"This was...not what I expected," Cessair whispered with apparent awe, abruptly pausing at the overlook.

Below stretched out the vastness of Menzoberranzan, the walled city stretching from side to side of the impossibly large vault of this cavern supported by its walls and numerous pillars the size of small mountains. It surrounded mushroom groves and even a vast subterranean lake complete with an island. The city itself was a glimmering web of towers and walls lit by Narbondel's ethereal glow teeming with life of countless varieties. There were tens of thousands of people moving around and living on those broad avenues and winding alleys-it looked as big as Waterdeep, more a metropolis than a simple city. To think this wasn't even the greatest city of the drow if legend were true! The closer she walked, the more detail became apparent. In its own way, drow architecture reminded her that they were still at their roots elvenkind, very much interested in aestheticism. She had expected a lot more grimness to their city, and while that could certainly be found, it had its own enchanting dark beauty. The only unnerving parts were the constantly appearing motifs of webs and spiders.

The city was also full of non-drow, even on the busy streets. Many were either slaves or servants, but there were a fair population of traders and free artisans as well. While drow formed the higher echelons of society, they certainly didn't seem too averse to employing or owning 'lesser' races. The smells and sounds of the city crashed over the group like a wave, a sudden break from the absolute silence of the wilds and the outlying areas. Galen and Storunn both looked stunned, but Cessair could shake off her almost child-like wonder fairly swiftly. She had spent most of her life in various cities and knew that the key to avoiding trouble was to be aware of it coming. Still, it was not an introduction she would ever forget.

At the front of the group, both Lirayne and Valyne distinctly altered their entire attitude and posture. Gone were the smiles, lighthearted banter, and relaxed posture. Both were on their guard, heads high and eyes glaring at anyone who strayed too close. With their cleric in her proper robes and wearing a symbol of her house prominently, most were adequately discouraged from causing trouble. One or two people on the street scrutinized the group more intently because of it, but Cessair made a point of giving them nothing to look at: she just followed along without stopping to gawk or talk. The ground rules had changed now that they were in a city of the drow. All those things that the rogue had gotten away with out in the tunnels and even Gracklstugh were no longer acceptable in public.

"How does it feel to be home, sister?" Lirayne asked as they moved through their home district. Once, House Duskryn had stood just to the north of the Westrift, but as fortunes changed they were relocated to Narbondellyn, the city's wealthy area that was also referred to as the Broad Streets. It had been a pragmatic decision rather than some insistence on appearances: the old stronghold had what its newer rulers realized were crippling flaws in its defenses. With the blessing of Lloth and Matron Baenre, Siniira had simply occupied what was once Oblodra's compound and created new magical defenses to compliment the different construction. All of her daughters had grown up within the new arrangement, completely surrounded by wealth, privilege, and nobility.

"Surreal," Val said, glancing back over her shoulder to make certain they hadn't lost anyone. Cessair was successfully herding her brother and Storunn in the right direction. There were humans and dwarves in Menzoberranzan, though overwhelmingly as slaves. People certainly stared at the disguised half-elf, but the tiefling attributes were serving their intended purpose. The hostility was no more pronounced than it was for any other outlander and there were no assaults to break up. "I never thought I would actually come back. I wished and hoped, certainly, but I am accustomed to reality not living up to my expectations."

"Aren't we all?"

"Zesstra may be in for a rude shock. Did you tell anyone at the House where you were going?" the arcanist said. A dirt-encrusted goblin almost crashed into her and she reacted instinctively, throwing the creature back with a crack of flame and force. The spell came casually and without fanfare or incantation, a subtle display of power to make anyone considering a fight back off. The miserable little thing scrambled to its feet and hobbled away with its burns. Everyone subtly moved to give Valyne just a bit more space.

"Other than Mother dearest? No. I look forward to the outrage and shock." Lirayne didn't even bat an eye. After all, one could expect that kind of greeting if they strayed too close to a noble or a priestess.

Galen gaped a little bit, his head turning to watch the goblin go. "Aren't there laws about that?"

