Author's Note: Coming up on a ten year anniversary and guess what-I'm going to finish this story! Yep. I am. If anyone wants to read it after all this time, I tip my imaginary hat to you! (And if you pop me a little review, I'll know you actually exist. Which would be pretty nifty.) I'm not even going to get into all my reasons for taking so astonishingly long to finish this because good excuses are still excuses!

So a few explanations. Technically this is a Baldur's Gate/Neverwinter Nights crossover, but although they may be two fandoms, they're one world, separated in time by only a few years. Solaufein is a minor character from Baldur's Gate 2 that the Bhaalspawn meets while she is in the Underdark, pursuing the enemy who stole her divine soul. (Haer'Dalis is one of her potential companions.) I quite like Weimer's BG2 Solaufein mod character but I have a different vision of the elf; that's what you'll see here. And although I've written a number of BG fics, I'm deliberately keeping all references to the Bhaalspawn vague because this story doesn't tie to my others. (Although it could...nope, not going there.) And finally, disclaimers. Why do we write disclaimers when we're posting on a fanfiction site? I have no idea. Consider everything I obviously don't own disclaimed!

How did I originally rate this, T? Yeah, I think I can keep it to a T. As long as you're not, like, super picky because, hey, we're going to the Underdark and there's going to be plenty of nasty people who think slavery, assassination, torture, sexual domination and bigotry are business as usual. And some not-so-nasty people who don't know any better...

So, there were originally nine chapters posted and I will replace all of those with my revisions, and then on with the new stuff. I haven't worked out a posting schedule yet. It's looking like two dozen chapters total. Hope you enjoy.

1...Prelude

Solaufein slept.

He lay wrapped in his blankets and he slept like a human while the full moon silvered the trees that surrounded his tiny hut on the edge of the Forest of Tethir. He had hidden his difficulties with reverie from his hosts, the wild elves of Suldanesselar. Why expose a weakness? Why give the darthiir another reason to despise him?

True reverie continued to be beyond his capabilities most nights. One day, with Eilistraee's grace, he might find peace. One day.

Solaufein slept. Light chased shadow across the clearing before his hut. Solaufein dreamt.

He opened his eyes to darkness. This was not the pattern of shadow on shadow that passed for darkness on the surface world. This was true darkness. This was the rich, secretive darkness of home. This was the darkness of the Underdark.

He was not alone. A woman approached with the deliberate footsteps of one who acknowledged no need for stealth. She spoke, but not to him. She had a strong voice, a confident voice. An angry voice. He stood in darkness. To evade that voice, he would have drawn up the darkness like a cloak. But here, in the Underdark, darkness was no protection.

"You tell me this-this mere male can stop me? Your jest fails to amuse."

Solaufein's heart stuttered in shock and then raced. Phaere? She lives? Solaufein twitched in his sleep. One hand closed as if it sought a weapon. They swore to me she was dead.

"He is a threat to your ambitions." Solaufein recoiled from the deep unnatural voice that echoed as if the very air shrank from its resonant tones.

"I will not be stopped," the woman said. "Not by this male and not by your games. If this male is indeed a threat, bring him to me."

"I cannot, Matron Mother."

Phaere is a Matron Mother now? House Despana survived what we did to it? They lied about that too?

"You will treat me with the respect I am due, fiend!"

"Of course, great Valsharess." The sonorous voice lingered over the title, drawing it out.

Valsharess? What madness is this? There is only one queen of the Underdark and that is Lolth. Not even a Matron Mother would dare make so bold a claim. Who would risk the Spider Queen's wrath?

"I command you to bring him now," the woman said.

"He lies beyond my power, Valsharess."

"As mighty as you are, devil, such a simple task is beyond your power? I would like to know how that is so." No answer. "If you cannot fetch him, show him to me. Show me his image. Do not dare tell me you cannot."

Flames roared before him in a blinding curtain of light and heat. Solaufein flinched but the flames died down to form a ring around him. Once he would have been blinded but his eyes had adapted somewhat during his years on the surface. The floor was tiled in dark marble. Light reflected off the cut stone of the walls. The room was strange to him yet he could almost feel the comforting weight of the rock above him. A woman pivoted on one foot to face him. Red eyes burned from her dark face. She stared right at him.

Not Phaere. I was wrong. A drow but not Phaere. They didn't lie.

If he had ever seen this woman before, he knew he would remember. Her eyes flicked past his shoulder. Fear-or the spell that held him-did not let him turn to see who stood at his back.

"What is his name?" the woman asked.

"He is called Solaufein."

The Valsharess stepped closer. Click. Click. Click. Her heels stabbed the floor. "Solaufein," she breathed. "And his House?"

"He has no House, Valsharess."

"An outcast." She met his eyes. The impulse to lower his gaze was ingrained but his paralysis prevented him from any show of submission. "I do not know how one such as you can threaten my great rise but I will give you this one warning, male. Do not stand in my way." Her eyes narrowed. "Oppose me and I promise I shall see you dead. The Underdark will be mine. Nothing and no one will stop me."

