Never in her life did Lirayne think she would find herself doubled over the edge of a small ravine, vomiting up what had been her breakfast with paladin of Torm rubbing her back awkwardly in an attempt to be soothing and holding her hair out of her face. In fact, even though it was happening, she wasn't quite certain she believed it. "I want to die," she croaked out, closing her eyes. She spit again to try and get the taste out of her mouth.

Galen wisely said nothing, moving his hands away from her and passing her a waterskin. They had been traveling together for about a week and a half now-and every day one where they were in combat more often than out of it. Demons and their minions seemed to come out from the stone itself on a regular basis, making the road to Menzoberranzan nearly impassable. The constant strain was taking its toll on the whole group, but it had also forced them together. He and the priestess in particular had bonded in their own strange way, watching each other's backs in combat more often than not. Lirayne seemed better when she was in the thick of it, even allowing a rare smile to slip free.

The fact that Lirayne was pregnant had come out the first morning on the road when she smelled breakfast and almost immediately found herself throwing up. The only way to console Storunn about his attempt at cooking had been to reveal the actual reason, though Valyne seemed a bit irritated that they hadn't just let him think it was the food. She wasn't a fan of the dwarf's culinary skills and had muttered something about keeping a couple of his biscuits as weapons to hunt real food with.

As soon as he'd heard, the paladin felt it was his duty to protect Lirayne and her child, whatever his feelings about Lloth. It was just the right thing to do. The priestess could still be absolutely vicious, particularly whenever she felt like he was treating her as though she was made of glass, but there was a definite sort of puzzled gratitude beneath it that occasionally slipped out when she was positive no one else was watching. It was a welcome break from the teasing-apparently priestesses of Lloth were incredibly sexual creatures and had no problem expressing it. Half the time he felt like his face was going to burst into flame.

"Better?" he asked quietly after she'd finished rinsing her mouth out and started chewing the piece of root that Valyne had provided. It was an Underdark plant, something that erased the taste and the smell of her stomach's distress.

"Not really," she admitted with a grimace. "But the others will have missed us by now, even if they are supposedly sleeping in. We should get back."

It had taken both Storunn and Cessair to convince her sister to stop an extra day in the small trade town of Rockhollow. It was mostly a svirfneblin settlement, but enough traders of numerous races passed along the road between Gracklstugh and Menzoberranzan that there weren't too many eyebrows raised by their little group. They needed the rest desperately between Lirayne's constant exhaustion and the tender, healing wounds of their stalwart dwarven defender.

"I think I can help, if you don't mind me touching you," the paladin offered, his stubble-covered cheeks coloring slightly at the anticipation of teasing. Honestly, he was a grown man and he knew it was ridiculous, but Storunn was right. The church had kept him on a tight rein throughout his training and even afterwards. Duty was more important.

Thankfully, Lirayne was too distracted by how miserable she felt to comment. "Be my guest," she murmured. She hated asking for help, but she would take it if it was freely offered. After all, she was tired of being dead on her feet by the time they stopped to make camp. And with her pride what it was, she always insisted on taking watch anyway even though she fell asleep halfway through against her sister's shoulder.

Galen laid his hand over her stomach and whispered a brief prayer to Torm. Apparently his god didn't mind that he was healing a cleric of a diametrically opposed faith, because Lirayne felt warmth spread through her stomach and then her limbs even as a faint glow of golden light surrounded the paladin's hand. The exhaustion and nausea faded away almost instantaneously. "Much, much better," Lirayne said with a sigh of relief. She put her hand over the paladin's and gave it a slight squeeze in silent thanks before standing up as though nothing had happened. He had learned that drow apparently actually expressed their gratitude out loud only when it was forced out of them and behaved as though admitting they were glad of the service was absolute torture. "Let's get back."

Originally, their plan had been to survey the area directly around the settlement for any sign of demonic activity. Val was convinced, probably rightfully so, that they were nowhere near as safe as they seemed. But Lirayne had spent most of the time being sick and Galen, their normal dowsing rod for evil, had turned up nothing.

"So, do you have a...consort?" Galen asked despite himself, trying out the term tentatively. He had made more of an effort to learn about drow culture since the priestess joined them, occasionally asking her questions. For the most part, though, he let his sister ask and simply listened.