"Menzoberranzan's only law is that might makes right," Cessair said quietly to him. She had been careful to not react, knowing that it wasn't wise to look too weak in a place like this. "Whether that might is political power or demonstrable prowess. Just follow Val and try not to touch anyone. I'd hate to see you charred."

"I..."

"In a drow city, we play by drow rules," the rogue said, paraphrasing Val's advice in Gracklstugh. She would have prayed for good fortune and protection, but on some subconscious level she was terrified that Lloth would hear her calling to another god and strike her dead in the street. Better not to even think it so there was no chance of it slipping out of her mouth. Besides, could any of the surface gods even hear her so deep beneath the world of sunlight?

Galen nodded, steeling himself for the unpleasantness ahead. He envied his sister's ability to put up walls and simply behave like she was perfectly comfortable in this city. He felt his discomfort start to rise as they moved from the area of commoners and mixed races into areas predominantly more drow, and affluent ones at that. The crowded streets became wide, bustling avenues lined with upper class homes and shops. There was even color, something Galen had never expected. He imagined the drow as grim and dark, yet they seemed to enjoy lighting up their city with differently colored signs written in faerie fire. "Where are we going?" he asked, catching Lirayne's eye. He didn't reach out to touch her arm to make certain she'd heard because he doubted she or the drow here would appreciate the gesture.

"Just trust that we're going to the right place, alright?" Lirayne said. She wasn't really irritated even though she sounded snappish. The last thing she felt comfortable doing, however, was reassuring a human in the middle of the street. A guard perched on the back of a riding lizard made the mistake of looking too long and hard at their group, so the priestess focused her ire on him in a glare. It was enough to convince him that he should keep moving.

House Duskryn's compound rose before them, equal parts fortress and palatial estate. Even without a gift in magic, the surface dwellers could feel the powerful hum of wards as they stepped through the gates that stood open. The main courtyard was well-trafficked by servants, slaves, and soldiers. It easily rivaled the impressiveness of surface keeps and palaces, though the statutes of Lloth's Handmaidens in their drow forms on either side of the inner gate chilled Galen's blood. "Where in the hells are we goin'?" Storunn asked Cessair quietly.

"I...I think this is a House," the half elf said, looking around with awe once they stepped into the main hall. She felt as uneasy as the dwarf seemed even though she made a point of hiding it. At least she wasn't Galen, who probably felt every hint of evil in every passerby. "A whole faction of the city, an entire army, at the command of a noble family."

There was a short series of steps before a set of double doors leading to the audience hall where Siniira would undoubtedly be found at this hour. Drow were scattered across the room in knots of conversation, a few arguments and raised voices heard here and there. More than a couple of eyes were focused on the newcomers. Lirayne ignored it and turned around. As a priestess, it fell to her to ensure their guests behaved themselves. "We're about to go speak with the Matron Mother. Or Val and I will speak anyway. I don't want to hear a word out of anyone else unless you are specifically addressed, understood?"

Cessair and Galen both blanched visibly. The legends of the drow suggested universally that Matron Mothers were heartless, cruel, calculating women who rose to their position through unrepentant slaughter and zealous devotion to the Spider Queen. Most stories suggested that they shared their goddess's insanity as well. "What? Why?" the paladin blurted out.

"He means why are we talking to a Matron Mother," Cessair said quickly, sensing that Lirayne's frayed patience was exceedingly thin at the moment. Nerves, perhaps? It really didn't bode well if a priestess of Lloth was anxious about the meeting as well.

Valyne smiled a little despite herself, knowing very well why they found the idea terrifying. She had never been able to see her mother in those legends even though she knew Siniira did have the capacity for nearly limitless cruelty when she was sufficiently motivated. The War of the Spider Queen had demonstrated that in abundance. "It will be apparent very shortly," she answered on Lirayne's behalf before putting a hand on the cleric's arm. "Sister, take a breath. Whatever happens, you have my support."

They both knew she was referring not to the Matron, but to Zesstra and the Patron. Neither would be pleased with Valyne's return and certainly not with Lirayne's part in it. That threatened to put the priestess in yet another precarious position. Then again, the cleric knew that her sister would probably have to deal with Keldzar before the end of the day which would undoubtedly be equally unpleasant. Lirayne just nodded, unable to bring herself to thank Val aloud. "Let's go," she said instead, making a mental note to repay her younger sister for this at some later date.

