"You cannot simply go running into any battle you can find because of grief!" Siniira snapped, staring down her younger daughter. The glare back lasted a good few seconds before finally lowering in a sullen sort of obedience. The Matron took a deep breath. They were standing together in her quarters, maps spread across the table between them. "Quenthel Baenre is not to be trusted."

"We have scouts in the area," Lirayne said with deceptive steadiness, her hands clenched into fists. She was not in the mood to be told anything, the temper she had so carefully checked for so long now wildly out of control. So far she hadn't even trusted herself to be around her daughter without exploding. "They've seen the same thing. There's a camp there and it has surface dwellers. This close to Menzoberranzan? We would be foolish not to investigate."

"Which is Baenre's duty as First House, not ours. We have done more than enough in the past to halt outside threats," Siniira said, her tone still sharp even though she felt sympathy for her daughter. It was cruel, what she was enduring. But it was also the only natural end to that kind of relationship. The truth had from Yvonnel's lips rather than from Lirayne's, but she knew either way. The paladin of Torm was dead. "Besides, this is too obvious. It has to be a trap."

"You're assigning to aasimar a level of cunning they do not possess," Lirayne said. "Are we really just going to stand by? If Quenthel gave us this information, it's because Matron Baenre wants us to do something about it."

"And she can wish and want all she likes," Siniira said, digging in her heels more. Right now, relations between them were an irresistible force hitting an immovable object.

"I will go alone if I have to," the younger drowess hissed out through clenched teeth. Dried blood still clung to her destroyed nails from where she'd lashed out at Yvonnel and then again at the wall when the Revered Daughter left her unattended. Her hands ached and tingled from hitting stone, bruised but unbroken.

"I forbid it," the Matron of House Duskryn ordered in a tone that suggested dissent was extremely dangerous.

"How do you plan to stop me, Mother? With guards that are as loyal to me as they are to you?" Lirayne said, her voice slowly rising towards a shout. There was an unspoken threat there. It was their first real argument in more than a decade, each keeping to their own enough that they didn't step on the other's toes. At least until now.

The door eased open, snapping both of them out of an argumentative mood. Llolfaen poked her head in cautiously. She hadn't been able to hear through the wards of silence, but she had seen the state of her mother's room and assumed the worst. Which wasn't all that far off. "Matron? Mother?" she said carefully, well aware of the charged tension in the room. She had not survived to adulthood because she lacked perceptive abilities. "Alystin Druu'giir is here with Inquisitor A'Daragon and the Revered Daughter. They would respectfully like a word."

Siniira cleared her throat before looking meaningfully at her daughter. "We will resume this discussion later."

It was, however, taken up much sooner than that. Virtually in the same moment as the pair of them emerged, they heard Yvonnel speaking. "...celestials cannot be permitted to wander loose beside Menzoberranzan. And I don't care if you don't like it, you're going."

Sabal bit back the urge to sigh. "Yes, Revered Daughter," she said, feeling her bonds of duty cutting into her thoughts. The chain on her soul was rattling and it was best not to rattle it back. "Are you sure you have to come, Aly? It will be dangerous."

"I...need to," Alystin said by way of explanation. How else could she convey Asaron's instructions that came from the demon lord she served? Even with Sabal, there were limits. The inquisitor didn't seem terribly thrilled with her choice to follow the piper of power into the influence of the Abyss. "Nede wouldn't be happy to hear you were going without me. And someone has to watch out for Her Highness here."

Llolfaen scowled. "Watch your tongue, mage," she said warningly, confident in her own power despite her youth. Her irritation doubled when she saw Yvonnel smirk at her before hiding the expression behind a hand. Her whole face seemed to scream 'They grow up so fast'. The expression vanished, however, when she saw Lirayne and Siniira.

"This is drawing the Church's attention now?" Siniira said, arching an eyebrow at the small group.