Lirayne shook her head. "No. I was too busy with other things," she said. Normally she would have turned that into some sort of tease, but her head was in other places this morning. Namely, with Val's instincts. She was on the same page as her sister. There was a subtle air of wrongness to Rockhollow that passed completely beneath the notice of their other companions, probably because they were less familiar with the Underdark and its normal nuances. And yet, nothing.

"You've never been in love?" Galen said, startled. Even he'd felt romantic stirrings in his sheltered life, though the infatuation was always just that and faded over time.

The cleric paused, raising an eyebrow at him. "What in the Demonweb does 'love' have to do with anything?" she said. The human word came out dripping with all the scorn she had learned to treat it with. "Love is a fairy's tale, a fever dream, something that only the mad or stupid chased in their blind way. Weakness and pain are the only two things that come of it. Taking a consort is about ownership. Saying, 'This is mine and no one else's, so back off'. Don't confuse it with whatever you surface dwellers moan on and on about in their songs and stories."

Galen almost flinched back slightly from the venom. That was the harshest reality check he had ever gotten. For a few days, he had forgotten he was speaking to a priestess of Lloth and started to see her as a lovely woman who happened to be a dark elf cleric. But now the illusion evaporated. "Is that what your goddess teaches?" he said, tone coming out cool even to his own ears.

"No, Galen, that's what life teaches," Lirayne said bluntly, doing her best to be forthright without resorting to hostility. She wasn't interested in hearing platitudes from him despite all of his generosity. And if he was really even thinking about trying to start anything vaguely related to 'love' with her, it was in everyone's best interest to crush his hopes as quickly as possible. Particularly his best interest. She had demonstrated clearly in the balor's clutches that she lacked the power to defend anyone who placed trust in her. "The Spider Queen doesn't trouble herself with stating the obvious. I suggest you focus your attentions on some surface girl with sunshine and air between her ears if you're looking for romance. Or maybe a dwarf. Storunn seems lonely."

"I can see why your lover didn't stick around for the child," Galen shot back hotly, his face burning. The instant he said the words, he regretted them. For a moment, the pain was crystal clear in her eyes. Then the drowess shut down in an instant, locking all of her thoughts and feelings back away behind the defense mechanisms she had already started using. "Lirayne, I didn't-"

Her lip curled as the tide of anger rose. Anger was safe. Anger was easy. And really, wasn't this what she wanted? It was so much easier to deal with disgust and hatred. She understood those emotions. They came without expectations, without a need that she couldn't fill. It turned the pain into something that wasn't quite so helpless. Her hand tightened into a fist, but she forced it down at her side. She was not going to hit their traveling companion. Not when she had promised Val that she would try. "Vith dos."

And then she left him standing in the darkness on the outskirts of town, stalking back to the inn where they were staying. He was stuck in one place for a minute, maybe two, before following her. Valyne was waiting for him when he returned, and the gray eyes behind her mask looked like iron. As soon as he opened his mouth, the mage stepped into his personal space in a way that forced him back against the inn's door. All of the other patrons in the tavern were making a great show of looking somewhere else.

"I do not want to hear a word out of you," Val said, enunciating every syllable with the perfection only a mage could muster after a lifetime of relying on incantations and rituals. She didn't know what he'd said. She didn't need to know. "If you ever, ever do this again, not even your god will be able to save you from me. The first step to fixing this, incidentally, is leaving her the hell alone for a while. So back off."

Cessair's expression was only slightly more sympathetic. "Way to stick your head up your own ass, brother," she mumbled under her breath, delicately pulling the mage away from him. "View must be great there or you wouldn't keep visiting." Now I'm going to have to fix this bullshit. Honestly, I deserve a bonus share for this. The half elf followed Val back to the room the three were sharing to see what she could do.

Storunn stood up and handed Galen a tankard. "Drink up, lad."

Galen accepted the drink without a second thought. The blissful oblivion of being black out drunk was actually sounding incredibly appealing. And if demons attacked, well, the others would come up with something. Storunn quickly returned to the svirfneblin merchants he had started talking to earlier when it became apparent that the paladin was intent upon brooding.

It was a fair while later, after four or five drinks when he was finally starting to get properly drunk, that Galen was interrupted. A slender, dark hand suddenly rested on his own, thumb brushing across the back of his hand in a way that sent jolts of electricity through his alcohol-slowed body. "All this over me?" Lirayne said softly, giving him a half smile when he turned to look at her.

"I'm so sorry," Galen blurted out, his words starting to get away from him a little. "I know it's not fair and...but...I didn't mean it, really...so sorry..."

