Author's Note: There is romance in here of the not M/F variety, just as a heads up. Also, this follows Falling Grace, but it isn't absolutely necessary to have read it. It just helps.
The light of setting Narbondel shone through the half-closed curtains, halfway illuminating the bedroom where Alystin of House Druu'giir lay wrapped up in the sheets with her lover. It was still and quiet, a space for just the two of them. Aly lay with her head propped up on one arm, studying the sleeping inquisitor. It was so rare for her to have time where Sabal was hers and only hers. Normally the wilder was caught up in so much Church business that there wasn't a chance to even breathe. Aly had all of her duties in the House as well, which so often limited their time together even on the rare occasions Sabal could carve out a space for them. Now, however, the wizard had a chance to take in the strangely peaceful image of the inquisitor lost in sleep. She traced her index finger along the bold scar that ran horizontally across Sabal's face, from one cheekbone to the other.
Amber eyes flickered beneath closed lids in response and a faint smile touched those so often cruel lips, but there was no sign that the wilder was waking up. Sabal's harsh beauty seemed somehow softer when she was sleeping. It also brought back to the surface her relative youth. People assumed Sabal was much older than her true age, which was not even two centuries. It was the weight of experience that had aged her beyond her years. With Alystin, people just sensed the truth, but she was not as battle-hardened as her lover.
Sabal's many scars were all familiar to Aly after this long together, though occasionally a new one appeared. They were reminders of both how fragile her lover was and how resilient. Things that would have killed others merely marked the inquisitor's body, but those same markings also told a story of brushing up against pain and even death. It was this one mark across her face that stood out vividly, unfaded by time, that had the most meaning. Now Aly brushed her fingertip around the curve of an ear and touched the place where a pointed eartip had once been before ghosting down across a line of earrings. Sabal stirred slightly and made a murmuring sound that left a warmth in Alystin's chest that she had experienced with no one else. It was no enchantment, but instead a feeling she refused to give a name. Admitting to it would be weakness, after all. Nowhere else in their world would she ever indulge in so much softness. It was only here.
There had been a long period of adjustment, where things were not exactly right during the insanity that was Menzoberranzan's most recent bout of tumultuous years. She had been so consumed in her studies that she had forgotten to be present in moments like these. Sabal had withdrawn into her duties in answer. That distance vanished once Sabal was released from the bindings of her vows. She was still an inquisitor, but in a very different way. Perhaps the change had to do with how close Aly came to losing her lover at the hands of celestial forces and their allies. She still didn't like to think about it. It was easier to pretend that Sabal was invincible. Sometimes she certainly seemed that way, coming off the field of battle triumphant and proud, with that glowing smile that Alystin loved to see. This softer side of Sabal was just as endearing, though. In these rare times where Sabal was just her lover—not an inquisitor or a warrior or an agent of Lloth—Aly felt oddly...complete.
It was strangely comfortable to have Sabal in her space. The inquisitor created a certain security with her mere presence, a safety alien to the nature of the drow. Alystin found herself almost taking it for granted more often than not. She was just accustomed to it now. It wasn't necessarily just protection from physical wound, either. Sabal was not the kind of creature to let any kind of harm befall Aly, no matter who that protection infuriated. However, it was also something else entirely. There was a sometimes confusing sense of contentment that had become more and more familiar over the years, that same warmth that touched her on mornings when she awoke to see breakfast waiting on the side table and Sabal lying on the other side of the bed feigning sleep, as if to suggest that it was through no beneficence of her own. The wilder didn't like being caught doing anything that might suggest she had softness to her, except for when they were in bed together. Alystin had become very used to calloused fingers stroking her hair or her back ever so gently and soft murmuring words of compliment and comfort just barely touching her ears.
If anyone ever saw them like this, it could cost them both dearly. People would know to strike at her to harm the unyielding inquisitor—as too many of a variety of faiths would gladly—and vice versa. It was already perilous enough that people knew they were together in any way. They were in dangerous and uncharted waters, but worthwhile ones.
Aly finished her leisurely examination of Sabal's face by smoothing a lock of white hair away from those wild amber eyes closed in sleep. She kissed the wilder's forehead and settled back down to go to sleep again herself. Someone rapped sharply on the door, breaking her peaceful reverie. She recognized that knock. It could only be Yvonnel, as no other priestess could so clearly communicate impatience with a single, simple gesture...and no other priestess would have intruded through the living area to their bedroom without tripping alarm spells. Aly sighed and slipped out of bed, grabbing a robe and pulling it on before answering the door. She didn't want to wake her lover up if it could be avoided. Sabal often went days without resting, and even more often without a bed, so the precious few hours where she could collapse into a comfortable resting place were hours that Alystin guarded as fiercely as she could.
