The next day, after packing up camp, the party set off once more toward the Underdark.

The Underdark, at its core, was simply the world beneath the material plane—a vast subterranean realm separated from the surface by nearly a kilometer of solid rock. Beneath this sunless layer, a world of its own flourished.

The origins of the Underdark went all the way back to the ancient ages of creation. When the gods brought forth all manner of life, there were some creatures that simply couldn’t thrive under the sun on the open earth—sentient fungi, carrion feeders, Myconids, and all those sensitive to sunlight, such as Duergar and Deep Gnomes. What they needed was an entirely different kind of home—a dark world shielded from the light.

And so, the Underdark was born.

Living off the minute flow of matter and energy that trickled down from the world above, these creatures managed to thrive underground, occasionally interacting with the surface, but more often living apart and keeping to themselves.

Unfortunately, things changed. Strange Mind Flayers began to haunt the Underdark. Not long after, Dark Elves who worshipped the Demon Queen of Spiders retreated into the depths, followed by all sorts of criminals—goblins, orc raiding parties, slavers—discovering the Underdark made a perfect hideout...

And, because this endless maze of caverns was the birthplace of Minotaur talent, many tribes of these labyrinthian brutes migrated below to claim their own turf.

The population grew, resources became scarce, and, deprived of the sun’s nourishment, everything here depended on whatever energy and supplies trickled down from above.

Over time, every race started to come to the surface more frequently to snatch what they needed. The more they raided, the worse the Underdark’s reputation became.

After a long trek, Charles and his companions finally entered this subterranean world.

Despite being so far below ground, the Underdark was not as dark as expected. The walls were studded with phosphorescent fungi, their faint glow a byproduct of the earth’s currents. While these mushrooms subtly reshaped the underground flow of magic, they provided enough light to allow even those with weak darkvision to find their way.

For Charles’s party, with the bright illumination from Theresa, sight was never an issue—they could move freely through the endless tunnels.

Coming in, Charles had expected immediate trouble. This was, after all, the stronghold of every evil race imaginable—a place where random encounters ought to be the rule.

But the reality was very different. The entire trip was remarkably peaceful.

It wasn’t that they didn’t see other groups—bands of other races did cross their path—but after one look, they sensibly gave way. No one even tried to start a fight.

Maybe Shapiro’s menacing presence at the lead, carrying his massive scythe, was just too intimidating. Or maybe Charles’s group just radiated serious threat. Either way, nobody wanted trouble.

Charles didn’t even get to test Shapiro’s real abilities. He’d always suspected Shapiro must be formidable—even making the cut for Montport’s hunting party—but so far, there’d been no real chance to see him in action.

Even Theresa, who’d once fought shoulder to shoulder with him, recalled that back then the balors they fought had practically crashed headfirst into the ground, badly injured; the threat hadn’t been all that serious. The goristros were half-dead after getting hammered by the dwarves’ Griffon Knights. So, so far, Shapiro hadn’t really shown off his real strength, and Charles still felt he didn’t have the full picture.

Led by Hanni, the group soon reached the edge of Darklake, and the small settlement Jarlaxle Baenre had described.

It was obvious the small town was freshly built—a web of newly-dug tunnels and caverns, the raw marks barely a month old.

At the town’s center, a deep crevice ran east to west, splitting the settlement into north and south halves. Charles had Theresa scout around: up north at the market were mostly Dark Elves and various surface-dwellers weakened by the lack of sunlight and sporting nightvision goggles. The southern side was dominated by Duergar and Deep Gnomes.

Charles didn’t bother with social niceties—he went straight north and bought a set of thieves’ tools and trap-disabling gear from a merchant. Handing over the payment, he asked, "Excuse me, if I want to find Mr. Lotuen, where should I try my luck?"

The merchant took his money, looking a little hesitant. "Ah, Lotuen. Head east until you spot a cavern marked with a circle of six lines. Ask around there—he’ll show up."

