It was only a short time later that Yasha found herself back in the humble room they had assigned to her, finishing strapping on the last of her armor. She had been there barely half a day, and already the geas magic that bound her to the defeat of the Valsharess was starting to tug at her soul. The Seer had been distraught when she discovered the magic that tied her to the priestess' cause, despite Yasha's assurances that she was otherwise quite willing to help. They had told her of the Valsharess' allies, who were many and powerful, and of the allies of her hostess, who were few and fractious. Woefully, Yasha reflected she had more than enough proof of the later. No doubt she would soon have plenty of proof of the former, as well. The Seer had suggested going after more allies and perhaps finding some other sources of power first, as they might be used as leverage against the enemy's allies when it was time to start picking them off. Yasha agreed, as much because it defied the geas as because of the strategic value of the idea.

It had been then that the Seer had told the paladin that she would be in charge of the Seer's plans and troops. Yasha sighed. All of their hopes, and all her faith, was now in Yasha's hands. She barely knew them. She certainly had little grasp on drow politics. She believed the Seer when the priestess told her it had been important that Yasha had defeated her attackers without interference. Hadn't Yasha thought the very same thing when she had waved Deekin off. Still, it rankled. Besides, Yasha had never been the leader of more than one or two allies. Torm, Tyr and Ilmater! She was a servant of her god, not a leader of armies.

Of course, she was not alone in that assessment. She remembered well the tiefling Valen's alarmed reaction to the Seer's words. "What do we really know about this woman? She could be the death of us all! I won't throw away my life by blindly following anyone, and I don't think anyone here should, either."

She scowled. It was one thing for her to doubt whether she should be leading the drow. To have the tiefling object so strenuously, however, had been insulting. "Yes, well, I didn't ask for your blind devotion anyway," Yasha growled.

"So you've started talking to yourself now too?" came a muffled voice from behind her.

Yasha turned slightly, and scowled at the hilt of the sword that was strapped to her back. "Enserric, don't start with me. I'm not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood to be corrected. And there! You're strapping on that other blade again. What, am I not good enough any more?"

Yasha finished buckling her sword belt, pursing her lips. "Duty is a holy avenger. Most paladins would give their left arm to have such a sword. It is an honor to wield her."

"I'm just as good," the other sword complained. "And I talk!"

"You're also vampiric, reek of chaotic power, and have a nasty tendency to drain my strength in battle to power your attacks."

"Hey! I said I would try to control that. You can't blame me. It's just my nature. Err...this sword's nature. It's not my fault I got trapped in this sword, you know!" Enserric stopped whining for a bit, and his tone was considerably more controlled as he continued. "So what DO you plan to do with me now that you have your precious Duty, eh? Why bother to carry me around at all?"

"Perhaps, Enserric," Yasha replied, keeping her voice even, "I just keep you with me so you cannot fall into the wrong hands. Perhaps I plan to turn you over to a stronghold of Torm at the earliest opportunity, so they can decide what your fate will be?"

The sword was silent for a shocked moment. "You're not serious, are you? I mean, they might lock me away forever or...or...destroy me thinking I'm some sort of evil artifact. You can't do that!"

"I can't?" Yasha asked innocently, pulling her holy symbol over her head.

"No!"

She laughed. "If you say so, then of course it must be true." She laughed again at his wordless growl. Perhaps, Enserric, I'm actually hoping to find some way to help you. That one day I might run into a mage powerful and skilled enough to free you from the sword you've been bound to? You have to admit, at least I'm more entertaining than sitting with a bunch of dead kings, right? So relax and please, please just be quiet when I talk to myself."

He relented, and stayed silent while check all of her equipment. She cupped her holy symbol in her hands for a moment, running her thumb over the fine, gold chain – the very best she could afford when she arrived in Waterdeep. The symbol itself, however, was a crudely carved wooden piece vaguely shaped like an upraised gauntlet. She rubbed its worn surface gently. To her, it was more valuable by far than any chain she could buy for it.

"Mooning over your jewelry again?"

Yasha scowled, and let the carving fall against her chest plate with a small clink. "Keep it up, Enserric, and I'll throw you in a river. I've been told there's one close to here. You can spend the next few decades staring at blind fish."

"Fine," he snapped, and fell silent again. Yasha fervently hoped he would stay quiet for a while. She was definitely not in the mood this morning, and she helf few hopes that the day would improve. She didn't have long to enjoy the silence, however, for immediately afterwards there was a soft rapping, and Deekin's raspy voice asked if she was ready. Squaring her shoulders, she picked up her bag and opened her door.