Fortunately, Yvonnel took a step back to admit Aly to her own living room rather than barging through into the bedroom. The wizard was grateful for that much. "Sabal is asleep," the arcanist said in a low voice, closing the door behind herself as she stepped through. "Did you need to speak with her?"
"Actually, I'm here for you," Yvonnel said. The Revered Daughter's crimson eyes were evaluating, but not particularly malicious. She was as neatly groomed as usual, although she was in armor rather than her clerical robes. The symbol of Lloth boldly emblazoned over her heart was still a little uncomfortable for the wizard with her history of heresy, even if her current loyalties were permissible according to the Church. "We have a...guest...at the temple in Arach-Tinilith who asked for you."
Aly felt her throat tighten up. "A guest?" she said. That could only mean some kind of demon. She hadn't made contact with Asaron in years, though she did keep up with the rest of the cult. Was it the succubus checking in on her? She couldn't imagine that being allowed. The alternative, however, was that a yochlol had demanded her presence. That was a very uncomfortable idea considering her rocky relationship with the Spider Queen. "I suppose I should go now."
"I find that it's not generally advisable to keep such things waiting," Yvonnel said. She looked up at the sound of the bedroom door opening. "Sabal."
The inquisitor stood in the doorway, her hair mussed from sleep and her amber eyes still only half open. She had just pulled on a spare long shirt that covered her down to maybe mid thigh. "Yvonnel? What are you doing here at this hour?" Sabal mumbled.
"Alystin's presence is required at the temple," Yvonnel said with a thoughtful look, as if she were measuring Sabal. "You should probably join her, lest things get out of hand."
"That bad?" Aly asked nervously. She wasn't certain she wanted to get involved in anything so dangerous. Not that Yvonnel would likely give her much of a choice.
Yvonnel shrugged. "It pays to be cautious when dealing with demons," she said simply. She nodded to the pair of them. "I will meet you both at the temple. I'd like to know what has it so interested in you."
Sabal watched bleary-eyed as Yvonnel left. She stepped forward and slipped her arms around Aly's waist from behind, resting her chin on her lover's shoulder. "I'll be there. It will be fine," she said, sensing the wizard's apprehension even in her half asleep state. The inquisitor smiled faintly when Aly leaned back into her just a little bit.
"You don't have to come if you don't want to. I'll be alright," Alystin said. "I can actually take care of myself."
"I know," Sabal said, turning her head so she could press a delicate kiss to the side of her lover's neck. She felt a rewarding shiver pass through the wizard's body. It was strange how something so small could get such a reaction, but gratifying. "But I would miss you. Besides, Yvonnel is expecting me now. She is not the kind of woman one wants to disappoint."
Aly sighed. "You have a point." She smiled slightly. "You know, you have to let go of me if we're going to get dressed."
Sabal made a soft grumbling noise and tightened her hold for an instant before letting her arms fall away. She lead the way back into their room where her armor and weapons were carefully laid out after an hour and a half of maintenance on it the preceding night. It was no more clutter than Alystin's arcane tomes, which seemed to end up in the bedroom constantly despite the inquisitor's best efforts to herd them into the wizard's study. She dragged a brush through her hair before changing into clean clothes and buckling on her armor. They would have a chance to bathe after whatever happened in the temple. The dark leather armor, reinforced with smoked mithril scale and fine chain at the joints, was scarred and battered after a lifetime of use. Sabal had gone through many suits, each one made in the image of the one that had come before it. The spiderweb patterns of adamantite that acted as a second set of strengthening reinforcement were intricate and interlocking. This was the second skin that had kept her alive for well more than a century now.
Alystin dressed more quickly since she didn't have armor to worry about. These days, she avoided wizardly robes where at all possible, aiming for street clothes that made her magical inclinations less obvious. The shirt and pants she wore were both well-fitting and made of fine material that did mark her as at least low nobility, however. She could feel Sabal's amber eyes on her, watching her dress with interest. "What?" the mage said with amusement.
"You look good in those clothes," Sabal said as she wound her blood-red sash around her waist, twisting and folding it into a perfect knot at her hip. The inquisitor flashed her lover one of her barely-there smiles. "You look better out of them, but still."
Even after years of being with the amber-eyed drowess, Alystin still felt her cheeks warm at the comment. It was strangely sweet, even more so coming from a fearsome creature like her lover. Sabal was not known for being the gentle person she was with the wizard. "Thank you," the mage said genuinely, prompting another of those barely-there smiles from Sabal that were no longer as rare as they once had been.
