A/N: Next chapter is here: it brings a lot of things about! Characterization, the next big adventure, some dialogue and some scenes that are completely Yria. Hope you like it. As always, your thoughts are welcome.

Future Markets

Four pairs of unblinking, unbelieving eyes stared out at Yria.

The Seer sat down and sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose. Imloth looked shocked. Valen doubted whether he should laugh or kill the surfacer; he settled into snorting. Nathyrra seethed, her eyes dangerously narrowed.

"Well? What are you looking at? Do we have a plan or not?"

"I told you not to take part in drow politics. You know nothing of their customs. Of their cunning demeanor! Of their ruthlessness! How could you take such a job, when the Seer, when the whole Lith My'atar depends on you?" Valen growled.

Yria's smirk froze, and she sighed.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" she looked at the four figures in front of her. "Gosh, there's three cunning ruthless drow who cannot put their heads together to figure out my actions? And you, Valen? A tiefling must not be all that naive, surely!" Silence. "Oh well. Come on, think a little. The Valsharess knows we're moving. Why else would she take an interest in the river just now?"

"That proves nothing! Nothing at all! There're a hundred reasons, including sheer chance, which could have turned out like that!" Valen didn't allow himself to be pacified, and even took a step ahead.

Yria thought that he was going to actually hit her before Imloth spoke up.

"Are you implying that I've had a spy under my nose unnoticed for this long?"

The girl held up her hands, trying to stop the oncoming ire.

"Calm down! Commander, the spy was not under your nose. It was within Maeviir House, and from what little I've seen in the camp that is something entirely different. You don't even train your troops together! And I know that the attack on the patrol was no proof." She smiled again, brightly, "That was the whole point!"

Both Imloth and Valen made to comment, but the Seer stopped them by raising a hand.

"I do not see this situation any clearer than you do, my friends. However, the goddess cannot be wrong in her vision and she prophesized Yria as the Valsharess' doom. We must believe in the goddess, and so we must believe in her. Let her explain her actions, and perhaps this confidence shall be proved worthy."

"Okay, let me go step by step. House Maeviir might have betrayed us or might have been loyal, but it cannot be denied that her troops and her nobles were being a bit of a pain in the behind; correct?" She waited till she got nods of confirmation from her audience. "We have the certainty that the new Matron will be cooperative. And that is good."

"And just why are you so certain?" Nathyrra asked.

Yria gave her a look, as if she didn't believe that she had to explain a plot to a drow, and her countenance became serious.

"Because, dear Nathyrra, she has seen that I need no proof. Perhaps what she said was true and she is, and will remain, devoted to the cause. Or perhaps it was just cunning drow politics, as Valen here points out. My actions might have given confidence to an ally, or not. Whatever House Maeviir as a whole thinks is unimportant to me. Zessyr, now... What she has seen is pretty much the same thing as Valen: a reckless, crazy surfacer who needs little to no incitement to pounce on an 'ally'. And that is good because while the Valsharess is marching on us, I am already here. The new Matron will make sure that the loyalties of House Maeviir are clear and undivided now. Just in case."

The chamber went silent once again, as Yria's words died out and everybody assimilated them. When Imloth spoke up, his tone was barely above that of a whisper.

"Thought like a drow", he said. "I am not sure if that is a compliment or not, though."

"I'll take it as one", said Yria graciously, "and now, can we please move on with our Defeat The Evil Drow plan?"

"Do you still wish to acquire more support?" Valen broke his silence. "Do you still wish to visit Shaori's Fell now?"

Yria fought with herself. Visibly. She wanted to explore the mysterious city and get her hands on whatever artifact had produced such a place overnight... But all of her senses screamed against the idea. If they were running short of time, it would be more logical to try to weaken the enemy now. After all, what use did she have for trinkets if she was going to be dead a mere tenday after getting them? Her survival chances, the rebel's survival chances, increased if they tried to take out some support from the mighty foe.

After an interminable moment's struggle, her brain gained the battle over her greed.

"Nathyrra? What is your report after scouting the city's environs?"

The sorceress had taken a night to rest at Lith My'athar, and the first hour of the next cycle had seen the eclectic group walking out the gates of the city. She had taken Deekin and Valen with her. Nathyrra had escorted them part of the way, but when they had faced the long corridor leading to their destination, she had stayed behind in the main cave to keep on scouting.

No amount of stealth could have served the drow against the beholders, and so it had been understood by them all that the assassin would be more useful to Imloth and his intelligence gathering than to the mission at hand.

When the human and her two companions had emerged at the end of the long winding tunnel, they had found a chasm separating them from the gaping mouth of a cave. Only a small pillar of shinning crafted quartz had clued them in to the fact that, indeed, the cave was populated.

