possessed a finer touch with weapons and jewels than
their duergar kin, were
considered hard to manage but well worth the trouble it took to keep them.
Humans were useful as beasts of burden and as sources of spells and potions
unknown Below. Exotic beasts were popular, too.
A few of the more ostentatious drow kept them as pets or displayed them in
small private zoos. Some of these animals found their way to the arena in the
Manyfolks district of Menzoberranzan. There, drow who possessed a taste for
vicarious slaughter gathered to watch and wager while dangerous
beasts fought each other, slaves of various races, and even drow-soldiers
eager to prove their battle prowess or mercenaries who coveted the handful of
coins and the fleeting fame that were the survivors' reward.
Hadrogh could supply slaves or beasts to meet almost any taste. Xandra nodded
with satisfaction as she eyed the collection, indeed, she had been
well served by the informant who'd sent her to this half-breed
merchant.
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