Their moment of peace ended the minute they stepped out the doors into the hall, not because House Druu'giir was chaotic, but because the world was now watching and there was little room in that for expression of softer emotions. The change was far more noticeable in Sabal, who had more of an image to project. Her expression became glacial and remote, her walk became a prowl, and those amber eyes glared out at the world as if every iota of existence had done her some grievous offense. It scattered servants when they reached the main hall with more effectiveness than any amount of kicking and shouting ever could hope to achieve, and this wasn't even Sabal in a bad mood. Those were the days where people would fight each other just to get out of her way. In the beginning, Aly had been a little off-put by the attitude presented by the wilder, but now she actually found it comforting. The anxiety of others at Sabal's presence meant safety for the mage had arrived. For her part, Alystin just tried to look noble with only marginal success. She didn't have the sneering presence that her mother and sisters had had, nor the winning charisma of Matron Druu'giir. She was too accustomed to being the quiet House Wizard who toiled away in relative obscurity, though she was now in the limelight far more often than she had been in her original house. The current Matron Mother in her life appreciated her contributions and made certain that the rest of the world knew it. It was a pleasant change of pace, even if it meant that people now recognized her on the street.
The streets of Menzoberranzan were not so crowded here in Qu'ellarz'orl, the noble district, with its glittering towers and broad avenues, but the number of people on the street markedly increased as they approached the grim edifice of Arach-Tinilith—shaped like a black spider with Menzoberranzan as its web—that brooded over the drow city. From this vantage point, it was possible to see the whole of the expansive city from a distance that did not show the sordid and chaotic nature of the place. It was darkly beautiful, remote, and perfect. Alystin would never feel at home in the temple that was part of Arach-Tinilith, but it became less and less intimidating as time went by. She no longer had to fear the wrath of Lloth, not when she served an allied demon lord who demanded the veneration of the Spider Queen. Aly paid the drow goddess at least lip service, no matter how much she disliked doing so.
Young drow parted to make way for the wizard and the barely-restrained maelstrom that was her lover. Sabal kept her whirling mind carefully shuttered within the fortress that was her will. Her lips pressed into a thin, cruel line of disapproval whenever people moved even a touch slow for her tastes. Her crowd-repellant abilities meant that they arrived untouched at the temple, well in advance of what time was expected. Neither of them hesitated at the door despite the unknown danger awaiting them.
What a danger it was.
Alystin saw a shape unlike anything she had ever seen in a temple of Lloth waiting at the altar, half wreathed in smoke. It was a flickering specter that seemed to blur in and out of reality indistinctly, almost as if made up of several overlaid mirror images. It was humanoid, but twisted and shadowy with no clear gender or features. "Mageling," it greeted in a voice that was like many speaking at once. Its words resonated in the minds of everyone assembled, though those words only reached the barest surface of Sabal's walls. She was the only one who did not appear perturbed. Even Aly was uncomfortable at the intrusion despite the fact that she'd been expecting something of this nature. Normally Sabal was the only one in her thoughts.
This was not a demon, at least not in the traditional sense. It was an eidolon, an expression of a plane—this time, the chaotic and evil Abyss itself—made manifest by the will of a very, very powerful demon...perhaps even a demon lord. Alystin sincerely doubted it had been sent by Lloth. The Spider Queen had her handmaidens for that. "Greetings," she said carefully. "What business motivates you to consult me, creature?"
"We are the servant of the Lady of Sacrifice," it said. It crouched down at the top of the steps and sat like a gargoyle surveying its domain. "We are bound to deliver this message to the mageling."
Abruptly, the voice changed. It became a single feminine voice that could have been crafted out of smoke and honey, tones just barely hinting at darker things. I have a task for you, child.
Alystin shivered at the abyssal, otherworldly quality to that voice. No one else would be able to make it out clearly. Sabal, Yvonnel, and the others would hear only a whispering of hinted Abyssal and that strange feeling of a powerful presence.
Something precious to Lloth was stolen from the Demonweb: knowledge. You will make certain it does not fall into the wrong hands. Retrieve it or destroy it. Either will be satisfactory. You will do this thing, child, and I will reward you.
The wizard nodded a little unsteadily. There were few details here, so she would have to summon and interrogate more demons...something not to be done before the watching eyes of the Church. Yvonnel had ushered out all but the most senior priestesses, which, while somewhat helpful, did not do much in the way of putting Aly at ease. These were the people she had to be most worried about, after all. To make it even worse, all of them were now scrutinizing her. At least, she thought she was going to have to summon more demons.
