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Sure enough, a duergar dressed in robes and wearing several totems and other magical trinkets stepped through the glowing doorway. One of the duergar addressed him—Pharaun couldn't hear what was being said—and pointed to the webs. The shaman nodded and began to cast.

"Do it," Pharaun said.

Q'arlynd went into action, letting loose with his spell, aiming it directly at the shaman. It was a direct hit, and that entire side of the street was engulfed in a white-hot ball of fire that blossomed outward and vaporized an instant later. Charred and burning gray dwarves lay everywhere. A few moved, having survived, but they were few and far between. Most importantly, the dimensional pathway had been banished, winking out when the shaman who created it died.

The two wizards settled back to the ground again, noting that Q'arlynd's fiery ball of magic had ignited the webs, which were quickly burning away. Already, though, another gateway was forming, this one at the opposite end of the street. The battle priestess rallied her troops to deal with the new threat.

"You know you only delayed the inevitable," Quenthel said as Pharaun and Q'arlynd returned. "We're wasting time, here. We have to get out of the city."

"I know," the Master of Sorcere replied, "but it was fun."

"Look!" Danifae shouted, pointing toward the new gateway.

Duergar were streaming out, and drow were arriving from above and below, levitating from the web streets on the two adjacent levels.

"It's House Zauvirr troops," the battle captive explained. "They've got us pinned."

"Fall back," the battle priestess commanded, turning to point back the way the duergar had come, but as she began to direct her soldiers, she took a crossbow bolt in the ear. The missile passed through and protruded from the other side of her head, and she was already dead, motionless, as she fell to the pavement.

"We're surrounded!" Q'arlynd cried out. "Stand and fight!"

He produced a wand and waved it, conjuring a sudden and violent tempest of ice fragments the size of Pharaun's head. The chunks of ice pelted down on the front ranks of gray dwarves, beating them down and slicing them to ribbons amid cries of anguish.

In reply, the duergar began throwing more of the firepots into the ever-tightening mass of House Maerret drow, who were bunched together and made easy targets. More and more of the gray dwarves appeared, forming ranks, establishing a shield wall in front so that the back ranks would have protection as they fired crossbows and hurled firepots and spells.

Pharaun had no idea where any of his companions were. Everyone had been scattered in the initial panic of the attack. He had no concerns that they couldn't take care of themselves, at least for the moment, but the longer they remained there, the less their chances became of escaping at all. He spun in place, looking for a sign of any of them in the thickening smoke, when a creature materialized in front of the wizard, its back to him.

Pharaun's ability to note magical emanations made it clear to him that this creature had been summoned from somewhere, most likely the lower planes. It was a huge thing, vaguely humanoid, covered with white fur and possessed of four arms. It had a sloping brow and a flattened nose, but the most terrifying aspect was its gaping mouth and fangs. The beast spun around, roaring in rage, and spotted the wizard. Its red eyes glittered in delight as it lunged forward, claws outstretched, ready to rend the Master of Sorcere.

Pharaun fumbled to free his rapier, but the fiendish creature was on him too fast, and he took a painful slash across the shoulder that knocked him sideways several feet. The wizard stumbled to the ground as the thing bounded forward again, pounding its chest with all four fists and roaring a challenge.

Goddess, Pharaun thought in a panic, scrambling backward and trying to activate his rapier.

From one side, a flash of movement caught the mage's eye, and Valas darted in behind the beast, raking both kukris along its hamstrings. The beast roared in pain but amazingly, it spun around before Valas could blend into the surroundings, slashing at the diminutive scout with outstretched claws.

Pharaun heard the other drow grunt and watched him go sprawling from the force of the blow, but it bought him the time he needed to get his rapier free. He mentally commanded the thin blade to attack, and when it jabbed at the beast, which was looming over Valas, the creature snarled and spun back to see what had hurt it. Valas scrambled to his feet and faded from sight.

The fiendish thing growled and roared, swiping at the dancing rapier, but the blade was too quick, darting and weaving and getting several pokes in. Already, the white fur of the monster was tainted red from multiple wounds. This only seemed to be enraging the beast further, and Pharaun had to suppress a grin.

