In all the legions of all the armies of all the forces of Lolth, not one officer had the foresight to bring along a map of the Flanaess. It was left to Morag to churn through the burned remnants of Keggled Bend's library. Filthy with soot and cursing bitterly, she tried to make sense out of the scraps of ash and rubbish left by a thousand rampaging demons.
She summoned her own vassal tanar'ri-hopping demons shaped like frogs, vultures, or rotting canines with crab claws. None of them were any earthly use. They merely upset the piles of scorched shelves and rubbish to make yet more mess. Apparently the only creature in the Abyss with any hint of intelligence, Morag did the filthy job herself, digging through ruins that still reeked of blood and fire.
Fastidious as a cat, Morag swore at each smudge and smear. Rotted bodies, putrefied entrails, blood, and sludge revolted her. All she wanted was a little home-a neat tower made of bone she would set beside a waterfall. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere clean. Somewhere a book could be left open without a quasit ripping out the pages to line its nest! There should be more to life than this! Cleanliness! Friends! Someone to talk to-even someone to curl up against. No more pain, no more blood, no more fear. But she was trapped. Lolth had discovered her secret, true name, and now Morag was bound to centuries of servitude. There was nothing Morag could do-no escape, no freedom, nothing while Lolth still held Morag's true name in her claws!
Morag heaved over a fresh pile of intermingled bodies, burned books, and fallen roofing tiles, swearing openly as she set about her work.
"I could have taken service with Demogorgon. I could have been with Jubilex, but no-o-o-o-o!" She worked in a flurry, all six arms hurling ruined parchments to the winds. "The queen of the drow will have manners! The queen of the drow will have dry quarters! Intrigue, cunning, plot, adventure! We'll get it all from the queen of the drow!"
"Mora-a-a-a-ag? Morag!"
An imperious summons came from the streets. Cursing as she pulled her sleek black clothing straight, Morag slithered over to a broken window and looked out.
There she was-near naked, wild, and magnificent. Lolth, looking rested, relaxed, and competent, walked upon a carpet of terrified slaves as she conferred with her generals.
"Morag? Where have you slithered off to now, you slimy little spinster?"
With a weary sigh, Morag perched herself in the window and called, "Yes, your Magnificence?"
"Morag!" Lolth looked over at the ruins in disdain. "What are you doing? You look like a charcoal burner."
"I am searching for maps, Magnificence."
"Whatever for?" Lolth waved toward some drow noble who followed adoringly behind her. "The drow have maps!"
"Maps twenty years old, Magnificence. There has been a major war since then."
Lolth gave Morag a pitying little sigh. "Oh, Morag, we have scouts out on the winds! The generals have all that sort of thing in hand. Surely you trust my generals?"
Morag turned away from the window with a mutter. "I wouldn't trust them to sit the right way around on a toilet."
Eventually, she uncovered a map-or part of a map, at least. Though smudged and leaked upon, it clearly showed a city a hundred miles to the northeast. Morag shook the parchment out and slithered her coils down to the street. She would summon some dark elves and have them make clean copies-in triplicate, one set of copies to each army commander.
Morag slid past a half-eaten corpse left moldering in the street. She found a ruined house that still had curtains, and she used the cloth to wipe herself clean. As she finished, she saw a figure leaning carefully over footprints in the mud, sniffing at them like a hellish dog.
It was a figure in eagle armor. One of its feet was brand new, contrasting against its withered, mummified skin. Morag watched it go, then slithered over to join Lolth's bustling entourage. Varrangoin-huge cadaverous shapes with bat wings-crouched before the goddess as they gave their reports. The creatures scattered and beat heavily into the air as Lolth dismissed them with a wave.
Morag handed over her maps and installed herself at Lolth's side. A vast ring of tanar'ri had formed-jagged creatures that hopped and flapped, monsters with claws so hard they scored the cobblestones. These were the elite of Lolth's legions-her officers and her warlords, creatures who had slaughtered innocents in their tens of thousands.
Morag leaned close to Lolth, frowning, and whispered quietly into her mistress's ear. "Magnificence, I have seen the Eagle warrior-the undead ranger. He's back inside the city walls."
Not particularly interested, Lolth stood with her demonic generals-vast, towering beings wreathed in flames. She issued imperious orders, her body gleaming from the heat of her advisors, then turned to face her secretary with a scowl.
"What? You saw it?"
"Not a hundred yards away, Magnificence."
"Absurd! What was it doing?"
Morag gave an elegant shrug of all six shoulders. "Searching for a trail, magnificence. Unsuccessfully."
Lolth fumed, reflecting that her plans for vengeance had failed. But there was an army to muster and enemies to tame. Revenge could wait until another time. Lolth allowed slaves to clasp a cloak about her neck, then she signaled for her spider palace to be brought to the city walls.
"We'll deal with it later." Lolth's eyes were silver flame, her naked skin pure liquid ebony. "Once this little world is ours, we shall pull it apart stone by stone until we have found that faerie and her Justicar."
In a sudden explosion of rage, Lolth whipped her fist back to pulp the head of a human slave. Blood geysered, and Lolth stood, flexing her fist, eyes wild as she clenched the gore.
The fit passed. Lolth moved on, turning to make sure Morag fell in behind her.
"Well? Did you find those maps or didn't you?"
"I have maps, Magnificence."
"Then bring them to the palace!" Lolth walked through howling, shrieking ranks of servitors. "Come! We're returning to the Demonweb."
Lolth marched away. Morag signed for her clerks and followers and hastened along in Lolth's wake. Behind them, chaos broke out as the towering generals drove their troops into ranks and columns, ready to crush all of the Flanaess under her heel.