Thanking him, Charles gathered the party and followed the signposts east. The symbol was easy to spot—hard to miss, really. A group of men with half-shaven heads stood there, puffing on pipes.

Charles stepped up and asked, "Who here is Lotuen?"

They all turned, staring at him in surprise. Then, a raspy voice sounded from behind: "I’m Lotuen."

Charles turned, just as surprised by what he saw.

A beholder!

But this beholder was a far cry from the legendary Xanathar—he actually looked a bit pathetic.

A typical adult beholder would have ten eyestalks, each capable of firing a distinct eye ray. This one had only six left.

The stumps of the other four were marked with old scars, clearly cut away in battle. And just above the main eye, another scar slashed across the skin.

Clearly, this beholder was a true veteran, battered by countless fights.

Charles looked him over from head to toe before collecting himself. "Uh, hello, Mr. Lotuen. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting your true identity at all."

He’d never expected the contact would be a beholder.

The beholder’s mouth opened, raspy voice again: "And I’m surprised too. Lord Charles—famous for slaying the Abyssal Lord at Liberl Port—turns out to be so young."

"And now, here you are, coming to me for help. I’m honored."

Whether he meant it or not, it was clear the beholder was actively trying to be friendly.

Charles smiled gently. "No one is all-knowing or all-powerful. As long as we’re not enemies, there’s always some opportunity for cooperation, isn’t there?"

He glanced around. "It’s crowded here. Mr. Lotuen, do you have somewhere more private where we can talk safely?"

Floating in midair, Lotuen’s massive main eye blinked, "Of course. Follow me."

Turning, the floating beholder led them deeper into the circled cavern, then veered off into a side tunnel.

Charles signaled the witches and followed. After winding through some deserted passages, Lotuen finally halted in a quiet alcove. "This works. From here, I can perceive everything—no one’s going to eavesdrop."

"Lord Charles. Now, why don’t you tell me what you’re after?"

Charles nodded—he could sense the arcane pulse here. The beholder had certainly turned this cavern into its own nest, controlling the entire place, just like Charles’s monastery above.

Getting straight to the point, he said, "I’m tracking something, and Jarlaxle should’ve told you about it?"

"He mentioned it in his message, but kept things vague. Said I’d get the details once you showed up," Lotuen replied. So Charles took out his documents and showed them to the beholder.

Lotuen scanned them, his eyestalks shooting upright in surprise. "Good heavens! Jarlaxle is still not over this? He’s really going up against his own family?"

Charles’s expression shifted. Lotuen, after all, didn’t exist in any game supplement—Charles had no idea what his alignment might be. Calmly, he replied, "That’s not really clear—it was me who asked him to look into this on my behalf. It’s just business."

"Is it complicated? Do you mind explaining in detail?"

Lotuen’s huge eye wavered before he let out a sigh. "Ah! It’s not a huge deal. It’s really more Jarlaxle’s business, so forget what I just said—it shouldn’t concern your case."

As if eager for Charles to drop the line of questioning, Lotuen hurried on. "The place you want? I know it. Problem is, all the overland routes are sealed off by the Dark Elves."

Lotuen’s casual tone belied the seriousness of his words.

Charles frowned—it seemed the ties between Sulpharlo and the Dark Elves were deeper than he’d thought.

And that thing about Jarlaxle and his family...

The Baenre family—first among the eight ruling houses of Menzoberranzan—are the deadliest demon-worshippers around. The women are notorious as demon tamers, the family holds enormous power—Charles definitely did not want to cross them at his current level.

Just one fact: the current matriarch, Quenthel Baenre, stands on par with Laeral Silverhand or Vajra Safahr, making her one of the strongest legendary spellcasters alive—well out of Charles’s league.

In other words: avoid a direct clash at all costs.

Noticing Charles’s reaction, Lotuen’s voice turned a bit mocking. "So, if you want to go straight over and deal with them directly, I can take you right now."

