When Pellanistra came down the next morning, chaos seemed in full control of House Despana's villa. Her siblings had gathered along with the Matron and Patron in one of the antechambers adjoining the audience hall, behaving as they generally did when they were all together. She could hear her mother from quite a distance away. "...T'risskacha, Tebatar, sit down and shut up before I cut out your tongues myself!"
The girl edged into the room, taking the vacant spot by Sabafae. The priestess was unusually subdued, eyes on the maps and papers in front of them while she waited for their mother to finish. "What did I miss?" Pellanistra murmured.
"Besides the bickering?" Sabafae whispered back.
Mayna slumped back into her chair, massaging her temples as she tried to suppress the worst of her temper. "How is it that I'm supposed to rule an eighth of the greatest city in the western Vault when I can barely rule my own family?" the Matron muttered, casting her eyes upward as though searching for divine aid—or possibly something to hurl at her eldest son with magic.
T'risskacha and Tebatar exchanged a look that plainly said 'this isn't over yet', but fell into duly chastised silence. The rest of the room quieted quite quickly after that as they waited for Mayna to speak again.
"Zezdrin, if you would perhaps care to enlighten us as to what occurred on your patrol? Your sisters' reports can wait for a brief spell—especially since T'risskacha can't speak of hers without Tebatar seeing fit to add his input."
The male nodded, face apologetic on his irritated twin's behalf. "We came across the remains of the other patrols that have been disappearing for some months now, and the signs all point to one thing—mind flayers. From the amount of dead, I would assume a full enclave or city has turned its eyes towards Yvoth-Lened."
There was a stir of unease through the drow in the room, Pellanistra included. She recalled her history lessons from Sabafae well—illithids had posed a danger to the city in the past, and the conflicts were brutal. The girl couldn't help speaking up though. "But Matron Zilthae practically took Lagurno apart stone by stone. That was the last mind flayer settlement within a hundred miles of Yvoth-Lened," Pellanistra said. "How is that possible?"
Mayna gestured to T'risskacha, signaling for her third daughter to answer the question. The Matron also glared at Tebatar, as though daring him to speak. The male seemed thoroughly cowed, wisely choosing to hold his peace. The female warrior sighed, seeming tired. "The Underriver flows through the Outer Web to the Sunless Sea. If our scrying is any indication, the mind flayers have been cooperating with the aboleths that reside in those waters. More disturbing is that there's something giving them cause to cooperate. All told, we've lost two full companies, and House Noquar has lost twice that. Yasmur'ss informed me that Sochsna has been as helpful as always in explaining these things—what we know only scratches the surface, and that damned aboleth won't fill us in on the rest."
Sabafae seemed to sense Pellanistra's confusion and filled her in quietly as Tebatar and T'risskacha started to bicker again. "Sochsna and his brood have a piecemeal alliance with us through House Noquar. He's an aboleth quite fond of not answering our questions and occasionally eating our messengers. His spawn are all fairly young, but they're just like him—evasive when we ask him what he doesn't want to tell us. That's why we sent Yasmur'ss."
"Because you want her to get eaten?" Pellanistra queried softly.
"As nice of a thought as that is, it's actually because nothing will eat Yasmur'ss...including an aboleth. Once, when we were on a surface raid, a viper bit her and died," the priestess answered dryly. The girl looked at her older sister with a mixture of confusion and disbelief, but Sabafae shook her head to forestall any further questions.
"Tebatar, before you begin accusing your sister of lying, perhaps you would care to take a seat again and allow me to let you all in on what I discovered," Mayna said dryly. Her son slammed back into his chair with bad grace, though he dared not say a word. The cleric didn't comment, doing her best to restrain an eye roll. "There's a disturbance in the Weave. Something...unnatural is beginning to happen. Sabafae has rather cryptically informed me that she may have an idea—until she and Pellanistra can research this further, we will have to deal with the implications in the Material Plane. T'risskacha, Tebatar, you are both responsible for calling back all of our remaining patrols to the south and west of the city. Sending soldiers blindly to an inevitable and probably painful death is pointless. Am I understood?"
There was a general chorus in the affirmative, and Malagzar spoke for the first time since the informal sort of Council had begun. "What of the illithid city on the shores of the Sunless Sea, Matron?" the male asked, eyes studying the maps still.
Mayna didn't so much as bat an eyelash at the fact that the Patron knew the location of the city and hadn't informed her. She knew from experience flying into a rage at him would be a waste of her time and energy. "Zezdrin will be in charge of marshaling troops for an eventual response. I will confer with Matron Rauvzyne Noquar before bringing this to the attention of the Council. Other than that, life will continue on as normal. None of you are to speak of this to anyone but each other—the general public does not need to be privy to this. Panic spreads in a city like poison in water."
