Deep in the recesses of the massive stalagmite structure that was House Qu'larrin, Matron Mother Ellysia Qu'larrin sat uncomfortably on a cold stone bench, her crimson eyes staring into the swirling lavender vortex of the scrying pool.  Opposite her, standing over the onyx fountain that housed the pool of violet-colored liquid was her younger sister, Alin'raei, the second-eldest daughter of House Qu'larrin and a figure that was almost legend in the city of Menzoberranzan.  Rather than be one of Lolth's chosen disciples, a high priestess, she had turned away from tutelage at Arach-Tinilinth, the school of the divine teachings of the Spider Queen that every female was expected to tutor at when they came of age.  Instead, she focused on building her burgenoning psionic abilities, and came to master them with the tutelage of a long dead illithid that had been a battle captive of the ruling house.<br/><br/>The visions began shortly after, so terrible and agonizing that she had cut out her own eyes in an attempt to rid herself of the sights that assaulted her.  She was gifted in prophecy, it seemed.  In a rage, she had the illithid killed, all while visions of the future continued to assault her.  Over the years, she had learned to accept the visions, and interpret their meaning.  They often aided House Qu'larrin, and the city itself, her visions warning her of impending assaults by neighboring denizens of the Underdark, as well as power plays by other, lesser houses.  Seeing in her the power to see the future, the Matron Mother had pulled her close, using her abilities to see any oncoming threats to her rule or to the city itself.<br/><br/>Even now, her empty eye sockets studied the scrying pool, the psionist using her telepathic abilties to scry the twisting, swirling waters.<br/><br/>"What do you see, sister?" Ellysia asked, growing impatient at the silence that lingered in the dark chamber.<br/><br/>"Darkness..." Alin'raei replied, speaking cryptically, as was her wont.  "Death.  There is a strange power here, sister, something that is blocking me.  I cannot penetrate its barrier."<br/><br/><div class="floatleft">   (http://i132.photobucket.com/albums/q15/doogieporker/Blinddrow.jpg)</div>"What manner of darkness?" Ellysia replied.  Before she could recieve her answer, however, the strange murky liquid in the pool burst aflame.  To her credit, she remained still, her eyes widening the only reaction to the eruption of archaic energy.  Alin'raei, however, flinched, lurching backward quickly as the gout of flame burst forth.  She crashed heavily into an obsidian table behind her, sending the contents resting atop it across the room.  She managed to retain her footing, but she was shaken by the event, and her fear was evident on her vieled face.<br/><br/>"What was that?" the Matron Mother asked, her irritation at her sister's fear written plainly on her dark face.  "What has interrupted your scrying?"<br/><br/>Alin'raei was silent for a long moment, trembling slightly, her hands shaking, her breath coming in quick gasps.  The vision continued playing in her mind, showing her what she had been attempting to see within the contents of the scrying pool.  As it did, she bit her lower lip to keep from crying out, hard enough to draw blood.  If she felt the pain, she ignored it, the images flowing through her mind enough to suitably distract her.  When it was over, she collapsed, falling to her knees, her hands splayed out on the cold, hard floor to steady herself and keep herself upright.<br/><br/>"Alin'raei!" Ellysia hissed, her anger evident in her voice.  She only used her sister's name when she was irritated, and the psionist quickly inhaled, not wanting to keep her sister waiting.<br/><br/>"It was...strange." she said, trying to form words to match what she'd seen.  "Images of the Abyss, or a place like it, strewn with the dead of our own kind.  They were without a mark upon them, and yet, they were quite dead, their faces pale and lifeless.  Then...they awoke.  Necromancy, perhaps?  No...not that.  Something was willing life into them, but not by magic.  Perhaps something...divine?"<br/><br/>"This is foolish..." Ellysia said, rising from the stone bench, her lower back muscles voicing their protest at having been forced to undergo such an uncomfortable seat.  She ignored the pain, and glared at her cowering sibling.  "Your talents have benefited us in the past, Alin'raei, and yet now, they are nothing more than an annoyance.  Form something coherant of your ramblings if you are to be useful to me from now on."<br/><br/>She turned, moving for the exit to her sister's cramped chamber, then stopped as she heard Alin'raei's response to her scathing remark.