With the blade now protecting him from attack, the wizard could cast a spell. He gestured and uttered a few syllables, and instantly, he was surrounded by more than half a dozen exact duplicates of himself that flickered and spun about.

At the same time, a clay pot shattered right at the feet of the summoned creature, engulfing it in flames. It screamed in pain and flailed about, and Pharaun was forced to back a few steps to avoid it as it went running to escape its torment. Blinded by fire and pain, the fiendish creature charged over the side of the web street, vanishing into the void below.

Pharaun turned to assay the battle, his rapier still bobbing and weaving, waiting for a target, and the wizard nearly got his head taken off by a series of whirling blades. This spell he knew well enough, for it was a favorite of the priestesses, but he doubted that any of the drow had cast it. Two of the spinning blades tore through his piwafwi, nipping at his arm and creating quick, thin lines of blood. Instinctively, he dropped to the ground, avoiding the full brunt of the spell, though several of his duplicates vanished after being struck. The mage rolled out from beneath the spinning range of the spell and regained his feet.

Quenthel was nearby, a wand in one hand and her whip in the other. She was slashing at a duergar with her whip, and at the same time, Pharaun noted, she was directing a glowing, floating apparition of a hammer about with the wand. She swiped at the gray dwarf with her whip, and as he backed up to avoid the attack, she brought the hammer in from behind, slamming it into the back of his skull. The duergar jerked once, his eyes rolled up into his head, and he crumpled to the ground.

Ryld maneuvered into view, swinging Splitter all around himself. Pharaun could see that the Master of Melee-Magthere was engaged with three drow, and the way they were handling their own weapons, it appeared that Ryld had matched up with fellow weapons masters. The three opponents stalked around him, feinting and jabbing, trying to get the warrior to over-commit on defense, but Ryld maintained his position, flowing from one stance to the next. Pharaun could see that, despite the exhaustion that was apparent in Ryld's heavy breathing, there was also a gleam in the weapons master's eye. It was taking every ounce of concentration Ryld had, but he actually seemed to be enjoying the challenge.

Black, waving tentacles appeared among Ryld and his three adversaries, and Pharaun watched as two of the writhing appendages latched on to the Master of Melee-Magthere, while several more slithered around the legs and ankles of his foes. All four of the combatants were trapped, and yet none of them was willing to lower his guard in order to try to free himself.

Reacting quickly, Pharaun yanked his wand free of his piwafwi and triggered it, sending five screaming points of light into the first of the two tentacles that held Ryld down. The tentacle spasmed and vanished. With a quick spin of his greatsword, Ryld cut through the second black, shiny appendage, then leaped into the air as more of the writhing things reached for him. He levitated upward, out of range of the three weapons masters, who were struggling to free themselves. Before they could, though, a handful of duergar closed in, firing crossbows at the helpless drow, and the dark elves went down quickly.

Pharaun could see that House Maerret's position had been completely overrun. Duergar had closed in on one side, and drow on the other. The fight was simply a mad, whirling jumble of perhaps three dozen combatants fighting for their lives. What few remaining forces of House Maerret still survived were dropping quickly. Opponents closed in from all sides, and soon enough, Pharaun was reunited with his companions as the circle that surrounded them drew tighter and tighter.

"We're out of time," Quenthel said, still swinging her whip and directing magical hammers at her foes. "Do something now, wizard!"

"You!" came an angry shout from behind Pharaun. He turned to see who was making the commotion, and standing there, facing Quenthel, was Ssipriina Zauvirr, glaring at all of them. "You are the reason for all of this!" she screamed, raising her mace and pointing at them. "You should never have come to Ched Nasad!"

"Zauvirr!" came a second angry shout, a much more gruff voice, from the other side. Pharaun turned back the way he had originally been watching and spotted a large, well-armored duergar, one obviously of rank. "Foolish drow, I will see you dead!" the gray dwarf called.

"Betrayer!" Ssipriina spat back. "I should have known better than to trust you, Khorrl Xornbane. You can die with the meddlers. Kill them," she cried to her few remaining soldiers, who were massing in a line. "Kill them all!"

"Death to all drow!" Khorrl Xornbane roared, and motioned his handful of troops forward.

Pharaun's shoulders sagged.

We're never going to get out of here, he thought, swinging his magical rapier around.