"Shh, it's fine," the drowess murmured. She was sitting closer to him than she ever had before, practically flush against his side. He felt his face start to burn when he realized that.

"Is it hot in here?" the human muttered, shifting for a moment while he pulled in a deep breath. "Lirayne, I really want to tell you that I like you...I mean, how much I do. And if you don't like me after earlier, I understand."

"And if I do?" she said with a full smile, one of the rare pleased ones he'd glimpsed only once or twice the whole time they'd traveled together. "Why don't we take this somewhere else? Just the two of us, alone, no siblings to stumble in..."

Galen felt his face go a deeper red. "I don't want to take advantage of you," he said, embarrassed by how much he wanted to lean in and kiss her. She looked so happy, so carefree. It was kind of strange, actually, but he wasn't going to rain on her parade. Maybe she had reconsidered the whole thing about love earlier? His head felt so foggy. Probably from the drinking.

"It's not taking advantage if I'm asking you to, Galen. Come on," Lirayne said with a low voice full of promise, standing up and leading him off by the hand. His whole body felt like it was on fire now and he followed her willingly. Storunn didn't even notice them go.


"Well, you know what they say," Cessair said diplomatically, giving Valyne a wry smile. "Never attribute to malice what can be explained by incompetence. Honestly, I should tattoo that across the front of his chest as a warning to everyone he encounters."

For the past few hours, she and Val had just sat down and talked with Lirayne. About Menzoberranzan, about how they were going to handle the demons, about the strange feeling the pair got from the town. Anything but what had happened between the two while they were out hunting for clues. The priestess was more than happy to let them chat in elvish without her, praying quietly to a small icon of Lloth from her bag.

"I will still rip his spleen out through his throat if he ever does it again," Val said darkly.

"And you say you're a terrible sister," Cessair teased in an effort to lighten the mood a little. She could see Val's eyes starting to do strange things and knew that everyone would be better off if the mage slipped back out of protective mode, no matter how endearing it was. She switched effortlessly back into Undercommon, far more accustomed than her brother to transitioning between languages. "So, what do you think the deal with town is? Maybe a more subtle demon than the type we've been running into. A succubus or something."

Val pursed her lips thoughtfully, distracted from her fuming. "That...would actually make a great deal of sense."

"What would you do if you were a succubi dumped in Rockhollow assigned to kill us? Because clearly the demons know who we are and really don't like us. You kind of get how they think as far as I can tell," the rogue said as she resumed sharpening her dagger.

"First, find a safe hideout. Somewhere with easy access to people where a new face wouldn't stand out. Then, start collecting thralls. Maybe summon a few lesser demons to serve as messengers and spies, probably quasits. Once my appointed targets arrived, I would hold back and watch them to look for the weak link of the group. Someone who would know what the group was planning and also strong enough to pose a real threat if turned against the others, but with enough desire of any kind in their heart to be easily manipulated. Succubi are excellent at getting their claws into people," Val said almost without thinking. Unquestionably, succubi were one of the varieties of demon that she was most familiar with thanks to Malcanthet's influence.

Cessair paused for a moment, reflecting on this. Then she started suddenly, the blade slipping on the whetstone and nearly cutting open her thumb. "Oh, shit!"

"Mm?"

"Val, you just described the inn and my brother. We need to find him. Now," Cessair said as she sprang to her feet and headed for the door. She was confident that both drow would be on her heels in a moment. Even if Lirayne was still pissed about earlier, she wouldn't abandon Galen to a demon.

Their rapid approach immediately drew Storunn's attention. The dwarf waved pleasantly. "Off somewhere, lass?" he asked Cessair.

"Where in the nine hells is Galen?" the rogue demanded, slipping her knife back into its sheathe. No sense in troubling the svirfneblin, who seemed pleasant if terrified of the drow with her.

"Last I saw, he was chatting with Lirayne at the bar. They looked cozy," Storunn said with a shrug. His brow furrowed slightly when the drow priestess came down the stairs after the rogue and her sister. "Did she lose him?"

"Idiot paladin," Val hissed, looking over at the empty tankard. Of course he'd been inebriated. Sober, Galen would have probably caught on to the succubus's act. It wouldn't be perfect without at least a week or two to make a proper study of her sister. But with his senses dulled by alcohol he was far easier prey. Their enemy really had timed things well. "She should have a sanctum of sorts somewhere in town, far less public than the inn. Dwarf, you can bring your beer with you. We have a demon problem."