MENZOBERRANZAN
I eventually got away from the place, but not before I
had learned more about Menzoberranzan than any
sane person would care to know. Although the life of
a slave can be brutally short in the City of Spiders, the
draw aren't so extravagant that they do away with every
captive they take. At the same time, they are masters
of punishment-it is fear of pain, not fear of death, that
motivates the slaves of draw. If you're lucky, you'll only
feel normal shackles and the occasional whip or light
spell-blast. A bit less luck or more malice, and the ser-
pent-headed whips of the priestesses come out.
If you aren't a draw in the City of Spiders, you aren't
worth a name. All manner of surface-dwellers-ores and
elves, humans and halflings-are brought here to serve
as slaves to the draw in their refuge. The constant fear
of punishment, from one's mistress or another, more
powerful draw, keeps most slaves obedient, even when
they aren't directly supervised.
The great cavern of the city is filled with tall spires,
and homes both great and small are carved into the sta-
lagmites and stalactites that pierce the darkness. Gentle
illumination from magic or glowing fungus decorates
some homes and businesses, as well as the mansions of
the high houses of the city, eight of which have positioned
themselves above all others. While the lesser houses
dance and fight and scheme for advantages over each
other, they all live under the heel of House Baenre and
the Matron Mother, who rules the city in Lolth's name.
On a large plateau high above the cavern floor is Tier
Breche, also called the Academy, where the city trains
its priestesses, mages, and noble warriors. The city's
market is centrally located, and rothe are raised on an
isle toward the eastern edge of the city.
If you are ever so unfortunate as to be enslaved by the
draw of Menzoberranzan, my advice to you is simple
and stern: do as you are commanded, avoid insulting
their goddess (which means don't even brush off a
spider crawling on you), and attempt escape only if you
are desperate or sure of your survival. If you are given
the proper opportunity, as I was, you might discover that
the neck of a draw snaps with surprising ease.
ESCAPE
One day, well after I had lost count of how many days
I'd been a captive, I was in a small outlying cavern with
a few other slaves harvesting a mushroom patch. I was
given leave to answer nature's call away from the mush-
rooms, and I lingered long enough in a side tunnel to
force my watcher to come and find me. I took the first
lash he offered me with his whip, then grabbed the
weapon and pulled the skinny fool toward me before he
could sound an alarm or get his blade out. It took me
but a second to get both hands around his throat. When
he lay dead at my feet, I took his sword and ran as fast
and far as I could. I knew the gnomish city of Blingden-
stone was nearby, and I came upon it eventually, but the
journey took days as I wound through convoluted pas-
sageways and tried to avoid notice.
BLINGDENSTONE
My initial joy at reaching Blingdenstone was quickly tem-
pered. The deep gnomes don't seem to like visitors they
can't recognize or identify, and being a half-ore didn't help
matters in the least for me. After dodging arrows loosed
from the high walls of the city, I gave up on going through
the gate and snuck in through a small cart tunnel, empty-
ing out part of a load of ore to make room for myself.
I managed to avoid conflict with the guards that dis-
covered me in the cart. When they ordered me to stand,
I did so with my weapon held at my side, and I turned to
display my back to them. When they saw that it was cov-
ered in lashes and the scars of the priestesses' fanged
whips, and they realized that my blade was of draw man-
ufacture (though I clearly was not), they were willing to
believe my story.
Though the gnomes kept me under watch, I was allowed
to regain my strength for a few days, and I saw a bit of
their community in the meantime. Once I was inside the
city, I could tell that it's not much of a city at all. The svir-
fneblin all live in close contact with one another, and this
togetherness can be disconcerting, especially for someone
accustomed to small luxuries like shutters on windows
and doors on privies. The homes are all smoothed-over
natural stone, with little evidence of hard corners.
Each industry has a portion of the city to itself: trad-
ing, smithing, mining, and the growing of a special
fungus crop. Still many of the old tunnels and caverns
remain unclaimed and sealed off, whether to guard
against invasion or perhaps because of what now dwells
there, I don't know.
If you're welcomed long enough to the city, you can
trade for fine goods and armor here; the gnomes'
chain mail and mining picks seem most worth acquir-
ing. Before sending me on my way, the gnomes were
kind enough to give me a pick, a dagger, and some of
their trillimac, an odd fungus that can be made into
something like bread. It's a bit spongy, but it doesn't
spoil quickly, and it got me to the surface before I
starved to death.The Cavern of Menzoberranzan
Menzoberranzan fills a large vault that was formerly a
lair of giant spiders and beholders. The vault is known by
its dwarven name, Araurilcaurak ("Great Pillar Cavern"),
because of Narbondel, the giant rock pillar at the vault's
center that joins floor and ceiling. The cavern is roughly
shaped like an arrowhead, with the pool of Donigarten at
its tip, and stretching two miles across at its widest point.
The ceiling rises a thousand feet high, and the floor is
studded with stalagmites.
Two areas rise above the rest of the city: Tier Breche, the
side cavern occupied by the Academy where most drow cit·
izens are trained for adulthood; and the larger Qu'ellarz'orl
(or House-Loft), a plateau that is home to many of the
city's mightiest noble houses, separated from the lower
city by a forest of giant mushrooms. From either of these
heights, a surveyor can view the city. The view shows rows
of spired stone castles, their sculpted highlights lit by the
soft, tinted flows of permanent faerie fire lights.