Deekin turned his scaly, dog-like face up to her. The kobold actually looked rather dapper in his leather armor, or at least as dapper as the little reptilian humanoid could look. He was weighed down with equipment, from the short sword strapped to his side to the vials of potions along his belt to the bulging pack on his shoulders, despite his constant protests of having a bad back. Spare sheets of paper peaked out of his backpack, and a lute was strapped across the top. Yasha grinned down at him.

"I should have bought you that feathered cap I saw in Waterdeep," she mused. "It would have been perfect."

He looked up at her doubtfully, but didn't comment. Perhaps he sensed her mood. He was certainly more observant than he usually let on, after all. She led him down the hallway towards the entrance of the great temple, trying to ignore the dark spider motif of the carvings on the wall. Despite the Seer's assurances of the disappearance of the Spider Queen of the drow, and despite even her own inability to sense the Evil that must cling to this place were it still dedicated to the dark goddess, it still made her flesh crawl to see some of the engravings in the stonework. She found herself hoping that the rooms she had been housed in were priests' quarters and hadn't been used for anything worse when its original inhabitants had held the temple.

Deekin broke her disturbing thoughts, hissing at her in a low voice. "Oooo...there's the man with goat horns. You sure you wants to take him with us, boss?"

"Why shouldn't we Deekin?" she whispered back. "The Seer assured me he is a very skilled warrior, and knows the area well."

"I don't know boss," replied. "He has a bad look on his face all the time, like he's got gas. Deekin been with gassy people before, remember? They get short tempered and smell bad all the time."

Yasha snorted, trying to choke back her laughter as they walked towards the tiefling. He turned to look at them coolly as they approached. Of course, Yasha had several reservations of her own to taking him, given his reaction the evening before. She was feeling obtuse, though. It may well have been his reaction that caused her to insist he come with them. It certainly was that which made her enjoy Deekin's observations. Yasha leaned down closer to the kobold and whispered. "Maybe he just needs a change in diet. Let's give him a chance."

Deekin sighed dramatically. "If you says so boss. Deekin tries not to say 'I tolds you so' when things starts smelling bad, though."

She winked at him and smiled, but forced herself to sober as she approached Valen. If she was to fight by his side, mocking him right out of the gate was likely a poor start. He seemed ready for battle, at least. Clad in heavy emerald color armor, and out-fitted for travel, he stood motionless before the door as if guarding it from their approach rather than waiting for them. His red hair was a dark as blood in the dim light, but his eyes had flashed like ice blue steel as they came to a stop before him. She offered him a friendly smile anyway. "Hail, Valen."

He nodded briefly in her direction. "My lady." His low voice was crisply neutral.

She struggled to maintain her friendliness. "'My lady'? Why so formal?"

"Well, you are the Seer's chosen hero, are you not? And you have been put in charge of this expedition...and everything else, or so it seems."

Yasha felt her smile slip a bit, and she tilted her head at him. "I see. Well, since we'll be traveling together, perhaps you'd like to tell me a little more about yourself?"

He gave her a hard stare. "I'm a warrior; a soldier. You would be hard pressed to find one more skilled with the blade then I am. And, like the Seer, I stand against the Valsharess. I don't think you're entitled to much more than that, since I barely even know you. The Seer may think you're something special, but I'm reserving judgment until the Valsharess is defeated."

Yasha sighed, her smile finally fading all the way. She looked down at her clasped hands for a moment, struggling not to press her hands against her temples. This day was already living up to her expectations. Taking a deep breath to steel herself she raised her eyes back to his. "I get the feeling you don't like me," she replied ruefully.

"Untrue," he said quietly. "I do not even know you, so I can hardly dislike you. But unlike the Seer, I'm not about to put all my faith in you until you've proven yourself against the Valsharess."

She nodded once and sighed. "Fair enough, I suppose. I..." Yasha stopped in mid- sentence. A figure moved, shadow on shadow, through the darkness.

"Nathyrra!" Yasha exclaimed, pulling her hand from Duty's hilt. "You have to stop doing that to me. It makes me jumpy, and jumpy paladins are not pleasant."

Nathyrra smiled archly at her as she stepped from the shadows. "I'll keep that in mind." She didn't seem particularly alarmed at the prospect, however. Yasha had to stifle another sigh as the drow continued, "The Seer asked me to help show you around Lith My'athar and answer any remaining questions you might have before you go."

"I appreciate that," Yasha replied, nodding her thanks. "Please convey my gratitude to the Seer as well."

"I will." The drow looked at the others expectantly. "If you are ready then?"

