Jinnaari pulled the sword from the drider’s body, watching closely in case his last thrust wasn’t deadly. A low hiss escaped the creature’s throat as she breathed her last. Good.

He pulled out a rag and wiped the blood and ichor off the blade. Strange. There was no real light in this maze, yet the weapon he’d been provided gave off just enough for him to see. As he worked the cloth against the edge, more of the rust fell away. There was something magical about it; his soul felt a kinship with this sword.

Jinnaari shoved aside his curiosity. He had a job to do. Aust was still ahead of him, heading to the portal. He had to find the Drow, kill him before he reached his friends. Before Aust could kidnap Thia, and turn her over to Lolth.

He kicked at the drider’s corpse, and something scraped against the floor. Kneeling, he noticed a pendant. Picking it up, he examined it. It felt good in his hand.

“As I said, many treasures would be found within the maze.” Bahamut’s voice came from all around him.

Not wanting to second guess his God, Jinnaari clasped the chain around his neck. He began to search the creature with a purpose. Where there was one gift, there may be more.

Hidden within a pack was a black silk cloak, with silver threads interspersed in the weave. Unsure of what it was, Jinnaari shoved it back into the pack and slung it across his body.

He would find out what the items were, all of them, in due time. Now, however, he hunted.