When those doors opened, the three surfacers followed their drow guide and the cleric even though dread hung in their chests like a lead weight. Cessair chewed at the inside of her cheek in apprehension while Storunn dragged his feet forward. Galen was clutching at the small symbol of Torm he usually wore around his neck that he'd removed and kept in his pocket at Lirayne's stern advice. All three were thinking the same thing: if Val or Lirayne turned on them, there was no way they would be able to escape. Not from a Matron Mother.

Cessair's breath caught in her throat as they approached the ivory throne and the slender drowess seated in it with regal poise, crowned in iron. It felt almost like she was looking into the future, at Valyne in a few centuries. Siniira Duskryn had aged with the grace of an elf, the barest suggestions of lines in her face and only a few threads of silver winding through her white hair. Even seated, the Matron held her head high and her shoulders back with an unmistakable air of pride. It was hard not to squirm when those storm-cloud eyes focused on her. In that moment, Cessair felt like all of her secrets were suddenly on display and her disguise nothing more than ineffective smoke. Whether or not that was true remained to be seen. And gods above did it make her feel small and insignificant.

When Valyne and Lirayne lowered themselves to one knee, their companions immediately mimicked them. Galen was pretty sure that they'd even beaten the drow to the ground. He could feel the divine energy radiating off the Matron in an aura nearly equal to Val's profane one. A cleric so powerful, particularly one devoted to battle, would be able to rip through their group in a heartbeat. Certainly, they had fought powerful demons with ease, but not one of those creatures had been wielding the wrath of a goddess.

"Rise," Siniira commanded, voice low and even. It was fortunate the Matron had centuries of practice maintaining her composure. All she really wanted to do was throw her arms around her youngest and never again let go. However, such displays of emotion were not appropriate in public. Ever. "I am pleased, Lirayne. Few who have the audacity to venture into the tunnels alone at the best of times return. You impress."

Lirayne felt her face flush and the faintest hint of a smile that couldn't be contained creep across her features. She had never received a compliment or commendation like that from either the Matron or the Patron before-there had always been some fault to find, and when they were pleased, they tended to treat it as though her success was expected. It eased a sting she hadn't realized was there. Maybe she wasn't the favorite, but for a moment she was at least valued. "Thank you, Matron."

Siniira rose from her seat and moved down the steps. Ten years of exile were not so easy to bridge with words and the Matron found herself almost overwhelmed in front of Valyne. Her face remained impassive, but her eyes were expressive: regret, relief, concern, elation, uncertainty, affection, and so much pride. "Valyne." For the rest of her days, the Matron of House Duskryn would pride herself on the fact that she managed to keep her voice steady.

"Matron."

They both seemed to be searching the silence for words. Siniira found hers first. "It is good to have you back, daughter," she said. No matter what was in Valyne's blood, she would always be the baby girl Siniira had held tightly in her arms so long ago.

"At your command, Matron, as always." Val couldn't help her smile. For the first time, the strange feeling of being home finally sank in as real.

"We have much to discuss," Siniira said smoothly, regaining herself without an outward sign that she had ever been struggling to sort through her thoughts. The fact that she had acknowledged her daughter and not summoned the guard was an unmistakable sign to the whole house: Valyne's exile was at an end. "But now is not the time or place. And there's the matter of these...others."

"They're allies, Matron. We encountered a significant demonic presence and they were invaluable in aiding us against them," Lirayne said. The original plan had been for Valyne to broach the subject so that the Matron would be less likely to lose her temper, but the cleric stepped up to take the brunt of the force her mother might summon instead. She owed Valyne.

Siniira was quiet for a moment, calculating. A paladin of good-Galen was not the only one who could detect auras-, a shield dwarf, and a very faerie-looking tiefling. She said nothing, simply arching an eyebrow at her second daughter. Galen hadn't thought it possible, but the original expression was even more intimidating than Valyne's version.