***

Thick black smoke from the burning stone was blinding Ryld, making it hard to see more than a few feet in any direction. The battlefield had suddenly grown quiet. There were no more explosions, no flashing bursts from the firepots. Only the sound of steel on steel, but even that was greatly diminished.

He stepped forward to meet an onrushing contingent of gray dwarves. To his left, Halisstra also entered the fray, her heavy mace and an impressive mithral shield held ready. Quenthel took up a position on the warrior's other side, swinging her whip back and forth experimentally as she advanced.

The duergar, dozens of them, fanned out to meet the eclectic group, bloodlust plain in their eyes. Two came directly at Ryld, battle-axes held high. The weapons master parried the first swing at his shoulder and sidestepped a cut to the knees from his second foe. He brought the greatsword down atop the axe, snapping the haft cleanly, but then had to shift his weight almost off-balance to avoid a punching dagger to the ribs. Spinning, he kicked out with one booted foot, catching the gray dwarf square on the wrist and sending the dagger flying.

A third duergar loomed up behind Ryld, holding a length of chain that he spun in a circle over his head. Ryld saw that the foe was eyeing his legs, so when the attack came, he managed to leap high enough that the metal links missed him and went skittering across the pavement. In mid-leap, Ryld managed to turn completely around, flicking his blade across the head of the first gray dwarf's axe, unable to knock it completely loose, but nonetheless managing to force the combatant off-balance. As he landed, Ryld swung Splitter back around again, swiping at the chain-wielder's throat. The duergar jerked back from the attack, reeling in his chain for another attempt then stiffened in pain as the head of Danifae's morning star came down squarely on his skull in an enchanted shower of sparks. The creature slumped over as Danifae spun away to attack another foe.

Ryld maneuvered back around to face his original foe, who had regained his balance and had bis axe level again. His companion, holding his injured wrist limply at his side, had fumbled a smaller hand axe free and was circling around Ryld, still trying to maneuver behind the weapons master. Ryld stepped back as though he were trying to avoid being surrounded, even as he casually blocked a couple of strokes from the battle-axe. Finally, when he saw the gray dwarf rear back for another, even more powerful cut, he planted his toe inside the coils of chain that the downed duergar had been swinging and flipped it up with his leg. As the chain sprayed out, it caught the humanoid squarely in the face. The duergar flinched, ruining his attack.

The Master of Melee-Magthere saw the hand axe coming toward his shoulder and twisted himself so that the blade just missed him then flicked Splitter back and up, slicing cleanly through the gray dwarf's arm at the elbow. Howling in agony, the duergar stumbled away, letting the momentum of the blow bear him out of harm's way. Ryld let the sword swing spin him completely around so that he planted his feet facing once more in the direction of the original enemy, who had disentangled himself from the chain and had flung it away.

Ryld shifted his greatsword a couple times, circling with the gray dwarf, the two of them warily sizing one another up. The weapons master stepped into a handful of slices and thrusts, flinging halfhearted attacks toward the dwarf that never really threatened it but allowed Ryld to see just how eager his opponent was to engage with him. The gray dwarf shied away from every cut and parry, and the Master of Melee-Magthere knew the duergar would break off the fight soon, assuming its companions dwindled to sufficiently small numbers around it.

Ryld stepped into an attack again, keeping his blade low and squarely in front of him, and the duergar trod backward another step. Then, as if out of nowhere, Valas appeared from the shadows, swinging one of his kukris low across the gray dwarf's hamstring. The duer-gar's knee buckled, and the scout came over the top with his other blade, stabbing it into the creature's chest. The duergar made a gurgling sound as he shivered and fell over.

The Master of Melee-Magthere shifted his attention elsewhere as soon as he saw the threat eliminated. He spied Jeggred ripping a drow to shreds. Only two others were visible, looking for a way to get inside the draegloth's reach, but Ryld doubted that would be the case for long. Another dark elf was fighting to keep Pharaun's rapier away from him, but Quenthel was closing on his flank, and the high priestess lashed out with her scourge, allowing the snake heads to sink their teeth deeply into the creature's neck. Jerking from the sudden sting of the bites, the drow was unable to maintain his attention on the rapier, which ran through his eye.