"Lloth commands it," Yvonnel said. She was avoiding looking at Lirayne, fully expecting the resentment that might burn there. She had been the one to strike the blow. That was enough.

"If my daughter is going, I'm going," Lirayne said flatly. She didn't even look over at the Matron. She knew there would be disapproval there.

"I could say the same," Siniira said, knowing that now was the time to bend. Besides, if Lloth commanded it, that meant there was more to it than just a handful of very, very lost celestial creatures. The last thing she was going to do was abandon Lirayne and Faen in this battle, no matter how much she trusted Yvonnel to bring them home safely. As a mother, this time she wasn't satisfied. And with the city safe there was no need to remain to marshall a defense. "Zesstra is more than capable of watching the House for a week or two."

"Unless she tries to seize power in your absence," Lirayne said. She knew it wasn't beyond her sister's scruples in the slightest.

"How successful do you really think she would be?" the Matron said with a small smile, almost as if she was looking forward to such an attempt. And perhaps she was—in many ways, Siniira had yet to forgive her eldest for Valyne's exile despite the lack of favoritism in how she treated her daughters. She was less demanding of Llolfaen, but probably only because of the new priestess's youth.

Yvonnel stepped forward and pulled Siniira away from the group by her arm, careful and insistent rather than rough. She knew when not to push her luck even as she put her lips close to the Matron's ear. "Do not take the field, Siniira," she warned, voice soft and low so the others wouldn't hear. They could all see, though, and looked startled. No one touched a Matron Mother that way and no Matron would ever suffer that kind of touch without a severe punishment.

"I will do whatever I please," Siniira said in a quiet voice that mirrored Yvonnel's, narrowing her eyes. She jerked her arm out of the priestess's grip. "I stayed out of the fight once and I lost a daughter. Now I might lose another as well as her child."

"If you go, I cannot protect you," Yvonnel said. "Stay, Siniira. This is not your battle. It belongs to Faen. You were never a woman to fight for any cause not your own."

"I do not need your protection," the Matron said coldly, still only in the Revered Daughter's hearing.

Yvonnel dropped all pretenses for a moment with her back to the others. "Sin, please. I will beg you if I have to. Just stay," she murmured pleadingly. It was a nickname she hadn't used for centuries. "For my sake. For their sake. Stay. It doesn't have to be this way."

It actually stopped Siniira in her tracks for a moment, the Matron Mother's eyes widening. But then she recovered her composure and squared her jaw. "There is nothing you can do, Yvonnel. I will go. It is already decided. You know how singleminded I am."

Yvonnel let her hand fall and searched Siniira's face as if looking for some invisible answer. Whatever it was, she seemed to find it. "Maddeningly so," she acknowledged, knowing this was a battle she couldn't win. In private, she might have resorted to every dirty trick she had, up to and including drugging Siniira. But here in public just before they left? There was no chance she could change this course no matter what she'd seen. And it...hurt. The priestess turned around from their little conference and glared. "What in the Abyss are you four gaping at? Get ready to go and we'll meet back here in an hour's time. Siniira, please bring a full patrol of soldiers. This is not a child's playtime."

"You will not regret this," Siniira said more softly. She knew that she'd left some wound if Yvonnel was this rigid after being so vulnerable. How to mend that, she didn't know. So the best she could do was be grateful that the priestess had relented and soldier forward on her course.

"I already am," Yvonnel said harshly, keeping her back turned as if to keep the Matron at a distance. Her eyes focused on Sabal, who was watching her as well. Goddess only knew what the wilder had sensed off her when her armor was down. Whatever it was, the amber-eyed drowess was being remarkably quiet on the subject. Apparently she had learned when to be silent from Xullae, if nothing else. The wilder and the mage were already ready to go, just as she was. She still hadn't had a chance to change out of her armor since Lirayne had mauled it, leaving streaks of blood across the adamantine armor. Mercifully, no one had asked. And they likely wouldn't now that she seemed to have the temperament of an enraged balor.