"We would not be standing before you without their assistance, Matron," Val said, supporting Lirayne just as she'd promised that she would. It was strange, but welcome, to be in accord with her sister on anything in front of the House.

"Very well. They are permitted to remain as guests," Siniira said. She didn't exactly approve, but she was willing to acquiesce to the wishes of her children in this particular situation. For all of the drow disdain for non-drow, Siniira refused to be anything less than the very soul of hospitality towards her guests. It made negotiations with other races proceed that much smoother. "Nalfein, if you would show them to the appropriate quarters? Gently."

The grizzled veteran saluted and gestured to another two of the guards, leading the three surface dwellers out of the audience hall through a side door towards the rooms reserved for guests. He didn't like the idea of being polite to these strangers, but he knew that Siniira would flay him alive if he disobeyed without very, very good reason.

"I think it's time we moved this conversation to my quarters," the Matron said, looking over her daughters. The Abyssal taint in Valyne was absolutely unmistakable, certainly befitting a half-demon. Apparently Malcanthet hadn't lied about that much. Lirayne looked unchanged, save for the fact that her looser robes fit snugly in the abdomen now. Which was...strange. The warlike priestess was rarely out of battle long enough to even begin to put on weight.

Lirayne almost winced at her mother's attention. "I'll explain in private," she said quietly, earning yet another elevated eyebrow from the more powerful cleric.

Val had found Zesstra with her eyes, grinning almost wolfishly at the brief flash of naked fear that crossed her eldest sister's face. As quickly as it had come, the emotion was hidden by a faint sneer of contempt. But they both knew that the arcanist had seen it. You'd better hope I never get you alone, Zesstra. She turned back to the Matron and Lirayne, content to follow them out of the audience hall for a far more private conversation.

"You should have told me," Siniira said sternly, giving Lirayne her best armor-piercing glare. She had remained silent through the entire rendition of the tale, with her daughters each filling her in on certain aspects they were more familiar with. "Goddess, Lirayne, how could you be so stupid? Running off into the Wilds while pregnant!"

"We survived," Lirayne said. She crossed her arms defensively, even though she was grateful that her mother was treating her no differently despite the truth of what had happened in her encounter with the demon. The last thing she wanted was pity, particularly with how raw and exposed she felt. It was one thing to tell Val and an entirely different matter to confide in the woman who ruled their House. "It's over and done with. And with the forces we're up against, it was necessary."

Siniira grimaced, well aware that the younger cleric had a valid point. "And to think Yvonnel wonders why I have gray in my hair," she murmured with a heavy sigh, removing her circlet to massage her temples without something in the way. "Never again, Lirayne. Promise me."

"Never again," Lirayne said dutifully. It was an oath she was all too happy to make.

"You investigated while we were gone, I assume," Valyne said to smooth things over, knowing that her sister would need a little bit of time to pull herself completely back together. "Did you find anything?"

"Shami-Amourae cannot cross into the Material Plane without a proper vessel. From what I've gathered, the prison realm she is currently in would trap a physical body if she tried to just walk out through a portal. That is her interest in Lirayne's child." The Matron spoke in measured tones, trying to get a feeling of where her daughters stood on the subject. From the way the cleric's shoulders curled forward and she seemed to shrink into herself, at least Lirayne was not looking forward where this conversation was inevitably headed.

Val was not immune to the chill of dread sweeping through her body either, but she was in a better place to fight than her sister. "Matron, no," the arcanist said, her voice a little harsher than she would have liked. "You of all people should understand."

"I do. But I also have to think of Menzoberranzan and the whole Material Plane. We cannot guarantee that Shami-Amourae will not be able to simply possess her chosen vessel at birth if the child lives," Siniira said, running her fingers through her hair. She made no attempt to hide her own conflicted feelings about the subject. "It isn't a good path, but it is the best one. That said, the decision is not mine to make. Lirayne?"

The priestess had stood up while her mother was speaking, turning her back towards both of them so they wouldn't see her distress. Her hands curled into tight fists around the cloth of her sleeves as she hugged herself, rocking back and forth on her heels. Tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes even as she tried to swallow the painful knot in her throat. This was beyond unfair. The only, only good thing to come out of all of this and now the universe wanted to take it from her. Anything. Anything but this. To think she had spent just last night sitting next to Valyne by the fire and tossing chunks of Storunn's dreaded biscuits into the flames while trying out names for her daughter, laughing whenever her sister vetoed a suggestion by making a face.