Yria crept forwards to the edge of the chasm and stared hard at the pillar.

After a while, she realized that she could see rudely carved runes and certain marks in the polished surface. Frowning in concentration, she punched one of the runes and cringed, almost expecting a discharge.

None came.

She looked again, and saw how the marks had moved. She smiled.

"I think I've got it", she turned to Valen and Deekin. "See these marks here? They can be moved... by punching these runes here like this... And now if we get them in a certain position... probably in a straight line... something like this... and then if we activate them by..."

Valen caught her hand before she could give her suspicions the final test.

"Do you actually know what you're doing?"

"Ah... Nope."

"Thought so", the tiefling sighed. "Wait a moment. I need to talk to you... before you risk the abrupt end of our lives by trial and error usage of beholderkin artifacts."

Yria gave a longing look to said artifact, but acquiesced by turning away from it and facing the planar.

"Sure. You want to make a confession of your undying love for me, just in case we're about to die?"

Valen, who had been trying to gather his own thoughts, gave her a withering look. Yria held up her hands, and smiled roguishly, as if saying 'geez, you have no sense of humor', but eventually allowed the man space to say whatever he needed to say.

"I want..." the tiefling started, caught himself short, and tried again. "I need to know how you did it. Dealing with Matron Maeviir, I mean. You've proven to be quite the weakling, no offence meant, so I can't see how you dispatched her and her weapons master just like that... And", he gave her a stern glare, "if you give me any of that 'resourceful woman' crap this time..."

Yria chuckled at that, fighting to keep her chortles low, and tilted her head to the side.

"Well... it does sound much better if I don't explain the small details, you know. But since you asked, I'll let you know that Myrune was poorly prepared to fend off a physical attack. And that Tebimar could not hit me if he could not see me."

"You are ill fitted to perform a physical attack, too."

Yria took the jab in stride and shrugged, still smiling widely.

"True. Unfortunately for her, fire elementals are wicked with the whole clawing-your-innards-out-of-you business."

"So... a fire elemental? ... Must have been an old one."

"Yeah."

"And... Tebimar?"

"Well..." Yria hid her eyes behind her bangs, and tried to look contrite. She didn't manage to pull it off. "He was so used to jumping and obeying every female-issued order, that he couldn't help but die when I told him to do just so."

Valen shivered slightly, not letting it show. This child could command someone to die? And more worrisome: she spoke of it as if it was the most casual thing to do. Perhaps it was a pity that she hadn't died in the assault to the Isle of the Maker... He'd have to keep a closer eye on her.

"One last question..." he said, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling of being observed and blaming the weirdo he had as a partner for it. "Why didn't you accept the payment, if you've even gotten money from the Seer herself to do what you have to do anyway?"

Yria looked taken aback. She fumbled, stuttered, and attempted to turn back to the pillar to activate it. Valen caught her shoulder and forced her to look at him. She was worrying her lower lip, and wouldn't meet his eyes. After the silence stretched for a few awkward heartbeats, she answered.

"It was part of my plan, of course. This way, she knows that I don't even need someone to employ me in order to remove her if she proves treacherous as her mother did."

Valen let her go with a frown, and thought that it had indeed been a plan worthy of the drow. Because she had answered the truth, hadn't she?

Had she?

The sorceress' fingers grazed the marks, and the quartz started pulsating with a deep purplish energy. Ever so slowly, a bridge – no, the shadow of a bridge – started unfolding itself and stretching all the way across the chasm, straight to the cave's entrance.

Yria let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"Umm... Boss?"

"Yeah, Deekin?"

"Why do we needs to cross huge shadowy translucent bridge, Boss? Why cannot we go and fights with the... the octopuses-headed evil guys, Boss?"

"Translucent? I didn't know kobolds knew such big words", muttered Valen.

"Deekin is big kobold bard, you knows. Deekin writes a whole epic book with Boss in it before, and sells bunch of bunches of copies. Deekin obviously needs to know big words! But that does not answer Deekin's question, Boss."

"It's because we can fight the oct- the Mind Flayers with the help of the golems, but we have no way to fight the beholders: they are a more immediate treat to us now", Yria threw a nasty look Valen's way for picking on the poor kobold and her out her hand for the scaly bard to take. "Come on, we will cross the bridge so quickly you won't even have time to realize your feet have left solid ground."

Deekin held onto her hand and clutched his small harp with the other.

"Boss? That last comment didn't help Deekin at all, Boss."

The trio started crossing the force field, not noticing how some deep shadows had deeper shades in them.

