-------------- The Clones – Charlagra

The Drow moved out of the darkness, which in the far corners of the UnderDark was somewhat difficult to escape. The thing she was here to meet stood blocking the little light there was on the back street of Elg’calkysheen. Amongst the swarming horrors, the street gangs, and the forces of the Matron Mother, this one was just another oddity, a cloaked monster looking to remain unseen, but gaining attention in the process. The thing stood there as the papers passed between them and soon it was gone. The Drow thanked her luck that the thing hadn’t eaten her and wondered what her master was doing dealing with such a creature as she slinked back to the Chalcedony Tavern.

Back in her chambers in the Inn, the thing known as Charlagra lost her cloak and lit the candles. She poured through the papers and then used her magic to unlock the secret code put there by the tavernmaster, Chalcedony. It was as mother had expected. The plot was proceeding as planned. The actual star metal shipment had gone a different route, and Charlagra was to intercept the caravan and take the material back to mother’s secret place, a chamber so far removed from the rest of the UnderDark that only a few Mord Elves had ever seen it. It was time to prepare for the journey, and leave the accursed Drow city behind.

Charlagra had hated the Drow cities almost from the time of her birth, though birth was an odd word for one of Mother’s brood. None of them had ever been inside mother’s womb. In fact, all of them had been conceived in a test tube and born inside a maturation chamber. All but one had been programmed with the knowledge and skills they would need. Charlagra’s skills had come from a Drow Deep Delver, for that was her purpose in life. Mother had needed one who could traverse the terrifying depths of the Western UnderDark and the far Northwestern frontiers, and do so alone and unaided. To achieve that goal, she’d been created with a goodly amount of Umberhulk DNA. Her skin was a thick black carapace. Two large compound eyes protruded from her forehead. To meet the gaze of those eyes would leave the mind of most creatures stunned and reeling, unable to act. A pair of adamant pinchers stuck out from her jaw bone, matching the six inch long adamant claws protruding from her finger tips. She was a solid, nearly indestructible killing machine, and amongst her sisters, only one was larger or stronger. But Drejandra was far away, doing Mother’s bidding in the frozen mountains of Shabrund. Now, it was fortunately time to leave Matron Zhegorvar’s stinking stronghold and return to the rocks, the caverns, the deep gorges and the blackness. Soon she’d have stone beneath her adamant claws once more, free from the stench of civilization.

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