The eidolon leaped and vanished into Alystin, sending waves of agony through the drowess. She stumbled backwards, visions flashing behind her eyes. Her perception changed as she stood in some other place, a primordial darkness filled with webs and the arachnoid, crawling movements of creatures that she could not see. She could see someone running with all eight of her eyes and gave chase on instinct, many legs moving in perfect series. A man, with fair skin and fair hair. Not a faerie. She was not very familiar with surface races, but she assumed he was half elf from his narrow face and rounded ears. He looked terrified when he glanced back over his shoulder. He was running to a portal of some kind. What she did see was the symbol on his cloak. Asmodeus. Her blood boiled in her veins, charring her from the inside out with a hideous rage. There was no sign of an artifact or anything of that nature on his person, so what he had taken was either small or incorporeal.
Elénaril. Waterdeep.
Just before she could seize the creature with her fangs, he vanished through the strange portal. Aly started suddenly as she was jerked back to her real body. Her own skin felt oddly uncomfortable for a few moments as her mind readjusted to having only two legs and two arms, and none of the burning, predatory rage she had felt as she chased the man in her vision. She was no expert, but she was willing to bet that she had just witnessed all of that from the inside of a bebilith, sharing its consciousness. Now she needed to bathe just to get rid of this crawling, foul sensation. She became aware of the fact that she was slumped limply in armored arms. Only one person held her so carefully: Sabal.
"Are you alright, Aly?" the wilder asked, forcing herself not to show the concern she felt.
"The thief was a half-elf wearing a symbol of Asmodeus," the mage said, trying to stand on her own two feet despite the weakness in her legs. Her lover reluctantly helped her right herself even though the amber-eyed drowess would have much preferred continuing to hold onto Aly. "I think...I think his name was Elénaril. The vision suggested that he was bound for a place called Waterdeep. He escaped through a portal, though likely not one that led directly to any city. Too dangerous."
Yvonnel pursed her lips, the very picture of displeasure. "We will discuss this in private," she said meaningfully, motioning for Aly and Sabal to follow her out into the halls. Not a word passed between them, though worried amber eyes did for a second catch silver. Alystin shook her head to communicate that now was not the time to discuss her health.
The three walked together back to House Druu'giir's palatial estate, passing through thick walls and heavy gates to reach the beautiful villa. It was not the visible stronghold that some other houses presented to the world, but that was a deceptive sort of apparent vulnerability. In reality, the place was easily defensible and could easily serve as a beautiful trap for attacking forces. Statues of Matron Mothers long dead looked impassively out into the air above their heads, each one armed and capable of coming to life with enchantments if their assistance was needed. They were not without their scars, but they had largely been restored after House Kenafin's disastrous attack. Aly did not pity her family despite their awful fate. Those blood ties had been cut by cruelty long before the august power of Kenafin came crashing down. She was glad they were gone.
Yvonnel spoke only once they were safely ensconced in their quarters and behind powerful wards of silence. "Waterdeep is a surface city," the Revered Daughter said, taking a seat without invitation. It was a move that surprised no one in the room. After all, the woman had the authority to do as she pleased, even here in the home terrain of a Matron Mother. "You will be pursuing this thief into hostile territory. There are many forces under the sun that would see us ruined utterly, including the masters of this creature."
Alystin and Sabal exchanged a wordless look. Neither of them were happy about the idea of going to the surface, despite Aly's history as a follower of Eilistraee. She had always been uncomfortable around those races not native to the Underdark, largely because of inexperience with them. She could not predict how they would act and that frightened her. Sabal would probably be fine, so long as she met nothing that she couldn't kill. However, the wilder had no grasp of surface tongues at all. That would make things challenging. The mage was under no illusion that she would be able to persuade her lover to stay. Honestly? She was grateful that she had Sabal watching her back. "We have no choice," Aly said, sitting down as well. Instead of joining her, Sabal started to pace back and forth restlessly in front of the window, like a caged panther. "An archdevil like Asmodeus coming into possession of any knowledge of demons or the Abyss can only be dangerous to the Spider Queen and the Lady of Sacrifice. What if it's something that gives him a leg up in the war?"
The enmity between devils and demons was no secret to anyone. It was only strange to be involved with planar politics, though perhaps it was because the move was so brazen and even foolhardy. It was one thing to war with demon lords. To probe the defenses of a greater deity was nigh suicidal.
Sabal let out a sharp exhale. "He is powerful if he can pierce the darkness of the Demonweb and escape unscathed. Or very, very fortunate," she said. Aly could hear a subtle note of frustration, something that even Yvonnel likely didn't detect. No one knew the wilder better than her lover. Sabal did not like the idea of going up to the surface.