Yasha looked to Valen, who spread his hands in what seemed to be a signal that he was prepared to leave. Deekin nodded eagerly. She, in turn, nodded at Nathyrra. "We're ready."

They exited the temple hall, and descended the broad dark stairway at its massive entrance. The cavern was huge, but the air was still and held the cool heaviness that silently spoke of the great amount of rock that lay just out of Yasha's sight above them. There were a few light sources scattered about, though they were dim and far between as the drow had little use for bright lights. Yasha followed politely as Nathyrra led the way, showing her a public house and a corral full of some breed of underground cattle the drow referred to as rothe. Yasha took silent note of the number of the drow that milled about, some performing tasks, and others training for war. They were indeed few, and, more distressing to her, a considerable number made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck when they approached. She had little doubt that, were Duty in her hands, the sword would be constantly flashing warning signals at her. Valen, for his part, remained mostly silent, apparently preoccupied with his thoughts. Or perhaps he just didn't feel the desire to speak with her. Deekin was taking notes, his nose pressed close to the paper in the dim light.

"That," Nathyrra said, continuing the impromptu tour, "is the Maeviir public house."

Yasha squinted into the darkness. "Didn't we already see one public house?"

"Yes, but this specifically houses the lesser of the Maeviir family, including the Matron's daughter," Nathyrra replied, sounding bored. She made a move to continue walking.

Yasha was puzzled, however. "Her daughter does not live in the main house?"

"If you ask that," Nathyrra said dryly, "then you do not know drow family politics very well."

"True," the paladin conceded, continuing to peer into the shadows. She wondered whether it was the daughter or the mother that had decided on their separation. She played with it in her mind a bit, but decided she her lack of 'drow family politics' information precluded her guessing. If she squinted just right, though, she thought she could make out some sort of building in the direction Nathyrra pointed. It might be good to know where it lay.

Nathyrra looked from Yasha to the distant building and back again, looking concerned. "You cannot see it?" Nathyrra asked.

She looked back at the drow. She opened her mouth, and closed it again. "I see lots and lots of dark," she finally admitted with a shrug.

"I didn't realize rivvil eyesight was so poor. You will have difficulties in the Underdark then," Nathyrra said, frowning.

Yasha cocked a half-smile at her in reply. "I'll muddle through somehow, I imagine," she replied wryly. "I have practice, after all. That reminds me. What does 'rivvil' mean anyway? I keep getting called that, and it would make me feel better if I knew...well..."

"If you are being insulted?" Nathyrra finished lightly. Her eyes flashed with amusement. "Yes and no. It merely means 'surfacer'."

"Yes AND no. Ah. That makes sense." She motioned towards the building. "Can we go in?"

Nathyrra furrowed her brow. "Into the Maeviir public house? Yes, if you wish."

The first face they saw when they entered, as luck would have it, was a familiar one. Yasha nodded a greeting at the drow she had fought earlier that morning. He scowled at her, but gave her a wide berth as he silently exited the building. Yasha watched him go, wondering if his defeat made him a respectful ally or a lurking enemy.

"I wonder where his two friends are," she asked, mostly to herself.

"They are dead," Nathyrra replied, matter of factly.

"But...but I did not think I hit them that hard." She frowned at herself then. THAT was certainly not the impression she wanted with her new allies. And she had been very careful with her blows.

"You did not." Nathyrra assured her. "He killed them himself, since they failed him."

Yasha focused on the dark elf, her mind struggling to wrap around what she had just heard. She had to repeat it to herself a couple of times before the meaning sank in. She blinked repeatedly at Nathyrra, who merely looked at her with raised eyebrows. Yasha struggled to find something to say. When she realized that she was gaping liked a landed fish and no words had yet come to her, she was finally forced to settle for a small, "Oh."

"Some will say you should have killed him, you know. He was both disrespectful to a female in power and fool enough to challenge you openly. Mercy is considered a great weakness among many drow."

Yasha pursed her lips at the other woman's comments, her skin prickling unpleasantly. Who was she being warned against, exactly?

"What do you think?" Yasha asked carefully.

Nathyrra looked away from the paladin for a moment, apparently looking about the room, though her eyes seemed unfocused. Her eyes were sad when they returned to meet Yasha's. "I've only recently learned to appreciate the value of mercy."

Beside her, Yasha sensed Valen shift uneasily. She looked at him, but the tiefling's face was still inscrutable as far as she was concerned. Valen and Nathyrra shared a brief, knowing look, but neither said anything further. When it seemed clear they would let things lay at that, Yasha gritted her teeth and decided not to push the issue.

