Resurrection by Paul S. Kemp

And with Pharaun away on the mission to the Demonweb Pits, he would need Nauzhror.
    "Of course, Nauzhror," Gromph said. "We must let the ring do its work for a moment more."
    "Yes, Archmage," answered Nauzhror.
    Gromph knew that the magical ring he wore would heal his flesh. The process was painful, itchy, and slow, but it was as inexorable as the rise of light up Narbondel's shaft. No doubt Gromph could have benefited from a healing spell-which his sisters could again cast, it seemed-but it galled him too much that Triel had already saved him once. The lichdrow had beaten Gromph, turned him to stone, and he would have died or remained a statue forever but for his sister's intervention.
    No, he could not ask her or any of the Baenre priestesses for healing or any other aid. Lolth's grace once more abided in them. Things would soon return to normal, and Gromph wished to be no more beholden to the priestesses of the Spider Queen than was absolutely necessary. He knew too well the price. Instead, he would endure a few more moments of agony while the ring regenerated his flesh.
    I am pleased that you survived, Archmage, said Prath in his head. The telepathy spell was still working, it appeared.
    I share your pleasure, Prath, Gromph answered. Now be silent.
    Gromph's head ached, and he no more wanted the apprentice's voice rattling around in his head than he did a dagger in his eye.
    In only a few moments, his skin was itching all over. He resisted the urge to scratch only with difficulty. After a few more moments, dead flesh started to fall from his body and new, healthy skin grew in its place.
    "Archmage?" asked Nauzhror.
    "A few more moments," Gromph answered through clenched teeth.
    He watched, wincing with pain, as clumps of blistered skin fell from his body and traced his silhouette on the ground. Gromph imagined himself as one of Lolth's spiders, molting its old form and pulling a larger, stronger body from the dead shell. The battle with the lichdrow had taxed him, but ultimately it had not beaten him.
    Of course, he reminded himself, the battle was not quite over.
    When he felt ready, when most of his dead skin had sloughed away into a grotesque pile on the bazaar's floor, he extended his still-tender hand to Nauzhror.
    "Here, help me rise."
    Nauzhror took Gromph's hand in his own and pulled him to his feet.
    Gromph held still for a moment, gathering himself, testing his regenerated leg, controlling the last vestiges of the pain.
    Nauzhror hovered near him, as attentive as a midwife but not touching him.
    "I'm quite capable of remaining on my feet," Gromph said but was not sure that he was.
    "Of course, Archmage," Nauzhror answered but stayed close.
    Gromph took a deep breath and let his shaking legs grow steady. Through his stolen Dyrr eyes, he surveyed the wreckage around him, surveyed the whole of the city.
    Except for the smoking ruin of the bazaar, the center of the city remained unaffected by the siege. The great spire of Narbondel still glowed, tolling another day in the life of Menzoberranzan the Mighty. Gromph could not remember if he had lit it or if another had.
    He cocked his head and asked Nauzhror, "Did I light Narbondel this cycle?
    "Archmage?" Nauzhror asked.
    "Never mind," Gromph said.
    Only the fact of Menzoberranzan's empty thoroughfares testified to the fact that the city was embattled. The ordinarily thronged streets were as still as a tomb. The Menzoberranyr had confined most of the fighting to the tunnels of the Dark Dominion, the Donigarten, and Tier Breche. The city's center remained untouched by any battle except that between Gromph and the lichdrow.
    But that battle had nearly leveled the bazaar.
    Gromph turned and looked across the cavern to the great stairway that led to Tier Breche. There on that high rise stood the spine of Menzoberranzan's power, the triad of institutions that had kept it strong and vital for millennia: Arach-Tinilith, Sorcere, and Melee-Magthere.
    Flashes, explosions, and