"Whatever the case, we need to find him as soon as possible. Though I very much suspect it will take a considerable amount of time," Yvonnel said as she stood up. "I expect you two to leave tomorrow. I'll see about finding you both equipment with less of a drow look. There is an entrance not far from Menzoberranzan that leads up to the Spine of the World."
The priestess left without bothering with a proper farewell, which didn't trouble either of them. Yvonnel was about to be a very busy woman arranging everything they would need on a very short timetable.
"You look unhappy," Alystin said. She stood up and went over to her lover, stalling the inquisitor's restless movements by slipping arms around that familiar armored form. She was used to the cold press of metal and hardened leather. It was comforting in a way, though not nearly as pleasant as the sensation of Sabal's body against hers without such barriers. "This will be fine, Sabal. We won't be up there long."
"A minute is too long," Sabal said darkly, even as her arms automatically came up to surround Aly's shoulders. She had been aboveground once, hunting followers of the Dark Maiden. It was not a visit she had cherished: the world above was loud and bright, even in mere moonlight, when compared to the serenity and dark of the Night Beneath. She did not find in it the beauty that Eilistraee's faithful saw. She much preferred the harshness of her homeland. The daylight was a nauseating concept as well. Neither of them had ever dared to venture out beneath the sun, though both knew it was possible to become accustomed to the light. "What of the dangers? The surface is thick with creatures that would slay a drow in a heartbeat."
"The same can be said of the Underdark, d'anthe," Alystin said with a hint of amusement. "We live in a dangerous world, beneath the ground and above the ground. As long as I have you with me, everything will be fine." She rested her forehead against Sabal's pauldron. "Trust me."
Sabal was quiet for a long moment. Finally, she sighed. There was a pounding in her temples as she struggled against the fury she felt when she even considered Alystin at the mercy of unknown threats. If she argued too much, she knew that she wouldn't be allowed to come. "I do," she murmured. "But do not expect me to like it."
"Of course not," Aly said. "We'll need disguises, Sabal. And allies."
"I do not want to go as other than I am," the inquisitor said stubbornly, tightening her hold on Aly slightly. "Let the surface world think what it wills."
"That will make things more difficult," the mage warned, even though she knew this was something that Sabal wouldn't want to budge on. It was going to be more than enough of a challenge to part the inquisitor from her weapon and armor in favor of a more disguised set, particularly her sword. It was probably best to concede on this battle, at least for the moment.
"Perhaps, but such things can be remedied by the judicious application of force," Sabal muttered. She knew she would have no problem punching faces flat if it meant she could walk undisguised.
"Whatever suits you," Aly said. "I'll disguise myself. One drow will prompt fewer questions than two."
Sabal looked distinctly disappointed. "I will miss seeing your face," she murmured, moving her hand to touch Alystin's cheek. She stroked one cheekbone with her thumb and watched as the wizard's silver eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
"In private, I will be myself," the mage promised. "Now, about allies. I know of a good place to begin. There is a dwarven warrior named Storunn Ironarm who I know through Lirayne Duskryn. He makes frequent trips up to the surface and could be a great help as a guide. He is a shield dwarf, so he'll likely be quite wary of you, but I think you have a certain charm that he might actually grow to like."
"Only for you," Sabal murmured. "Fine, so we talk to this Storunn. Do we have anywhere else to turn?"
"If we leave with a caravan, we may be able to recruit a guard or shady character. There will also be people who will want to help out of the goodness of their hearts once they find out we're chasing a servant of Asmodeus...as long as they don't find out who we're working for," Aly said. "Not that I trust anyone with supposedly altruistic motivations. There's always some angle."
Sabal made a noise of discontent, but she didn't voice a protest. Instead, she let her hands slide down Aly's sides to her hips, gently pulling her in tighter. It had to be a careful movement, because it was easy to bruise or scratch with armor, particularly since her gauntlets' fingers ended in sharp points. "A good beginning," she said, voice just a touch lower in pitch. "Yvonnel will have more advice tomorrow. Until then, let me show you how much I missed you when I was out in the Wilds."
Alystin smiled and brushed her lips along her lover's jawline. "Mmm, I like the sound of that," she said before claiming the wilder's lips in a kiss. They would have precious little time like this out on the road, an unpleasant distance necessary to protect both of them. Sabal tended not to express affection around others for precisely that reason: defense. It would expose a chink in their armor through which a foe could attack. The mage started to methodically unbuckle Sabal's armor. "Why don't we take a bath? Might be fun."