"Well, " Yasha replied. "I don't regret letting him live. I certainly didn't think it was a good idea to start killing off allies, all things considered. Besides, if I started running through everyone who annoyed me or who I had somehow irritated, I'd leave a swath of bodies across the surface of Faerun, I'm afraid." She frowned briefly, looking around the room. "And my blade spills the blood of too many already," she added in a softer voice.

Glancing back at Nathyrra, she saw the tilted head and frown of her reaction, though Yasha wasn't sure of the woman was expressing disapproval over her flippant "swath of bodies" comment or her final addition. The drow didn't voice whatever was in her head, so Yasha scanned the room again, her eyes finally resting on a young drow woman. From her bearing and dress, and how her two companions deferred to her in voice and action, she was obviously someone of relative importance. Eager to drop the current topic, she walked away from her companions, and towards the woman she presumed to be the House Maeviir daughter. The dark elf turned as she approached, and addressed her before Yasha could introduce herself.

"So you are the rivvil the Seer has put her faith in? Yasha, isn't it? My name is Zesyyr... only daughter and sole surviving heir to Matron Myrune of House Maeviir."

Yasha bowed briefly, "It is an honor to meet you, Zesyyr Maeviir."

"I was hoping you would come to see me, Yasha. I have an offer for you, but it would draw too much attention if I had sought you out. But since you've stumbled over to me..."

Yasha eyed the drow woman warily. "An offer? What kind of offer?"

"House Maeviir - my house - has fallen on hard times. Matron Myrune, my mother, has brought us to the very brink of destruction. Many believe it is time for a change. Many believe I should rule. Of course, my mother is no fool. She understands the danger I represent, which is why she exiled me from the tower where she now dwells. She thinks she's safe inside the high walls."

Yasha licked her lips nervously. From the pot to the fire, it seemed. Perhaps she had been better off joking about killing swaths of irritated people after all. She didn't like the sudden turn the conversation had taken, but was at a loss as to how to steer it to some safer, polite topic.

Nathyrra interrupted before she could think of anything. "Obviously she isn't as safe as she thinks. I know this is how we were brought up, but there is another path you can take. One that isn't fraught with betrayal and death. Eilistraee can--"

"Don't throw your god in my face!" the other woman snapped. "We can't all run away to the surface; some of us have to survive down here in the Underdark. And that means plotting to assure my own future." Zesyyr turned her glinting, ruby eyes back on Yasha. "My mother thinks I am no longer a threat, but I have more support than she knows. All I need to complete my coup is an assassin powerful enough to kill her and her bodyguard."

Assassin? Yasha gritted her teeth. She was no assassin. The daughter was a fool to use that language if she thought to convince Yasha of anything but how quickly she should walk away. "You want me to kill your own mother?" she asked, her voice hard.

Valen shook his head in disgust. "These are the kind of allies we are counting on to stand with us against the Valsharess?"

The drow daughter laughed, nonplussed by their reactions. "Surely you aren't surprised? This is the way of the drow. The Matron Mothers raise their daughters knowing full well we are scheming to replace them as soon as we come of age."

Nausea churned Yasha's stomach, and her skin flushed at her barely contained outrage. Her own mother?! "I won't be a party to this horrible crime!"

Zesyyr raised her eyebrows. "You are quick to condemn me, Yasha, but you don't have all the facts. You shouldn't judge me until you know the whole story."

Yasha just frowned at her dubiously, struggling to reign in her insulted anger. She knew full well she was in new territory, and she had always been taught that knowledge was as useful a weapon as her sword.

"I know my mother," the dark elf continued. "She doesn't believe we can defeat the Valsharess, and she's afraid. Do you really believe she will fight by the Seer's side when the Valsharess attacks? Matron Myrune will betray your Seer the first chance she gets. I, however, actually believe we can defeat the Valsharess. I won't turn on my allies at the first sign of trouble."

The paladin weighed this possibility carefully, before replying. "Why should I believe someone trying to kill her own mother?"

"Consider this, Yasha: Matron Myrune has lost her ambition, she would rather serve the Valsharess than die. I still have my ambition, and I won't bow so easily before our common enemy."

She offered her ambition as proof of her trustworthiness. The drow were indeed a breed apart. "Sorry, I'm not interested," Yasha replied flatly.

She sighed. "This is an excellent opportunity, Yasha. You'd be a fool to throw it away. Come speak to me again if you change your mind."

Bowing, Yasha took her leave as civilly as she could. Unable to trust herself to not make more of a scene, and having had her fill of mingling with the drow for one day in any case, she headed for the door.