"How apt," Sabafae murmured. She rose respectfully. "Matron, may Pellanistra and I depart for Arach-Tinilith? I assume the others will be occupied with their duties."
"You may," Mayna said shortly, waving a hand dismissively.
"It's beautiful," Pellanistra breathed, eyes wide as she trailed after her sister.
"I keep forgetting this is your first time out in the city. Do try and watch your feet. You're a noble, you have a certain image to maintain," Sabafae said, amused by her sister's gawking expression. The girl seemed to be trying to take in every bit of her surroundings at once, dazzled by the sights and sounds assaulting her from all angles.
There were creatures of so many different races: goblins, drow, duergar, gnomes, derro, quaggoths, trolls, and more crowding the narrow streets. Yvoth-Lened was built on massive stalactites in a cavern that defied the limits of sight, causeways and avenues gently sloping as one traveled down from the upper echelons of the city. Slender pillars swept up into graceful arches, each crowned with a stylized spider or glyph. Lights flickered everywhere—Yvoth-Lened was a veritable sea of pinpricks in the darkness, but none was greater than the pillar known as Faer'Ssussun that stood visible at every level as its fiery light burned upward towards its zenith just below the great stone sky.
"It looks so much bigger up close," the girl murmured, silvery-blue eyes still seemingly huge in amazement.
Sabafae sighed and steered her sister through the crowds. Goblins and other lesser creatures fought to get out of their way—those who moved too slowly were bitten by the priestess's snake whip. Being jostled did not put Despana's second daughter in a good mood, and she wasn't adverse to cursing at or even striking those who impeded them. Her status and murderous expression was enough to send most skittering.
The streets cleared as they drew nearer to Arach-Tinilith and the grim, imposing building Pellanistra knew abstractly was the Fane of Lolth. The solemn stone chimes rang out over the city, signaling the beginning of yet another rite, accompanied by faint screams.
The Academy seemed equally impressive, a graceful web of towers and walkways that melded into the natural stone formations. Sabafae shuffled her sister in, unmolested by the handful of guards at the gate. Out on the grounds, a drow priestess was pointing to diagrams of a human body while lecturing students on the finer points of torture. There seemed to be a large gathering of people on the front steps and in the main hall with its doors standing open, which was exactly what Pellanistra was being lead to.
"You can do that?" she asked her sister, still staring over her shoulder at the students outside.
"Focus," Sabafae muttered, releasing her hold. "You can ask those questions of an instructor when the time comes. The Matron already has all of your arrangements made, so we should get to your room quickly. I want to speak with you privately."
The younger drowess rubbed her hand along her jaw pensively, trying to banish the endless stream of questions welling up. She knew her curiosity would just irritate Sabafae. "This has to do with what Mother mentioned, doesn't it?"
"Don't call her that," Sabafae said sternly. "Especially not here. You will refer to every priestess and cleric by their appropriate title. Anything less is disrespectful."
"Even you?" Pellanistra asked, bewildered by this new turn of events. The Matron had never mentioned their familiarity as being disrespectful. Arach-Tinilith seemed to bring all kinds of new rules.
Sabafae gnawed at her lower lip as she considered the question. "No, you don't have to use any honorifics for me," the priestess said finally. "But that's because I've given you express permission. Understood?"
"Yes, sister," Pellanistra said. Before she could gather up the courage to ask another question, someone collided with them.
"Why don't you watch where you're—" they started to say, only to be cut off by Sabafae's backhanding strike. Pellanistra winced, watching the other young drowess hit the dust. Despana's second daughter had raised many of her siblings, and her forearm was a power in its own right to be feared just as much as the snake whip. The blue-eyed girl did not envy them.
"You will mind your tongue when you speak to a priestess!" Sabafae snapped, face as hard and cruel as when she had first heard Pellanistra speak irreverently of Lolth. The offending drowess glared up at them, but was wise enough to bite her tongue. She looked like a noble, and was young enough to be a new student as well.
Pellanistra glanced from her sister to this newcomer with confusion, unable to comprehend why the other girl was giving her such a look of venom and hate. "Sabafae?" she said finally, settling on the person she knew and understood.
The priestess made a noise of disdain, lip curling into a sneer of contempt. "Hun'ett, I should have known. The only house whose manners are worse than those of Xorlarrin," Sabafae said, voice scathing as she started back on the path.
'Your sense of obligation has left us indebted to a blood enemy!' Pellanistra shook her head as though clearing it of a mist, recalling her mother's rage all too clearly. The idea of being at such odds with House Hun'ett confused her. But she could still feel those hateful eyes following them as they entered Arach-Tinilith's vaulting stone hall.