Thraele followed the permanently cowed svirfneblin slave through the halls of House Barrison Del'Armgo, well aware that the mere construction of the place was meant to strike awe into her heart. It was a marvel of engineering, a fortress few could ever hope to assail, but the inside was palatial. But the beauty of fountains and tapestries and art worked into the walls and the floor was largely lost on the thrall, in a strange way. One might have expected her to be impressed or overwhelmed. Instead, she was focused mostly on watching to see who watched her. The effect of the place was slightly less compelling after Nek's expansive lecture on the hubris of drow nobles. Apparently this was fairly typical for most houses.

Most of the servants and slaves scurried about on their missions, but one or two peered in her direction. She made note of them as best she could without giving away that she was watching back. Sindyrrith had told her that being cautious would pay dividends and it was advice she'd taken to heart.

"Please wait here, Mistress," the slave said quietly, motioning for her to wait in the hall while he vanished into Lythrana's quarters to inform the woman that there was a visitor waiting.

A moment later there was a bang and a tall, lithe woman came stalking out of the door to Lythrana's quarters. She curled her lip at Thraele, who had stepped to the side to allow the drowess unobstructed passage into the rest of the house. If the former thrall had to guess, she would say noble despite the armor. The slave who had been her guide appeared, looking a little bit frightened, but on his heels was another drow woman in a silvery spidersilk dress. Lythrana was a pretty woman with ink-stained fingers and troubled red eyes, with broader hips than average for a drow and a fuller bust. "I apologize for my sister," the drow noble said softly. "Tathlyn isn't the most thoughtful person in the world when she's in a mood. Normally she has manners."

"No offense taken," Thraele said with a faint smile. "Revered Lythrana, we take it?"

"Yes," the noble said. She turned the slave. "You may go now."

He scurried off and Lythrana motioned for Thraele to head into her study. The priestess followed her in and closed the door behind them. "Thank you for coming, Thraele. It's unfortunate Sindyrrith is caught up in business, but I suppose that's a hazard of working with Bregan D'aerthe," she said softly. "I hope the mission wasn't too difficult. I imagine a lone slave doesn't put up much of a fight."

Lythrana's study was packed with enough books, written in a dozen different languages, to make a wizard turn green with envy. A few were open on her desk and so was a small journal with pages written in a neat handwriting. She could see diagrams and designs of weapons and other devices, perhaps siege weapons. Most of the books actually looked mundane, though there were a fair number on magical theory. There were histories of military campaigns and strategies, but most of it seemed to be focused on engineering and craftsmanship in the vein of metallurgy or enchantments. Lythrana's was a mechanical mind. Other people saw blank metal, but she saw gears and devilishly clever artifices.

"We had no trouble," Thraele said, carefully opening up the small bag she'd brought with her and producing the bracelet. She knew they were right when Lythrana's face lit up at just the sight of it. She reached out and took it from the former thrall carefully, almost as if she thought her touch might break it.

"I'd thought that when Ilmrae took it, I would never see it again," Lythrana said, turning it over in her hands. She sat down, smiling a little bit at it. "Thank you for this."

"It's quite special to you," Thraele commented. "Would you mind if we inquired as to why?"

"It's a rarity, maybe the only one of its kind left, though the magic mostly faded centuries ago. It was a gift from the Patron, something he found out in some ruins when he was a young and adventurous type," the noble said quietly. Lythrana had spent a lot of time with Uthegental when he was alive. There was no guarantee that he was her father—Mez'Barris had no incentive to stay loyal to one male, other than the natural security concerns—but he had treated Lythrana with a certain level of fondness that he didn't offer her sisters. The priestess smiled, but humorlessly. "Ilmrae certainly enjoyed taking it. She's a petty creature, cruel for cruelty's sake. It was a rare stroke of luck that the grimlock stole it from her on his way out."

"Well, she wanted it back," Thraele said. "We encountered her duergar. The meeting was less enjoyable for them than it was for us."

"Good," Lythrana said with a hint of satisfaction. "Now, what favor did you and Sindyrrith want from me? I already paid her the gold she asked for."

Thraele paused for a moment. This would be placing a little more of herself into the hands of fate than she would have liked, but Sindyrrith had suggested that they gamble a little bit. According to the agent, there wasn't a lot of love lost between Lythrana and the current Patron. "We would like a key," she said quietly. "One that opens the door to the Patron's quarters."