That was strange enough in and of itself for Sabal. She knew the Revered Daughter's moods quite well and never, never did Yvonnel show her anger as anything other than the frozen bite of a cold knife's blade. Whatever had been said between her and Siniira, it was something unforgivable. Yvonnel had said something to the Matron that had shocked the proud woman to her core, taking her completely aback. What that was? Anyone's guess. For a moment, she had just sensed a maelstrom of unshielded emotions whirling across the surface of her own mind, filled with the same pain she'd caught once from Yvonnel. And with it was a feeling of overwhelming powerlessness. From what Sabal could guess, the Revered Daughter knew something that no one else knew and she couldn't do anything about it.

It must have been that dream, that vision. Sabal was certain that could be the only revelation that would change Yvonnel's demeanor like this. "Aly and I are ready, Revered Yvonnel," the wilder said instead of pressing for any answers as Siniira left them to don her armor and hone her weapons. "Her spells are already prepared."

"Fine," Yvonnel said dismissively. The psion caught a hint of gratitude from the servant of Lloth.

It took maybe a half hour to get everything ready to go, if that. Siniira kept her army as ready as possible, so acquiring one unit for a patrol was nothing. Lirayne was uncharacteristically quiet as they headed out into the wilds of the Underdark beyond the city's walls and the carefully tamed passages. "Do you want to talk about the fact that we have two unhinged priestesses?" Aly asked Yvonnel softly at the forefront of their force. Sabal was ahead scouting as only a psion could.

"One. Lirayne. And no, I don't want to talk about it," the Revered Daughter said tersely.

"She's not the only one," Alystin said quietly. "Sabal saw Llolfaen's thoughts near V'sal. They were...shattered, she said. And something else spoke to us using her body."

Yvonnel stilled for a moment, seeming to consider this. Then she resumed walking normally as if nothing had happened. "Fine, so we have two. As if Lloth has any other kind of priestess," she said almost sourly. It was an almost Aly-like thought. Hearing it from the Revered Daughter was jarring for Alystin.

"And the Matron Mother?"

The look that Yvonnel gave her nearly pinned her to the wall, squirming in pain. Aly felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to be literally anywhere else in the world. "Don't push me, mage. You're alive because of my good graces," the Revered Daughter hissed. "Now I'm going to go plan strategy. Tell Sabal that when she comes back." With that, the priestess turned and moved back through the ranks of the patrol to where Siniira was in conference with her daughter. It wasn't heated like their earlier conversations had been.

"...we can't do anything until we know more," the Matron said firmly. "We need to stop for a rest anyway. It's been hours and everyone is tired."

"Sabal should have something to report by the time we're ready to move," Lirayne said. She was confident in the wilder's abilities as much as her capacity to move scouting even while tired. At that, the order went out for everyone to make camp in the cavern that the path branched out into. It was a mushroom grove, the fungus standing as tall as trees with caps for shelter. Grass-like strands glowed in a blue-green light as they grew up from the floor, matching the soft purples and warm yellows around them. It cast the area in a soft, resplendent light that only the Underdark could provide. Strange colors and beauty alongside terrifying danger. They could hear the soft rushing of water some distance away as well.

Even the priestesses of House Duskryn took care of laying out their own bedrolls and handling their own supplies. There was no expectation that anyone would do anything for them. They were in armor and headed to battle like everyone else, after all. Yvonnel found Siniira at the edge of their camp, headed towards the river with waterskins. "Did you want to talk or were you just going to keep sulking?" Siniira asked. It was a bit sharper than she knew Yvonnel needed right now, but they might be overheard.

Yvonnel found she didn't want to say anything. She was more interested in just being present in the moment, knowing that unpleasantness waited just around the corner. Like Sabal had said before she left to scout, Yvonnel too could feel that knot of dread forming in her stomach. She held out her hand for a few of the waterskins. "Do we have a plan?" she said coolly.