Upon reaching their destination, they realized that beyond the cave entrance there was no such a thing as a cave. There was a passage. Eventual rock outcrops served as walls here and there, and the uneven floor went from five scarce feet wide to about a dozen, but mostly it was flanked by empty, dark nothing; a warm, unnatural breeze blew from the depths lining the way to the beholder's lair, bringing a dusty scent with it.

Somehow, the passage felt alien and barren even in such a barren, alien place as the Underdark.

Yria looked around.

"Just what do these beholders behold, anyway?"

Valen glanced her way to see if she actually expected an answer. Apparently she did.

"The name has more to do with how many eyes they have than with what use they put them to."

"Oh." The sorceress gave it some thought, then shrugged and stepped forward. "Makes sense. There's nothing to see here, much less to behold..."

When Valen entered the next beholder room, he was growing increasingly wary. They had already barged through three rooms and had run along as many corridors, but they had found nothing. Never mind how much he hated it; he was feeling the need to agree with the currently whining sorceress at his back. There was something extremely odd about the whole situation, other than the oppressive air and the slimy, cylindrical corridors. Unless the hive was so big that the outer chambers were not necessary used...

He turned to share this new insight with Yria when they heard Deekin's raspy voice calling out in a rather loud whisper.

"Boss? You might wants to see this, Boss."

Planar and human shared a look and carefully crept to the dark corner or the room from where Deekin's voice came.

There, hidden and terrified, was a... a kobold?

Yria frowned and knelt by Deekin's side, thinking back to the old days at Hilltop and of how she had handled the kobold tribe. She started talking in a soothing voice.

"Hey there, scaly one. Don't be afraid, we're no beholders, see? We got legs. We don't want to hurt you". The small kobold seemed slightly less frantic, and Yria moved on to the next stage. "Okay, what is your name? Come on, you can tell me... We won't let the..."

"Boss? Deekin thinks she's not gonna answer, Boss."

Yria tried to keep calm, so as not to scare the small creature before her who seemed to trust her about as far as it could fling her – taking size into account, not much.

"I know Deekin. I'm trying though, because there's some useful information we could be getting, you know?"

"Ah... No, you sees, Boss... Deekin thinks she won't answer because she's gots no tongue to answers with..."

Yria paled and looked back at the huge watery eyes of the scrawny kobold.

"What?"

The sorceress had no way to measure time, and so she didn't really know how long it was from the moment they found the kobold slave to the moment in which she sent a roaring ball of flames through a door into the private meeting of a delegation from the Valsharess, but she thought that it had not been a short enough time.

Probably thanks to Deekin's presence, they had managed to be led to the slave's leader: a single kobold out of hundreds who still kept its tongue and its ability to communicate. With the bard acting as an interpreter, they had learnt of the day-to-day cruelty of the beholder masters. They had also learnt why most of the hive was deep into the labyrinth of tunnels, all of them gathered around their eye tyrant: a delegation of dark elves had come.

The Valsharess was scared, and was moving her pawns to be able to strike quickly.

Deekin had persuaded the kobold slaves to sketch the tunnels in the dirt for them, and to mark where the drow and where the eye tyrant were. Then, Yria had given them a few minutes to gather around far away from the area, in as discreet a manner as possible.

While the scaly creatures scurried off to warn their kin that they should hide without drawing attention, she had waited going over her spells and which ones she should use.

Then, when the slave leader and looked anxiously at her and nodded his small head emphatically, she had sprung into action, rushing along the corridors towards the drow's room. Valen, having the blank of the Seer's tribulations so close at hand, hadn't even needed encouragement. Even Deekin, peeved by the evil ways of the beholders towards their slaves, had followed suit.

When the sorceress had reached the door to the delegation's chambers, she had forgotten her reviewed spells and her plans. She had just wanted to blast them into oblivion.

This explained why she fell back into her signature spell, and why she poured so much power into it that when she let it fly, the whole room beyond the melted door was rendered an inferno.

Heat waves flew out the door gap carrying black smoke with them, and a cacophony of screams greeted Valen when he made to enter. Sweat broke in his body, and he had to close his eyes against the stinging dryness as he plunged. He knew before opening them that no amount of spell resistance could have saved the gathered drow.

Sure enough, only a figure stood: a Red Sister, surely – the elite group serving the Valsharess. Half her face was scorched beyond recognition, all her snowy hair gone, and her body was being wracked by pain spasms. When Valen swung his flail at her, he felt more like a farmer putting a sheep out of its misery than like a warrior felling a foe.

However, he barely had time to consider the damage that had been done to the surroundings, as Yria urged him forward.

"Come on! Surely all that screaming put them on alert now! We must not give them time to prepare."

