Damned Pixies.

[Clan Blindhammer]

The barge lurched one last time as it shuddered against the current of the dark Gloom River. The Eelmaster called for the next load to climb on, and Artikerus barely made the short leap to the dock before the great eels pulling the barge lurched back into the darkness.

Artikerus turned around quickly and flipped the Eelmaster off. This far out in the Underdark, even a King couldn't receive half of the treatment expected for him, and most of the time, Artikerus could care less.

This was the beginning of the wilds - where the abandoned tunnels of mines had been stripped bare years ago, and slowly, the wilds of the Underdark had begun to creep back in.

A few Bukbukken miners bowed hastily to the King, and Artikerus dismissed them, barely even noticing their hard stares and grimaces. Being King of the Duergar hardly ever won you any popularity contests, that was a given. Artikerus skulked slowly towards the back of the cave, where deeper into the Underdark the bottom gates of Dobluth K'yor, the Drow city of Mir, waited for him.

A lone Drow watched openly from his perch on an overturned crate, a small pouch of glowing moss at his waist. The Drow knew who the Duergar was, and had heard, even this far from his own borders, rumors of what the Duergar had done.

Rumors. An assassination attempt aimed at the High Priest of Vhaeraun himself.

Artikerus grunted and passed the Drow, brazenly ignoring the merchant as he strode by. The Drow began to imagine how easily he could kill this "King". Any number of magical blades - throwing daggers, darts - or even a single, whispered incantation to hurl a silent spell of destruction would end whatever rumored threat this one posed to the city of Dobluth K'yor. The Drow went so far as to stand up before noticing the Duergar had stopped.

Artikerus turned around slowly and looked at a single stalagtite hanging almost directly overhead of the Drow. He shifted his cloak, exposing a tremendous hammer, belted loosely at his side. Artikerus grinned wickedly.

"Careful what ye be plannin', Pixie. Accidents do be happenin' - an' even the wilds o' the Underdark can be claimin' many a veteran's life down in these tunnels." With those menacing words, Artikerus turned around and began his descent down the tunnel towards Dobluth K'yor.

The Drow gulped - a rather odd sound echoing off the silent walls of the Underdark. Mind reading? The tales of the number of evil surprises laid to hand by this Duergar were all to truthful. He glanced upwards at the large stalagtite still overhead, and rather hastily pulled his crate to the other side of the cavern. He grumbled incoherently and sat down again.
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Artikerus muttered and grumbled as he normally did, thinking quietly to himself and then answering his own questions and musings aloud. The Drow of Mir all looked sideways at him now, moreso than often. He did not fear them - it would take more than even the Underdark had been able to offer to kill the Duergar King. Even he had been unable to willingly throw himself at Death's door, when he had adventured as far down as possible into the bowels of the unforgiving Underdark.

"More'n a group o' damn black pixies runnin' aroun' with bread knives, inspired by the damned Tool o' Vhaeraun." Artikerus grumbled.

He passed the final few bends and began to go up the slope towards the bottom gates of Dobluth K'yor. The Drow guards all recognized him, some staring at him almost challengingly as he approached the gates. Artikerus ignored them and made his way through the Temple to the northern Fountain.

"Let 'em bloody well try." Artikerus growled. He glared openly at the passing Drow, watching one in particular trying to move unnoticed through the crowd, away from him.

"Let the bloody Tool try an' see if I don't break the bugger an' leave pieces o' him in e'ery ditch I find from 'ere til' Baulders Gate."