Solaufein woke to a pounding heart and moonlight bright on his face.

Great Valsharess, whoever you are and whatever you want, you have nothing to fear from me. There is nothing that will drag me back to the Underdark. Nothing.

Far off in the distant he heard the faint echo of a hunting horn. It was unusual for the wild elves to hunt so late at night but the sound was comfortably far away. He sank back into sleep. And into another dream.


Samuel Thunderburp filled a tray with dirty mugs as the temple bells finished ringing the hour. The crowd in the tavern had thinned down to the serious drinkers, the ones who would linger until dawn if allowed and then stagger out to retch in the alley. Poor fools. The halfling frowned as the front door opened. Patrons arriving this late had likely been booted out of other bars.

His innkeeper hackles rose at the sight of the lone stranger. What's amiss here, Sammy me boy? The stranger wore a moss-colored cloak with the hood pulled down to shadow his face. A muggy summer night in Athkatla was warm for such a heavy cloak and far too warm for the gloves that covered the stranger's hands. As for his feet-

Samuel's nose gave a worried twitch. This one bore watching.

The stranger stepped out of the doorway and scanned the room. No drunk moved with such wary grace. He-or possibly she, since the stranger appeared slight for one of the tallfolk-stood in indecision before moving to a small table in the room's darkest corner. When the barmaid approached, the stranger ordered wine but made no attempt to chat her up, Samuel noticed. He did not remove his gloves when the bar boy brought him his drink, not even when he took a coin from his pouch to pay. Jemmy took the coin with a smile, then recoiled, all traces of sleepiness abruptly wiped from his face. After a moment calculated just long enough to look unrelated, Samuel beckoned for the boy to come to the bar.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

Jemmy swallowed. "Nope." Samuel suppressed a sigh. Jemmy wasn't the brightest of boys when he was fresh and being asleep on his feet didn't sharpen his wits.

"Did that fellow say something to you?"

"Nope." Samuel gave him a look. Jemmy blinked. "Asked how much for the drink and when I told him, he gave me a silver. Asked if it was enough. Didn't ask for no change. So I didn't give him none."

"Amnian coin?"

"Aye."

"And that was all?" Jemmy shifted from side to side. "Well, was it?"

"I guess."

"Spit it out, boy."

"He looked up and his eyes-naw. Must have been the light."

"What did you see?" From experience, Samuel knew there was no point in giving the boy the clout he deserved.

"His eyes looked all red and scary. Like a vampire. But they're all dead now, right? So I was wrong about the eyes."

Four years ago, the Bhaalspawn, bless her, had wiped out the nest of vampires that preyed on the town. But that didn't mean there weren't more, Samuel thought. There could always be more and the Bhaalspawn was long gone.

"Take this tray to the kitchen," Samuel said. "Then go upstairs and fetch the big 'un. Tell him to bring his special friends."

"His friends? Didn't see him bring no lady friends home tonight."

"Go on, now. Do what I said. He'll know what I mean."

And he did, for when the bard came down the stairs, Samuel saw he wore his sword belt with a sword at each hip. The bard cocked an eyebrow and joined him behind the bar.

"Trouble?"

"Mayhap," Samuel said. "Fellow just came in. Over there in the corner, the one with the hood."

The bard followed the innkeeper's gaze. "A traveler, judging by his pack."

"An honest man needn't hide his face like that."

"Some men hide their scars." The bard touched his own face lightly. Samuel had always thought the facial marks looked like decorations rather than battle scars but he'd never asked.

"Some men hide their faces for other reasons," Samuel said. "I don't like the look of him. I don't like his boots." When the bard snorted, the innkeeper scowled. "I'm serious, big 'un. Those are boots for dark nights and darker deeds."

"Such weighty expectations for a worn pair of boots, my dear Thunderburp."

"I'm never wrong about shoes. Look at your own feet. Are those a poet's shoes? Nay, big 'un, you're shod like a swordsman."

"Perhaps I am at that. Very well, my perspicacious wren, what would you have me do? Shall I accost this mysterious stranger of yours? Ask if he's murdered his cobbler?"

"He looks like your kind of trouble to me."

"You flatter me," the bard said. He grinned and sauntered across the room. Samuel couldn't hear the bard's greeting but he didn't miss the stranger's reaction. He reached for the cudgel he kept behind the counter when the stranger came to his feet in one swift, sinuous motion.

"Solaufein!" the bard cried.

"Haer'Dalis." The stranger held out his gloved hand but the bard laughed and lunged forward. He swept the smaller man into an exuberant embrace. The stranger stiffened and was quick to grab his hood when it fell back. But he was not quick enough to prevent Samuel's glimpse of snowy hair, ebon skin, and the devilish red eyes that had startled Jemmy.

"My raven, this is an utterly unexpected pleasure," the bard said.

Samuel put back the cudgel. A drow elf, here in Athkatla. I knew he was your kind of trouble, big 'un. And I daresay I'm right about the boots as well.


darthiir-surface elf