"But if you want to sneak in, we’ll need a better plan. For example, you’ll need a boat—and be ready for it to take damage."

That said, he squinted his main eye at Charles, not hiding his sly tone. "Boats are expensive here; everyone needs them for trading. Lord Charles, at least, I can’t afford one."

Charles, privately, was relieved that this beholder seemed to know of his reputation but not his wealth. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Good—at least the real information about him wasn’t out in the wild.

So, putting on a slightly surprised face, he asked Lotuen, "Wait, did you say you’ll personally take us over?"

"Of course," Lotuen grunted. "I promised Jarlaxle I’d see this through. So my advice? Spare no expense—a sturdy boat only. Otherwise, if it falls apart, we both might just end up as fish food."

Charles regarded the tough-talking beholder with wary amusement. He didn’t fully trust this guy, but looking at all those scars and considering the firepower in his own party—not to mention the deadly weapons carried by Nymeria and Shapiro—Lotuen wasn’t a real threat if he tried anything.

So the corners of Charles’s mouth lifted in a faint smile.

"No problem," he told Lotuen. "Money’s not an issue. Just tell me—where’s the place, and where can I find a reliable boat?"

Not one to stall, Lotuen raised an eyestalk, fired a force ray, and pulled aside a stone from the wall. Two giant parchments floated across to Charles and unrolled.

"These are maps I made—one of this settlement’s surroundings, the other of the Darklake’s shore. The parchment wasn’t big enough for a single map, so you’ll have to cross-reference. But don’t worry—I’ll point out the important spots so you can find your way."

Charles studied the confusing maps for a moment, feeling a headache coming on. He turned to Sophia and the Willo-Adele duo, "This is your job."

With her keen memory, Sophia was the perfect candidate for mapwork. Same went for Willo and Adele—they’d come down expressly to chart the Underdark, after all.

Sophia nodded, producing a fresh parchment from her Bag of Holding. "Go ahead, tell me where. I’ll sketch the best route as we go."

Lotuen began to speak, but Charles interrupted, "Actually, Mr. Lotuen, what about the boat? Why don’t you go over the maps with them, and I’ll start looking for a boat. That should save time."

The beholder paused, then said, "Sure. Follow the main crevice west—there’s a kuo-toa village. They sell all kinds of boats, from tiny fishing skiffs to warships with room for a hundred—whatever you need, and priced pretty fairly."

Then, as if reminded of something, he let out a sly laugh. "But one thing—when you get there, don’t mention my name."

Charles looked surprised. "Really? I figured dropping your name might get us a discount."

You’d think, since Lotuen had just recommended the water route, that he’d have ties to someone selling boats.

"Heh, you can try." Lotuen answered. "But you’ll probably end up paying more. Or worse—getting nothing at all!"

Charles nodded. This beholder was definitely a character. Seems he actually wanted to send Charles into his enemies’ hands to buy a boat.

He didn’t linger, leaving Theresa behind with Lotuen to work on the maps, while he led the others out of the cavern.

Once the magic-soaked air of Lotuen’s lair faded, Charles turned to his companions. "Let’s split up. Shapiro, go buy the materials you need for the magic array."

"By the way, about how much will all this cost? The Underdark’s prices could be double what we’d pay at Liberl Port."

Shapiro snorted, "No worries. I’ve got plenty. No matter how much, I can afford it."

Charles shook his head with a sigh. "No need to treat me like a stranger, Shapiro. I’ll be using those materials too. Besides, you never know—on a market like this, rare magical items might pop up. If you run short of cash, you’d miss your chance."

With that, he handed over a Bag of Holding. "There’s twenty thousand gold in here. If you see anything rare or magical, don’t hold back—buy it. The fight against your ancestor is our real priority. Let’s throw everything we’ve got at it."

Shapiro’s throat bobbed. In the end, he nodded and took the bag. "Alright."

~~~

Get early access to 370+ advanced Chapters on Patreon!

https://patreon.com/TransFic

~~~