"I—" Sabal bit off her words at the sound of another knock and glared over at the door as it opened. She didn't care that it was Nedelyne herself: the Matron had just made herself a significant irritation and they'd known each other for so long that a certain informality was virtually expected. "Go away."
"You're getting crotchety as you get older, A'Daragon," Nede said almost impishly, stepping in. "I'd hate to see you at a thousand. I just got wind of what happened at the temple. Yvonnel is being her normal inscrutable self. How are you after all that, Aly?"
"I was about to be a lot better," the wizard said with an irritated sigh, reluctantly disentangling herself from Sabal. "We're leaving tomorrow for the surface. Something was stolen from Lloth and we're going to either recover or destroy it. Hopefully recover."
"Ah," the drow cleric said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall. "How exciting. Yvonnel did mention something about a trip, but if you're going up to the surface... I may be able to help. I have some maps of the tunnels and the area above ground that are unknown to Menzoberranzan at large. They belong—well, belonged—to House Baenre, but my wonderful Patron managed to acquire them covertly."
"You interrupted to tell us about maps?" Sabal said irritably. She touched her forehead to Aly's and closed her eyes, calming herself down. Her patience was thin at the moment, but Nedelyne was her only other true friend besides Aly, so she didn't want to lash out.
"Don't sulk. It's unbecoming of a woman of your position, Inquisitor," Nede said with amusement. "I also came to warn you. I did some scrying of my own after I had a few words with Yvonnel. The surfacers—faeries, mostly—have caught wind of something heading their way and they've mobilized some of their people in preparation. Skullport is full of spies and I advise you to take a route through the Spine of the World. I don't know if the stirrings that tipped them off were infernal or abyssal, but it will be problematic."
Sabal nodded, unbuckling her armor. She was grateful to get that warning as soon as possible despite the intrusion. It meant that she could spend the day preparing her equipment for combat against paladins and the like.
Alystin looked thoughtful. "It's possible that we might be able to use that. Make them into a distraction while we grab whatever the thief stole and run back below ground or something to that effect."
"Dangerous," the inquisitor commented as she laid out her armor on the living room floor piece by piece. "But possible."
"I thought you would appreciate an early warning. I'll see if I can dig up anything else useful," Nede said before pushing off of the wall and sauntering back to the door. "Have fun, you two."
Before Aly could complain about the intrusion, she was swept off her feet from behind. "You owe me a bath," Sabal said, amber eyes looking particularly intense at the moment as she smiled at the mage now held in her arms. It was part of her wild nature to be ruled by passions, and that was never more true than when she was with the wizard.
Alystin linked her arms around Sabal's neck and tilted her head so that she could run her tongue along the scar across her lover's throat. It was a promise of things to come that made Sabal shiver. Aly had more on her mind than bathing and she knew the same was true of the inquisitor. "My pleasure, ussta ssin," the wizard murmured with eyes alight.
Storunn eyed his two new traveling companions with a healthy amount of caution. Lirayne had vouched for Alystin and he'd even met the mage on several occasions. It was the feeling he got around the other drowess that made him uncomfortable, like he was dealing with a wild animal barely restrained by some invisible chain. That one was dangerous, and not so thoughtful or considerate as the noble. Sabal had too many rough, sharp edges for Storunn to be comfortable with her. "Yer friend don't seem real friendly," the dwarf said, jerking his head at Sabal. He was next to Aly, helping her secure their packs on the backs of their riding lizards. They were useful creatures here in the depths of the Underdark with their ability to both eat anything and bear weight. Storunn had grown up too close to the surface to really encounter such sturdy, short-tempered creatures. A baleful yellow eye glared at him as the creature turned its head to regard the shield dwarf. The only person they seemed timid around was Sabal, which only reinforced the dwarf's view of her.
"Sabal? She's not what I would call warm on first approach, no," Alystin admitted without qualm as she lashed her staff to her pack. She wouldn't really need it unless they got into a fight, and even then she could cast without it. "But she will have your back in any fight we get into, even if she is...displeased...at the moment. Give her some time. She'll come around."