Lythrana considered this for a little while, studying Thraele intently. "I'd ask you if you mean to kill him, but honestly I'd be glad to see him dead," she said quietly. "And a deal is a deal." She reached into her desk and withdrew a small, silver key. Thraele could feel the magic emanating from it. "This will allow you access into his chambers, but I will need it back. His quarters a little further down the hall, two doors down to the left. And when you return, I may have another favor to ask of you. A large one, but a compensated one, of course. Go now. He's at the arena with the Matron. They may be back at any time, though."

Thraele took the key and gave Lythrana a small smile. "A pleasure doing business," she said. Once she'd exited the study, her steps became so soft they were inaudible and she kept to the shadows, dodging the notice of the occasional servant.

The key worked as promised. The moment she slipped it into the door, she felt powerful wards flicker and then vanish at the same time as she undid the mechanical lock. That was a relief—she wouldn't have been able to force it or pick it without triggering alarms. She stepped into the Patron's lavish quarters quietly, careful to make certain she wasn't seen. This was clearly owned by someone who enjoyed all the luxury that came with status, which made sense. Patrons, from what she could tell, were powerful men. Unfortunately, with that power came the obligation to serve as the Matron's favorite whipping boy and plaything. She began her search with an expert air. She didn't know how she knew where to look, but she found herself inspecting drawers and feeling for hidden compartments so swiftly and naturally that she knew this was a definite part of her life before this one. Finally, she found it: a drawer that wasn't as deep as it should have been. Thraele drew the slim blade she wore on the outside of her thigh and used it to pry open the false bottom. Underneath it were a series of envelopes. She didn't open the unsealed envelopes, at least not yet, and took them with her as they were.

As she turned around, a female figure detached from the shadows. "I've been waiting for you," a soft, melodic voice said. "Or at least, for a spy." A voluptuous human woman stepped out of the shadows, but she smelled of the Abyss. Succubus. A guardian left by the Patron, no doubt. He was supposedly a wizard of considerable power. "It's really a shame. You're a pretty one. The fun we could have…"

Thraele felt a faint chill and minutely adjusted her grip on her dagger. "We have what we came for," she said. "We have no interest in combat."

"But you'll stay with me," the succubus purred, layering its syllables with a charm effect. The creature frowned, looking confused. "Your mind—"

The moment Thraele realized it was trying to touch her thoughts, she lunged forward with the blade in hand. She drove it down behind the creature's collarbone like an icepick. The demon screamed, but Thraele was fairly confident that the wards had at least dampened the sound. Claws raked Thraele's armor, but didn't pierce it. She would have to thank Nek later. "Stay out of our head," the drowess hissed. She yanked the knife out and drove it into the succubus's shoulder, damaging the joint. Apparently her shattered mind was more difficult to control, Deu'ra's cruelty turning to her advantage.

The demon went for her face, so she recoiled back and flipped the blade in her hand so she no longer had it in a reverse grip. She kept her weapon hand back so the succubus couldn't grab it. "I will not die to you, broken-mind," the demon hissed, tail slashing the air angrily. It lunged.

Thraele twisted, stepping off line and stabbing hard into the creature's back as it missed her. She hit the spine, adamantine blade severing it. The succubus dropped to the floor. Before she could think, it had changed forms. Now, lying broken on the ground, was Alassëa.

"Help me," it whispered in the elf's voice.

"We know what you are," Thraele said. She drove the knife down into its face. The moment the creature died, it evaporated as if it had never been there, save for the pool of black demon blood on the floor. Dresmorlin would know the creature was gone the moment he stepped back into his chambers, but that couldn't be helped. Thraele wiped off her blade on a square of cloth she'd brought with her and then tucked the cloth back in a pouch on her belt. She slipped out of the bedroom the way she'd come.

It wasn't a difficult task, obtaining these letters. Why were they so valuable that someone was willing to pay 10,000 gold for them? Thraele was puzzled. She knew that opening the envelopes could be incredibly dangerous. But maybe it was worth it. Her curiosity was burning.

The priestess was waiting for her when Thraele returned to her quarters. Lythrana raised an eyebrow. "You wanted letters? I'm somewhat disappointed," she said with a small smile. She noticed the claw-marks in the leather of Thraele's armor, but didn't say anything. It was impressive—she knew that Dresmorlin had something guarding his rooms while he was away. Apparently it hadn't been too much of a challenge for this strange rogue.

Thraele presented her with the small silver key. "Your assistance is appreciated," she said. "You wanted to negotiate another deal?" Thraele wasn't certain if she could get Sindyrrith a good deal, but she could attempt to bargain.