And so the tiefling rushed forth, sticking to the route outlined to them by the slaves. He passed a few doors and took the left fork of a bifurcation, and charged the door at the end of that one corridor with his armored shoulder.

He quickly assessed the new room – indeed, it seemed to be the antechamber they were seeking – and leaped to the side, keeping his back to the wall. Yria came in hot on his heels, arcane words flowing freely from her lips in a rushed litany. Her right hand had produced five flaming rays and had sent them into one of the creatures before the other three had truly realized that the intruders were there.

The aberrations turned they main, huge central eyes their way and started casting they own destructive magic. An array of magic missiles was sent Valen's way, but somehow they disappeared before hitting their mark. With a set look on his face, Deekin stuffed away his magical Horn or Dispelling, pulled out his light crossbow and neatly put a bolt into the eye of the beholder, all in one fluid movement.

The tiefling lunged forward, refusing to stop to think about the kobold's unexpected display and catching the distracted creature with a left to right swing that mashed the socket of the floating eye. Unable to use its magic anymore, it screeched and attempted to bite the warrior. Valen ducked and came up behind it, swinging his flail again at the back of the beholder. Gore spilled out of the wound, and the battered thing tried to fly away; but it was so weak that when a second bold imbedded itself into the remains of its central eye, its carcass floundered down.

Mere fractions of a minute later, a second beholder fell, sliced to pieces by a floating, unmanned glittering sword.

The sorceress was so deep in concentration that she didn't even move when the last aberration conjured up yet another ray attack to send her way. She kept on whispering her spell, as if she hadn't been hit – Valen had to wonder if she had actually absorbed the attack – and pointed the sword to its next target.

The fiery blade dissolved into thin air a second later. The evading maneuver of the beholder had brought it straight in line for a formidable hit by Devil's Bane spiked head.

Yria grinned at Valen.

"That wasn't so difficult"

The tiefling rolled his eyes.

"That was four beholders. Wait till we face the rest of the hive and the eye tyrant."

"... ... Spoilsport."

Indeed, the ensuing battle had not been easy. Valen was still wondering how they had survived even as he tried to bandage Yria's right shoulder.

"There's really no need for all that fuss", she said, batting his hands away as he tried to secure his work. "It is not so big a wound, it's not as if I were going to bleed out, is it?"

The sorceress had been bitten by one of the creatures. Luckily, it hadn't been the enormous eye tyrant, but still the sharp teeth had left quite deep cuts into her flesh. Valen had to admire her for her will power if nothing else: she had been able to finish the spell she had been chanting, even with half of her upper body trapped in the mouth of the aberration.

"Stop moving", he chastised her. "You could lose the ability to use the arm if I don't tie this properly."

It wasn't necessarily true, but it worked marvels at stopping her complaints. When he was done, he sat back on his heels and searched her face. He tossed some words around in his head, deciding on how to thank her for her impressive job of dispelling the beholder's rays almost as quickly as they could produce them and before they could hit him. After all, once deprived of their magic, even if it was just for the blink of an eye, the beholders had been quick work for his skill in wielding the heavy flail. That had been one of the main reasons they were alive and kicking, albeit badly beaten, after the battle.

The other reason had been the absurd architectural technique of the beholders themselves, which had provided them with plenty of dead angles to hide before and after every attack.

His gratitude, however, got lost on the way from his brain to his mouth when a certain kobold interrupted him.

"Boss? There's nothing valuable to be found here, Boss."

Yria threw her head back and stared at the ceiling, as if trying not to lose her composure.

"Dang. Dang, dang, and one hundred thousand times dang. You mean that I underwent this whole ordeal for nothing at all? You can't be serious!"

"Well... perhaps nice drows had some shiny nice stuff. But Boss charred them and now everything is charred and black and... and useless, Boss!" Deekin whined.

Yria breathed deeply to calm herself.

It didn't work. She tried it again a few times. Finally, she staggered to her feet and dusted off her clothes.

"Well... well, okay. So there's no treasure. I killed off a whole hive of beholders for nothing. That's not that bad, is it? It means that these things won't side with the Valsharess, so they won't bite my ass in the final battle..."

"Because they already did it, Boss?"

"Yeah... I mean, no! No, because I already kicked theirs. And now... now let's head back to Lith My'athar, right? We'll regroup, and rest... and chose our next target more wisely..."

Valen stepped up to her, looking genuinely concerned.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah", she said, taking a few clumsy steps. "Yeah, I'll be fine; I just need a decent night's sleep. Let's just go back, okay?"