Aly looked over to see amber eyes glaring at the pair of them. Sabal did not look amused by being the topic of discussion. The scarred drowess had been in a thunderous mood since they had arrived at Menzoberranzan's western gate. Rather than beginning their preparations at House Druu'giir or the barracks of the Yath'Abban, it had been decided that they would group together at the gates after they'd packed their bags individually. Sabal was buckling on her new armor, dark leather and dull adamantite scale meshing together in web-like patterns. Her concession to the mission was the absence of a symbol of Lloth, as Yvonnel didn't think drow armor would stand out for the time they remained in the Underdark. On the surface, she could acquire a new, human or elven set. The true battle was still being waged viciously between the inquisitor and Yvonnel, albeit in tones so hushed that Aly and Storunn couldn't hear. Alystin didn't need to, not after knowing Sabal for so long. This was about her sword, or as Sabal would have put it, Xullae's sword. The old battle-blade was scarred beyond belief, its rayskin grip worn away to almost smoothness despite the fact that it had been redone hundreds of times, but the symbol of Lloth worked into the metal where blade and crosshilt was as bold as the day it had been forged. The unpolished mithril of the hilt had to be smoked every now and again to hide the bright spots where contact with other blades had actually given the metal a shine. Even the simple onyx stone set into the pommel was chipped from impact with armored heads.
It was the one possession that Sabal prized above all others, dearer to her than anything else she owned. Yvonnel would have found it a much easier task if she were to pry it out of cold, dead fingers. Aly wanted to offer to disguise it, but she couldn't think of a good way to maintain that. If she had a few weeks and plenty of spell components, maybe. She approached her lover, noting the way Sabal practically bristled with anger. The argument had been raging for well over ten minutes, though it was clearly starting to reach critical mass. Both the inquisitor and the priestess had squared off, their expressions dark.
"...it puts you at risk, Sabal. It puts Aly at risk. Is that what you want?" Yvonnel was saying in a reasonable tone as Alystin came over, even though the cleric looked about ready to tear into Sabal with her fingernails. The priestess knew that demanding anything right now would only make things worse. "Traveling openly as a drow is one problem of its own. Don't complicate that with the problem that is being a worshiper of Lloth away from our realms."
"It has been with me in every battle since my first," Sabal argued, staying away from her true objection. She didn't want to ever give up anything that connected her to the woman who might as well have been her mother. It was the symbol of the legacy that had been passed down to her, the duty that rested now on her shoulders. Still, she was starting to budge and the cleric knew it.
Sabal didn't have to give her real reason for Yvonnel to know what it was. The Revered Daughter knew the wilder almost as well as Aly did and interacted with Sabal while on duty almost constantly. "It will be held for safe-keeping, Sabal. No one will harm it. If you do not trust me to secure it, then I will contact Matron Nedelyne. Do what is best for your mission and Alystin."
The inquisitor bared her teeth in a wordless snarl, but then she looked over at Aly. Her amber eyes were evaluating and just a touch worried. She unbuckled her swordbelt and slid the blade in its scabbard off the belt. "If it is so much as scratched, I will find you," Sabal said in a not so subtle threat, handing it carefully over to Yvonnel as if it were made of glass.
"Honestly, would you even be able to tell?" the priestess said a little irritably. She did, however, wrap the blade in black spidersilk with an attentive air. It was enough delicate handling that it seemed to put the undeniably tense inquisitor somewhat at ease. She was still probably going to be infuriated for the next few days, but she was reassured all the same. Yvonnel set it down and pulled out another sheathed blade, wrapped in canvas.
There was something beautiful about even a simple sword, Alystin decided as she saw Sabal slip the blade free to examine it. It was not as embellished or expensive as the weapon of a noble, but it possessed a quality of its own. The smoked mithril blade tapered from a keen point to a simple silver crosshilt, a rayskin grip with a twisted wire wrapped around it, and a silver scent-stopper pommel engraved with a single, half-open eye. It was a subtle nod to the Yath'Abban. Aly knew that the design would at least make Sabal happy. She liked her weapons and armor as simple as possible. It was lovely, efficient, elegant, and designed to perform its intended purpose perfectly...much like its new owner, as far as Aly was concerned.
Sabal checked the balance and turned the weapon over in her hands. It had a good feeling, she had to admit. It was obviously designed with the same pattern as all other Yath'Abban swords, its weight and edge comparable to her own. That was one thing she appreciated about her order: their weapons might have differed cosmetically, but each one had a base design identical to all other weapons of that type in use by the Yath'Abban. "It will do. Thank you, Revered Yvonnel," Sabal said quietly. She was still angry, but she knew life was unfair—and she certainly knew better than to bite this particular hand.
"Good," Yvonnel said before turning her gaze to Aly. She still had some reservations about the wizard, though she never told Sabal that. The Revered Daughter was a practiced enough liar that her skepticism didn't show. The only way the wilder might have caught wind of it would have been by using her powers, and Sabal wasn't foolish enough to try. "Was there anything else you needed? The caravan is coming now, so in a few minutes you will be able to fall in with them."