"Yes," Lythrana said softly. "I know it will be a lot to ask, as far as time and dedication. I need protection. My sisters have unpleasant friends. I can defend myself well, but that's not good enough when people have nothing better to do than try to kill you."

"You want a bodyguard," Thraele said.

"Yes, though a more subtle one," Lythrana said softly. "I need an ally who won't turn on me the moment Ilmrae or one of the others dangles gold in front of them or promises sweet things. I can reward you. Sindyrrith has a good reputation for following through on her jobs, for not double-crossing her employers. At least, not often. I hope you share her professionalism. Please, at least consider it. The offer is open to both you and Sindyrrith."

Thraele considered this. She had protected Deu'ra from threats and him she hated. Lythrana was more tolerable by far. Perhaps it wouldn't be unwise to take her up on her offer. Either way, however, it was something better discussed with Sindyrrith first. The agent knew more about what was going on in Menzoberranzan than even Nek did. She would know exactly how dangerous this deal would be. At least, as much as anyone ever could. "We will consider it and discuss," Thraele said. "Is that everything, Revered Lythrana?"

"Yes. Thank you for your time," Lythrana said with a little nod.

Thraele left Barrison Del'Armgo's compound as quietly as she could. She made it a few streets down before she opened the first of the unsealed envelopes and gingerly pulled out the contents. Each one was page after page of letter. They were heated letters that spoke of resentment and romance at the same time. Apparently Mez'Barris wasn't the only one who wandered, but knowing how Matrons were, Dresmorlin would be in a very unpleasant position if his own affair were to come to light. A lethal one, even. Blackmail of the most valuable variety. In her hands was the power to break someone. Could she accept a small fortune in exchange for completely ruining a man?

Thraele slid the letters back into their envelopes and headed to Sindyrrith's home. It wasn't just her decision, after all. The others had stakes in it too. In the end, she knew she would do what pleased them. She was paying her debt still.


"It would probably be a good gig for you. I've got other things on my hands with Bregan D'aerthe, so I can't, but maybe you should," Sindyrrith said thoughtfully, tipping back in her seat at the kitchen table. Her house was a small one on the outskirts of Menzoberranzan with a nice view of the lake, probably expensive but—as the woman herself put it—certainly worth it to avoid the press of the city. "You'd be busy as hell. There's a lot of competition for the position of Matron Mother of Menzoberranzan's second house. Steady work, though, and Lythrana is very timely about paying the help. At least me, anyway."

"Yeah, but do you have the letters?" Nek said as he serviced his crossbow. It was a simple piece of svirfneblin engineering, but he was replacing the string with a new spidersilk, one courtesy of Sindyrrith, and cleaning the dirt out of the mechanism. "I mean, hypothetical and future gold is good, but certain and present gold is better."

"We have them," Thraele said softly, producing the envelopes. She'd bound them together with string to form a small package. "They have the power to bring ruin to Dresmorlin. Is that what we truly wish?"

"Giving it to someone is no guarantee they're going to use it," Malagos said. Alassëa was the only person missing, currently headed up towards the surface with a new initiate into Eilistraee's clergy. "Besides, Dresmorlin is not exactly a friendly man to our allies, Thraele."

"Your allies," Thraele said. "We do not know them. Nor do we know Dresmorlin enough to hate him."

"Oh, give him about five minutes. That's all you'll need," Sindyrrith said dryly. "But point taken. I understand qualms of conscience, rare though they may be in me. I promise you that you're doing more good than harm in this, Thraele. Plus, there's good money in it. You'll want that and I don't think you can afford to be too picky, right now."

"Lythrana will pay us as a bodyguard," Thraele pointed out.

"Never put your faith only in a single web," the drow agent advised. "That coin is a toe in the exit door, if you don't blow through it. If I were you, I'd keep it in case anything ever goes wrong with Lythrana. She seems nice enough, but when push comes to shove…well, you can't trust a queen to have your back when the moves to checkmate are made. Not if you're just a pawn. Don't get me wrong, though: Lythrana's offer is a good one. Just, you know, be ready."

Thraele reluctantly handed Nek the envelopes. The deep gnome slapped her on the back. "You won't regret it, girly," he said with a grin. "You're going places and coin is never a bad thing to have if you're headed to the top."

"Careful, Nek," Sindyrrith said quietly. "Throw promises like that around and you're liable to put out an eye. Thraele, take a walk with me. I can tell you a little bit more about the nobles of Barrison Del'Armgo. You'll want to know what you're walking int—hello, Inquisitor. I didn't realize I'd left the door open." Sindyrrith didn't even flinch or bat an eye, despite her heretical views and checkered past and the fact that the door had been locked. She was an old hand at this particular game.

