Jessi: Happy birthday to me! I'm seventeen today :)

"What would Gorion say?" muttered Uriel as he looked down at his hands. Instead of his familiar golden skin he saw the glossy ebony colour of a dark elf. Examining himself in Edwin's mirror ("borrowed" by Imoen) he saw that the change extended even to his clothes and hair, his white shirt now turned black with faint spider-web designs and his hair pure white. He was relieved to see that at least his eyes remained the same, the red-gold standing out against his new dark skin.

"You don't look too different Uriel. Just like someone spilt ink on you… a lot of ink," Imoen's change was more dramatic, her sweet face now more angular and her ears pointed. The elven paladin could still make out her features if he concentrated hard enough. Then again he wouldn't have to, unless Ust Natha had drow with shockingly pink hair.

The young thief-mage noticed Uriel's stare and patted the top of her head, grinning widely,

"I asked Adalon to leave it like this. Can you believe that she wanted to change it to white?"

The sun elf emphatically nodded, ducking as Imoen playfully swiped at his head. He was smiling too; the hair could only be a sign that Imoen was getting better.

As Imoen bounded away, Edwin's mirror still in hand, Uriel sat down, crossing his legs. Uncertainly, he reached inside his armour, pulling out a flat disc on a length of red cord. On it was a symbol, a pair of scales, perfectly balanced on a hammer.

He wrapped it around his hand, clenching it in his fist. His eyes closed,

Balance. Balance in the darkness. Like the scales of Tyr, the things weighing down upon my heart are balanced. Tyr, help me to bring forth justice, to correct the balance of the world. Tyr, hear my-

But then the darkness reared up again, engulfing the elf.

Ah! he shrieked, the sound muffled by the darkness of Bhaal. Tyr help me. TYR SAVE ME!

But there was no answer, just a wave of sweeping silence just as it had been every other time he'd try to pray.

TYR!

Uriel's eyes snapped open and he screamed, flinging his holy symbol across the floor.

Solaufein gritted his teeth as the healing potion began its work, the long wound on his leg stinging as it closed. Another dab of the liquid eliminated any trace of the wound, leaving only smooth ebony skin in its place.

He stood, examing one long leg then the other. Statisfied that no other wound remained (any cut no matter how small could have come from a posioned weapon) he crossed the wet floor of his private bath gracefully, taking fresh clothes from the low bench.

Dressed in loose clothing he padded back into his room, his fingers checking the lock and the wards that were in placed on the door. Next he cast a True Sight spell and checked the room, even down to the wardrobe and the bath he'd just vacated.

Finally he unlocked a small chest, even more heavily warded than the door had been.

From its depths the fighter-mage took out a small, well-loved book, made of many different parchment sheets cut roughly the same size.

He settled down on his bed and opened a page at random. The words of surface poets stared back at him, the graceful script of the drow tongue along with the stark letters of Undercommon speaking of worlds far above this one. Words that the translators probaly never had seen...

At least he had glimpsed that strange alien world... and he'd taken something back.

His dark fingers touched the flesh over his heart and thought of a goddess with silver hair.

"Remember, you are Veldrin just arrived from the city of Ched Nassad," Aladon's eyes narrowed dangerously then, "And don't you dare delay. Every hour that my eggs remain in the city means that much more danger to them. "

"You have my solomn word that they be returned safe and sound, my Lady," Uriel bowed to the silver dragon, his hair brushing the floor. He tossed it over his shoulder and smiled, "On my honour as a black-hearted drow warrior."

As they turned to leave Uriel caught sight of his symbol of Tyr lying on the stones. He paused, staring down at the round disc. With a swift kick he sent it skittering off into the shadows.

The former paladin headed for Ust Natha.