"I think we have everything," Aly said.
"Good. This is for you, from Matron Nedelyne," Yvonnel said, holding a ring out to Alystin. The wizard knew what it was. She'd asked for a ring of disguise because she hadn't been allowed the time to craft one of her own. It would take a few weeks before she could layer enough enchantments over this one to disguise its nature, but that would hardly be impossible.
Aly slipped the ring on and her form shimmered for a moment. When the effect faded, she was no longer an ebon-skinned drow. Her features had more roundness to them and were unmistakably human. She was still slender like an elf or a human girl, but the transformation was marked. Her white hair was now a rich brown and her skin was ashen white, but her silver eyes had at least stayed the same. That and her voice would be the only indication of who she was. There was a strange, almost pained look on Sabal's face when Aly turned to regard her lover. It was only there for a fraction of a second, then gone. It was something that would come up when they were alone in private, the wizard knew. "How do I look?" she asked.
"Human," Sabal said, sliding her belt through the loop of the scabbard before belting it back on. She knew she did not need to say that she far preferred Aly as herself—the wizard would know that already. This was an unpleasant necessity.
"Then that's a success," Alystin said. If Nede's gift was as effective as she hoped, this would shield her from the eyes of Asmodeus's followers, though likely not more powerful devils. A spell or potion of polymorph would have to be enough there.
"I have things to attend to," Yvonnel said with a sigh. She wasn't looking forward to dealing with House Baenre again, but someone with status had to do it. Ever since the apparition in the temple, the Matron Mother began poking her nose into Church business. Yvonnel knew she would be, in the very near future, telling Quenthel as politely as possible to fuck off. "But...good luck. You will need it."
"Your vote of confidence fills me with pride," Sabal said dryly. It earned her a warning glare from the priestess, but no retaliation. Everyone knew it was just the wilder's displeasure with her situation coming out in a less hostile way. It was for the best to just leave it lie.
"One of these days, she's going to slap you," Aly commented once Yvonnel was safely out of earshot.
Sabal shrugged. The idea didn't really upset her. Yvonnel had done it before, though for her own good rather than out of frustration.
Meanwhile, Storunn had finished up with the packs and clambered up onto the back of his riding beast. The lizard shifted underneath him, clearly not certain how it was going to handle a dwarf in heavy armor. It obviously wanted to shake him off, but Sabal had arrived just in time to batter it into submission with just her glare. Aly smothered a laugh with one hand before swinging up into the saddle. "Comfortable, Storunn?"
"I've had worse, lass," the dwarf grunted, smoothing a hand over his braided beard. "Let's just get moving, aye? Oh, and I'd wager ye'd rather not tell folks what ye be."
"Correct," Aly confirmed. "No need to draw additional suspicion. Sabal will be more than adequate when it comes to acquiring ire. Though better now that she doesn't look like an inquisitor."
The only thing Sabal had kept of her uniform was her crimson sash, something that wasn't too out of place. It looked fine enough for the servant of a noble, which Aly still very much appeared to be by her clothes. Those roles, of bodyguard and mistress, were the goals for their charade. Even Storunn didn't know that they were lovers and Alystin intended to keep it that way for as long as possible, hopefully for the whole duration of the trip. The last thing she wanted was for Storunn to let something slip to dangerous souls. Sabal shrouded the lower half of her face with dark fabric and made certain her white hair was all tucked back before pulling up her hood. It was her concession to Aly that she at least make it more difficult to ascertain her race from a distance.
"So ye plan to do a bit o' recruitin'?" the dwarf ventured as they approached the bustling trade caravan. There was such a mixture of non-drow races that they didn't even remotely stand out, though that likely would have been different if Sabal were completely obvious. Duergar gave him glares now and then when he passed them by, but the more timid svirfneblin seemed friendly enough. The hired guards were mostly hobgoblins and orcs, brutish figures in rough armor with lethal looking weapons. Storunn talked to Aly almost solely, mostly because Sabal was sinking into a sullen silence up on point. Whatever danger approached from the front would have to make its way through the amber-eyed drowess. Storunn didn't envy the poor sod who tried that.
"Hopefully," Alystin said. She wasn't certain she would be comfortable interacting with the lesser races, but she needed to at least pretend she was. After all, she was human and not drow right now. "We need more allies. Asmodeus is a powerful fiend and his servants will have influence in Waterdeep, no matter how noble the city."
Storunn chuckled a little bit, amused by the drowess's lack of knowledge regarding the surface. "Waterdeep's a lot of things, lass, but noble ain't one of them."
D'anthe - dear
Ussta ssin - my beauty