"Lir-" Val started to say.

A tremor ran through the cleric's whole body and she slammed her fists against the wall in a display that was half desperation and half rage. "You promised me!" It was meant to be a shout but came out as something more like a wail. She had managed to withstand so much without cracking and crumbling under the pressure. Lirayne hated it. The helplessness, the weakness, the swallowing despair that threatened to consume what was left of her world. She could feel her hands bruising and battered them against the wall without stopping anyway. Years and years of conditioning were the only thing stopping her from weeping like a worthless child in front of her mother. And with that release denied, the only thing she had left was her temper.

Valyne rose, knowing that the cleric was nearing the force that would break the bones in her own hands. She caught a wrist and pulled Lirayne away from the wall. She didn't shrink when the blows struck against her shoulders and ribs instead, knowing that her sister needed this. "I promised," Val acknowledged. "Lirayne, look at me." Never in her life had she seen an expression of heartbreak equal in its anguish to the one written across the priestess's face. Drow were not meant to love, not taught to love, but that didn't mean they were incapable of it or immune to the pain of losing whatever it was they held dearest. "We'll find another way, sister. I said I would do anything you needed from me. I meant it."

Siniira inclined her head in a nod, acknowledging the decision. She was by no means a good woman, but she would not inflict that kind of torture on her own flesh and blood. "We do not have an unlimited amount of time to research our options. What were you thinking, Valyne?"

"Go into the Wells of Darkness and confront Shami-Amourae there," the demonbinder said, allowing Lirayne to relax into her. They were hardly beyond the possibility of losing her child, but the priestess was willing to accept any glimmer of hope no matter how faint it seemed. "It may be difficult given the nature of the plane, but not impossible."

The Matron frowned deeply. "Valyne, that is a prison designed to contain demon lords, many of whom are gods in their own rights. Piercing its defenses and slaying Shami-Amourae is child's play compared to escaping from such a place. It would, in all likelihood, be a one-way trip," Siniira said.

"I can't ask that of you," Lirayne said hoarsely, closing her eyes in a feeble effort to steel herself for her sister's inevitable backpedal.

Val shrugged a little. "Good thing you don't have to ask," she said with a lightness that belied her own grim thoughts. She knew who would be going into the Abyss after their foe and honestly, she wouldn't have had it any other way. Her soul was already tainted and twisted beyond repair anyway and if Malcanthet was right, this was only the beginning. "But you know that if I get trapped, you're going to have to kill Zesstra for me. Just make it slow and agonizing."

Lirayne choked on her stunned laughter, shaking her head from side to side. "Why?"

A thousand answers to that question surged into Val's thoughts. Because throwing myself into the impossible is what I do best. Because I want to tear Shami-Amourae's face off and cram it down her gullet with my claws. Because I can never be Matron with so much demon blood in my veins. Because Mother would do it if she were in my place. Because your little girl hasn't done a thing to deserve this. Because it feels right. All those and so many more reasons flitted across her consciousness. "It doesn't matter," she said aloud, exchanging a look with her mother. There was immeasurable sorrow in the Matron's gray eyes, but it was tempered with pride and an unmistakable affection.

Siniira understood. "We'll need to raise the city's forces to handle the demons and cultists at Niar'hannenlyn. I'll discuss our plan with Yvonnel. She may be able to find us a ritual that will transport you into the Wells of Darkness, presuming the demons don't have a portal of their own," the Matron said with her usual calm deliberation. "All of that can wait for a time. You both need to rest while you have the opportunity. I will see what I can do to keep Zesstra and Zekatar away from you."

"Thank you, Matron," Lirayne said, her voice still raw and thick.

Siniira just nodded, silent until her children were halfway out the door. "I am proud of you both," she said in the succinct and even tone she reserved for sentiments that she genuinely meant. Both of her daughters held their heads a little bit higher at the praise despite everything that had happened.