<br/><br/>"Now is not the time for your petty squabbling!" she hissed, then recoiled when Ellysia whirled on her, malice in her eyes.  "Forgive me, sister...but what I have seen is a vision of our future...the future of all our kind.  Something stirs in the Abyss, something I have never encountered.  It...lives, but does not.  It kills, but gives life.  It...feeds, but takes nothing..."<br/><br/>"Your riddles tire me, Alin'raei." Ellysia replied, narrowing her eyes dangerously at her younger sibling.  "Speak plainly, lest I flail the flesh from your back and use it for parchment.  What is it?"<br/><br/>"A...god..." Alin'raei said, uncertain if that was even the proper term.  "Or a demi-god, a new power in the realms of the Infernal.  That would not be troubling if not for the pure malicious intention I recieved from it.  This being...whatever it is...comes to Menzoberranzan."<br/><br/>The silence between them lingered for many long, tense moments as her words bespoke the trial that would face the mighty drow city.  They had weathered much, from the Time of Troubles to the Silence of Lolth herself, but now, with a new enemy, a god-like being intent on their destruction, coming to destroy everything that was Menzoberranzan, the color drained from both their faces.  Would the city endure once again, weathering yet another assault on its mighty power?  Or would this finally be the destruction of the City of Spiders?<br/><br/>"We must prepare." Ellysia said at once.  "Summon the High Council, and have them convene at the Temple of Lolth within the hour.  We must act decisively, lest this creature catch us unprepared for its arrival."<br/><br/>Just as she finished speaking, another vision assaulted Alin'raei.  She screamed, clutching her empty eye sockets, and fell to the floor once more, landing painfully on her side.  Her agonizing screams continued unabated for many long moments, alarming even the Matron Mother herself.  She moved over to her sister's side, watching as she clawed at the empty sockets, attempting to claw out eyes that were no longer there.  Blood pooled in them, and slowly began spilling out, falling in small rivulets on the cold, stone floor.  She continued screaming, even as Ellysia began to shake her, trying to draw her away from whatever visions assailed her.<br/><br/>Then, just as suddenly as they had begun, the visions faded.  Alin'raei fell back, her head lolling to one side.  Her face was a mask of blood, both from her empty eye sockets and the ragged lines she'd clawed into her own face.  She spoke, her words little more than a whisper, before her body convulsed one last time, and her sagging eyelids closed for the last time, never to reopen.<br/><br/>"It is here."<br/><div align="center">   *      *      *      *      *      *</div><strong>Donigarten</strong><br/><br/>In the center of Lake Donigarten was a small isle in which herds of rothe, the large, hairy beasts that were the dark elves cattle and source of food, roamed.  The beasts were blind and stupid, and easily frightened.  Many predators hunted the lake, and even more found their way into that particular section of the Underdark, despite the city's roaming lizard-riding guards.  Rothe were prey animals, and as such, had no natural defenses aside from their considerable bulk against the teeth and claws of the many monsters that prowled the subterranean caverns and tunnels.  Such beasts were always hungry, and when they hunted, they often made no sound to alert their next meal, even as they struck.<br/><br/>But for all their prowess, even these considerable beasts were no match for what frightened the large rothe herd.  The rothe began to sniff the air nervously, even as an ominious rumbling began to shake the moss covered ground beneath their feet.  The few goblin and orc slaves that tended the animals looked around nervously, trying to locate the source of the tremors.  They sighed in releif when the shaking suddenly ceased, and even the rothe themselves seemed to grow quiet.<br/><br/>Then, slowly, something stirred in the dark waters of the lake.<br/><br/>It started as a tremor that rippled across the surface of the lake, nothing more than the water's reaction to a sudden breeze across its surface.  The only problem was that there were no breezes so far underground, and the still air would never have caused such a disturbance.  Growing curious as to the sudden ripple that moved toward the isle, a goblin moved closer to the edge of the murky waters, a dulled prodding spear in one hand, standing twice his height.  The creature peered into the depths, trying to see what might be coming, despite the fact that there was no light to shine into the water.  