Thraele turned to see a familiar face. She hadn't forgotten those blue eyes. "Nalfein Zaphresz," she said by way of greeting, bowing her head to him. It was good to see someone familiar, even if he did make Nek tense up uncomfortably.

A pleasantly surprised look flashed across his face. "Mistress Thraele," he greeted, swiftly giving her a little bow.

"You know him?" Nek said, confused.

"We saw him in Gracklstugh," Thraele said by way of explanation.

Sindyrrith's lips quirked up at one corner into a sort of half-smile. "Ah, Inquisitor Zaphresz, the newly minted one. Last I recall, my current partners in business and your mistress have a certain understanding, so I am of course in a helpful mood. Whatever can I do for you? Unless, of course, this is a social call. In which case, please, have a seat."

"Lady Imrae of House Barrison Del'Armgo made a complaint to the Church about you, Mistress Tuin. She claims you are working counter to the interests of Lloth."

"She has a high opinion of herself if she believes her will and the Spider Queen's are synonymous," Thraele commented. Sindyrrith had warned her that some of the nobles could be particularly haughty and vociferous in their complaints if thwarted, so this wasn't a huge surprise.

Nalfein grinned. "I don't disagree," he said. "But all the same, I have been asked to convey to you the Revered Daughter's message to you."

Sindyrrith's expression was all polite, innocent interest. "Do go on," she said.

"She said, and I quote, Tell Tuin to either stop whatever she's doing so Ilmrae stops bothering me or do whatever she's doing so hard that Ilmrae pops a coronary and dies of apoplexy," Nalfein reported. "She was less than thrilled with the interruption into her daily prayers."

"I can see that," Sindyrrith said. She looked pleased despite the fact that she normally avoided inquisitors and the Church like the plague. She knew the Revered Daughter by reputation more than any intimate friendship. It was better to keep things that powerful at a distance, in her humble opinion. It was the same reason she never worked directly through Matrons. Displeasure there meant death at best. "Still, it's always good to know that she's keeping a sense of humor about it. Thank you, Inquisitor. Thraele, you should go give Lythrana your answer sooner rather than later. Don't want her to go shopping somewhere else."

"Shall I walk with you, Mistress Thraele?" Nalfein asked politely. "It's on my way back to the Yath'Abban."

"Good idea," Sindyrrith said thoughtfully, studying Thraele for a moment. "Our mutual acquaintance doesn't know the city too well yet, so if you could remedy that, it would be appreciated."

Thraele gave the agent a quizzical look, but she didn't read anything but sincerity in the woman's expression. Not that she was disappointed to be going with Nalfein. "Of course," she said before standing up and following him out of the door.

"You have interesting acquaintances," Nalfein said once they were outside. He knew that Sindyrrith had been accused of heresy multiple times. It just never quite stuck. The woman was something of a legend among the servants of Lloth as a survivalist. Her latest alignment with Bregan D'aerthe promised to shut down a lot of those questions, even if she wasn't a member proper of the organization. He didn't know anything much about the deep gnome or the half orc, but he knew the types. They all but screamed 'mercenary'. "They say you can tell a lot about someone by the company they keep."

Thraele raised an eyebrow. "Is that a warning?" she asked mildly.

"Just an observation," he said with a shrug. "But then again, you are an adventurer. That makes for strange bedfellows."

She laughed.

They talked about the city for a good ten minutes of the walk, Nalfein leading the way down side streets and back alleys. Beggars and servants cleared a path for him, and her by extension. However, Thraele knew there was an unspoken question.

"What did you want to ask?" she said finally as they neared House Barrison Del'Armgo.

Nalfein stopped and turned to face her. "Do you know Lady Lythrana?" he asked almost hopefully. There was something in his eyes that she thought she'd seen before, somewhere else. It would take her time to place it.

"We may be her bodyguard in the near future," Thraele said. "Why?"

The inquisitor shrugged his shoulders. "Just curious," he said. His eyes, however, were saying something else. "We should talk again if you're going to stay in Menzoberranzan. The city can be overwhelming and sometimes it's nice to have a familiar face around."

Thraele nodded. "We would like that," she said quietly.

"Then I'll see you later," Nalfein said with a smile. He gave her a slight bow in farewell. "Be careful, Thraele. Guarding nobles is a dangerous line of work."

It struck her when he walked away that Nalfein was the only person who hadn't asked her why she talked the way she did. She wasn't certain what to make of that, but in its own way, it was strangely comforting. One less person she had to explain herself and her situation to, at least.