Thick black smoke billowed through the darkness, lite only by the smoldering embers of what was once the estate of a minor house of Maerimydra. The inferno had moved on, sweeping across the drow city like a flood of devastation, leaving few to grieve for the many lost… not that the drow were known for their sympathy for the fallen. It was for the loss of their power and prestige that they mourned. Lolth had fallen silent, and in her absence Kiaransalee, lady of the dead, had taken Maerimydra in a torrent of fiery death and destruction. But the decimation of evil by evil was no cause for celebration, even though it might offer a respite for those above. For a vacuum often drew in more than what was there before, and two evils held in check by each other, were less dangerous than one held back by nothing! Amongst the smoldering ruins a pale figure picked her way the ashes of the only home she had ever known. It bore far more memories of abuse and cruelty than affection, but often the devil you know is preferable to the dread of the unknown. The ravishing of Maerimydra had taken the only thing she had loved in all her life, her mother, and now she had but a single path remaining to her; the one to the world above. For nearly fourteen centuries peace had reigned between the elves of the great Cormanthor and the men of the Dalelands; marked by the raising of the Standing Stone, the monument that stood even to this day as a reminder for all. But when the elves heard the call of the Retreat, and surrendered their stewardship of the forest to men, their ancient mythrals, the mantles of high-magic that protected their woodland homes, began to fail and fell to the corruption of their cursed kin; the drow. Now the peace lay broken, even as its monument remains as a mockery of the ancient promises, and dark forces tread the formerly treasured forest’s paths. News of Maerimydra’s fall filtered out to all then denizens of the forest, but their short-sighted rejoice was short-lived, as even more drow found their way to the surface; adding the surviving faithful of Lolth to the fractions vying for purchase within the woodlands, despite the continued silence of the queen of spiders. The path through Underdark was long and harrowing, leaving many lost and fallen along its darkened trails, and those that emerged faced the light of the sun, often for the first time in their lives. But every drow who endured the trial added one more measure of suffering to those who dwelled in the forest’s shadow. ****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** This is my first, hopefully successful, attempt at a new series since my bought with chronic writers block. Please don’t ask where the inspiration came from… I haven’t the faintest idea! I’m just glad it hit me! For those unfamiliar with my series; the alpha-numerical non-scene in front of each image title is my way of tying them together. The first group is the title and version of the series, in this case Tangle Trees version one (I tend to “revisit” series over and over again to try to improve either the images or narratives, or both). The second group is the “book”, in this case one (I rarely seem to hold focus long enough to get to a second “book”), and the image/narrative sequence in that “book”. By the way, I’m still using Victoria 4.2 and Michael 4 for my characters… I know; I’m now four generations out of date!