Still, curiosity getting the better of him, the goblin prodded the water with the tip of his dulled prodding spear.<br/><br/>A loud splash echoed across the surface of the lake as the goblin was pulled beneath the water, a sudden screech the only sound he was capable of as he was pulled beneath its depths.  Those herders standing closest to him brought up the alarm, and as they did, a pair of drow, sitting atop their lizard mounts, moved to investigate the disturbance.  They wore matching adamantite chainmail, and carrried long, pointed pole arms, their tips coated in poison.  Their<em>piwafwis</em>draped casually on either side of their lizards as they moved through the rothe herd, their crimson eyes alert for any sign of danger.  They stopped a few feet from the edge of the water, studying their surroundings quietly and tensely.  They had both served at Lake Donigarten, Menzoberranzan's food source, for many years, and were trained to expect attacks from the water by carniverous predators both swift and deadly.<br/><br/>But nothing they had prepared for could save them when the waters erupted again.<br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://i132.photobucket.com/albums/q15/doogieporker/Kraken_by_delic.jpg)</div>A dark, slime-covered tentacle shot from the surface, and quickly enveloped the first drow, dragging him underwater even as his mouth opened in a silent scream.  He died as his mouth filled with water, the life crushed from him by the gigantic appendage.  Another tentacle emerged, whipping toward the second, who just managed to avoid the attack with a backward leap.  As he somersaulted through the air, he pulled his short sword, a blade magically enchanted to make its edge even keener than the sharpest blade.  It could cut through anything, even rock, and he was confident that it would save him from the fast moving tentacle.<br/><br/>Then, the creature emerged from the water, its top half covered in the same dark slime, while a single, malevolent eye stared at him, as if judging him under its baleful glare.<br/><br/>"A kraken?  Here?" he asked, even as the creature's mighty tentacle wrapped around him.  His blade fell from his grasp, falling uselessly into the murky water where it rapidly sank toward the bottom.  The drow struggled, trying to free himself, even as the tentacle grasping him was brought slowly closer toward the creature's center...toward the massive mouth full of gnawing, gnashing teeth.  The drow had just enough time to puzzle at the creature's mottled flesh, peeling away from its surface and even rotted in certain spots.  It didn't diminish the creature's strength, however, and the warrior felt a rib crack like a dry stick as the kraken squeezed him one last time.<br/><br/>Then, he was gone, disappearing in a charnel house of rows upon rows of serrated teeth.<br/><br/>With nothing more to fight it, the kraken took its time feeding.  Rothe were devoured one after another, slowly, the creature savoring their tough hides with every bite.  Its mindless feeding was only stopped by the call of its master, bidding it to return.  The voice soothed the creature, and with a dull wailing roar, it slipped back beneath the waters, fading away until its massive bulk was entirely submerged.  As subtly as it had approached, it also disappeared, the tiny ripples of water as it moved deeper within the lake the only sign of its passing.  Soon enough, even those were gone, and Donigarten was once again calm and silent.<br/><br/>The creature approached its master quietly and calmly, its twisting tentacles moving it closer toward the being who commanded it.  Within the confines of the creature's rotting brain, it recognized the being as man, or man-shaped, and vague memories of a different place came to it, of large wooden ships and pointed spears hefted by the throngs of men aboard them.  It recalled the pain of the those spears as they peirced its thick hide, but also trembled at the savored taste of man-flesh it had once enjoyed.  As much as the kraken wanted to savor man-flesh again, it dared not attack its master.  The kraken's continued existance relied on the benevolence of its master, and it would not risk its own doom to satisfy a craving.<br/><br/><em>'Calm, my pet...'</em>its master said, the voice speaking directly to its mind.  The creature understood its masters words, regardless of the language spoken.<em>'The time for feasting will come again, and soon.  For now, rest.  You will taste man-flesh once more, and it will be the dark, smoky taste of dark elves that next slithers down your gullet.'</em><br/><br/>The being controlling the long-dead kraken felt the monster shiver in anticipation, then go still, content to wait for its next feast.