Valen nodded and the trio slowly made their way out of the beholder's hole. When they reached the passage, however, he had the prickly sensation of being observed. He was going to comment on it when he felt Yria relax almost forcibly and give a spring to her step that he knew she lacked the energy to maintain for long. Deekin moved himself by her side, as if seeking her protection – or as if ready to help her if her fake strength went away. Valen tensed, and although he was worried he couldn't say that he was surprised when an elite drow patrol detached itself from the shadows.

They had been ambushed.

"So", the leader, a dangerous looking male, addressed them in perfect common, "you are the one who is bothering our Mistress so, Yria Ingerd." He snorted. "I must confess, I was expecting something more impressive."

Yria's face had dropped any hint of weariness, and the act was so good that Valen had to think if she'd been faking her own distress earlier. She was smiling her childish smile, the one that, for all its innocence, managed to send shivers up the spines of friends and foes alike.

"Truly! But I think I am quite impressive, if I may say so myself."

The elf's handsome face twisted in an expression of disgust.

"You are a fool to admit your identity, Yria Ingerd. Prepare to be squashed like the bug you are."

The sorceress held up her hands, her smile never faltering.

"Must we? But what is the hurry?"

"You have defied the Valsharess long enough, and you have proved to be a nuisance by stopping our forces from traveling through Undermountain. You shall pay for that; you shall be destroyed."

Yria's face took a wistful look.

"That is a pity. And such a handsome face you have, too." The drow's eyebrows shot up in his forehead, and the grimace wavered in his features for a moment. A clang signaled the fall of Devil's Bane from Valen's limp grasp. "I would not obliterate it."

"You cannot prevail against the drow." The warrior managed to recover admirably.

"And yet, as you point out, I've defeated drow in Undermountain. I've also destroyed a demilich, the most powerful undead creature. I have just killed a Red Sister and a whole hive of beholders. And let's not talk about the exposing and disposing of the traitor of Lith My'athat..." Yria tapped her fingertip against her chin, thoughtful. "I believe we're an even match." Then the girl clapped her hands excitedly, making the drow jump in surprise and getting half a dozen crossbows aimed her way. "Oh, I just know what we need here!"

A second drow, an outraged mage by the looks of his robes, moved out of the shadows close to his leader.

"Eldath!"

The warrior cut him short holding up a hand. His expression hadn't changed, but a trained observed could see a spark of curiosity in the depths of his red eyes.

"Silence, mage", he sneered. "Go on, surfacer. What do we need, other than your quick demise?"

"Stop talking about my death already, please! It wouldn't do at all! No, what we need here is... a future market!"

"Future... market..."

"Why, yes! See, right now we could fight each other to death, could we not? But as we've already ascertained, we're a rather even match and so I could die or you could die. The only advantage my demise would bring to you is a place of honor in the final assault to Lith My'athar – in the first assault line. Don't look at me like that, we both know how the Valsharess thinks of a male no matter how perfect a warrior – or how powerful a mage – he is. On the other hand, I've already said that I'm quite adverse to the idea of erasing you from the world of living: I enjoy too much just looking at you. So what we must do is settle a future market: we both get a little less than our best expectations in order to avoid fulfilling our worst expectations!"

The drow had a small smirk in place.

"Interesting. Is it a surface concept?"

"... ... It is an Yria Ingerd concept."

"State your proposal."

"Obviously, we don't fight. You relinquish your place as honorific fodder, and I relinquish your company. You win your life now and in the final assault. I win my life and the chance to find you again."

"You imply that I would commit treason against my Mistress?"

The sorceress shrugged.

"It was unfortunate timing; when you got here there was nothing but the smoking remains of the beholder hive."

The drow stared hard at her, gauging her power in an open challenge. Yria withstood his gaze, relaxed and smiling, the head cocked to the side, appraising him in return. He looked quickly to a scout placed behind the human, and the veteran elf made a decisive sign with his hand.

The hive was indeed destroyed.

The leader of the patrol nodded stiffly and took a step back into the shadows.

"I find this... future markets to be most interesting. We shall meet again, Yria Ingerd."

"I hope the circumstances shall be different... Eldath." Yria waved as the elite squad retreated, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.

The sorceress waited until she felt observed no more. Then she waited a few more minutes. Still without moving a muscle from her relaxed, defying, careless pose, she asked in a whisper:

"Valen? ... Are they gone?"

"Did you... what did you just do? Intimidate a drow weapon master? Sweet-talk him?"

"Are they gone?"

"Yes, I think they are completely gone". He picked Devil's Bane up and carefully placed it on its harness at his hip. "I don't know how, but they are gone..."

"Good."

All pretence of energy and poise fled Yria as she collapsed in a ragged heap, utterly unconscious.