"A straightforward attack. We can communicate with lights during the battle if something has to change. Soldiers can hit the bulk while we bolster or assault as needed. How many healing spells have you prepared?"

The Revered Daughter took the empty waterskins, frowning slightly at the question as they approached the river's edge. The rushing, ice-cold water had carved a channel into the hard rock and vanished at the other end of the cavern into a dark and somewhat forbidding hole. Thankfully, they would not have to cross it—it ran along the edge of the open area. "They're all I have readied."

Siniira raised an eyebrow. Yvonnel always had offensive spells ready. It was one of the constants of the universe. The Revered Daughter loved nothing more than to inflict pain on the deserving or undeserving alike. She wasn't a woman to discriminate even in her best of moods. "What has gotten into you? First you demand that I stay, then you're sullen like a child, and now you're walking around without any defense?"

"It's just a feeling," the servant of the Yath'Abban snapped, tired of being needled by everyone around her. The only one who could leave her alone about it was Sabal, who unfortunately had vanished ahead of them. She wished the wilder back just so she had some companion who seemed to understand. She wasn't sure what it was herself, so how could she explain to Siniira? All she had were fading flashes of memory from Lloth's vision. They never clung to her consciousness long, as if taken away by the Spider Queen as swiftly as they'd been given. "Will you stop for a moment? Just one. All I want is some time."

"I'm sorry I pushed," Siniira said, touching Yvonnel's arm. The Matron Mother knew it was time to pull back. She'd just never seen her not-quite-rival so out of balance. The touch seemed to anchor the priestess a little, certainly calming her down. The moments they spent filling waterskins was back to a sort of companionable silence like they usually shared. Instead of immediately rising and heading back for the camp, Yvonnel sat down at the water's edge and watched the torrent rush by her. She could feel the cold spray against her cheeks as it set a chill into her bones. But she didn't care. She couldn't quite go back to camp and to sleep so soon.

"Do you remember when I asked you what the most important thing in the world was to you?" Yvonnel asked finally, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Siniira said, revisiting that conversation from so long ago. It was just after Lirayne was born. When they'd had the conversation, her daughter had been sleeping over her heart as an infant. "I said my family. And you said you didn't know."

"I know," Yvonnel said. She didn't elaborate, just sitting quietly in the moment.

Back at the camp, Aly felt a chill behind her in the bedroll. "Someone's going to see," she whispered, feeling Sabal's cold arms slip around her in the darkness. At that moment, the inquisitor had never been so grateful that she had someone to return to. The warmth that she felt was more than just Alystin's body heat.

"Don't care," Sabal murmured, exhaustion creeping over her. She hid her face in Aly's thick white hair and lost herself in the familiar smell of books and ink and magic. In the familiar feeling of the wizard's body pressed against her own. She'd stripped off her armor as soon as she'd come close. She sighed, content as could be. And truth be told, Alystin was too. She relaxed a little as she felt Sabal's mind curl against her own. It was a strange feeling, but a comfortable one now that she'd become accustomed to it.

"Of course you don't," the mage said, gently chiding. "You never care what anyone thinks."

"Because I can kill them," the amber-eyed drowess mumbled, pressing a kiss just behind one pointed ear. She felt a shiver run through the mage's body at the touch. Neither of them were going to do anything in the middle of camp, but it was nice to feel wanted and to bask in the warmth.

"You're too tired to kill anything." Aly rolled over so she could touch her forehead to Sabal's.

"I would for you."

Alystin smiled, tracing her fingers over the scar that ran horizontally across Sabal's face. She brushed her fingertips along one cheekbone, up and over the bridge of the wilder's nose, and to the other cheek where it vanished in the rolled up spare blanket serving as their pillow. "You're sweet when you're exhausted," she said. "Now go to sleep."

Sabal needed no further prompting. Already she could barely keep her eyes open. Tomorrow would bring what it would bring and she would simply live with it. As long as she had Aly, the wilder reasoned, everything would be alright.