D&D 5e Menzoberranzan- Drow of the Underdark (IC)

[purepolarpanzer]

House Miliskree- Matron Miliskree's Audience Chamber

No one could accuse Matron Damia Miliskree of being merciful. The prisoner, a merchant of the House named Filump, was dragged into the audience chamber by two members of the House Guard, the Matron's personal cadre of warriors. He was badly beaten and burned, with blood running down his head from a wound that nearly scalped him. There was no blubbering and weeping, only resolute silence and the echo of footfalls as the prisoner was dragged across the stone floor to rest in front of the most powerful woman in the House. Even the damned knew better than to show weakness in Drow society. The Matron Mother sat on a large central throne on a raised dais carved from pure obsidian, while her First Daughter, Valier, stood to her right and her Second Daughter, Moinara, stood to her left. By Damia's order, the rest of the House's nobility, retainers, and elite were assembled on either wide of the chamber to watch the execution. No one had been told it was an execution, but there was no doubt in the heart of anyone in the House that the merchant known as Filump was doomed.

"Filump... I am so disappointed in you." The Matron's voice, as always, came out in a cold, emotionless rasp. It was whispered among the House that her older sister had cut her throat when they were both young, a story supported by the long white line of scar tissue across Damia's throat, but no one would dare speak of it anywhere near the Matron. However it ended up that way, her voice was quiet enough that everyone in the room had to strain to listen to her. Just the way she preferred it. "Who was it that found you in the slums, raised you up from nothing, and turned your skill with numbers into a profitable trade that could support your bad habits? Who was it that nurtured you, supported you, and allowed you to not only survive but thrive within the city?" There was a moment of silence before the male responded, his voice shaking either from pain or from fear.

"You. It was you, Matron Mother."

"And you repay me by conspiring with my competitors. Conspiring against the very House that elevated your wretched life from the Stenchstreets to hurt your home. Your family. Your Mother." Damia shook her head and clucked her tongue, leaning back in her seat. "And for what? Coin? Did I not pay you enough? Drugs? Did I not keep you well supplied? Women? Did I not keep you satiated? Why, Filump? Why did you betray me?"

"I'm... I'm sorry, Matron Mother. I made a mistake..."

"MISTAKE?!?" Suddenly the whole audience chamber could hear the magically enhanced voice of Damia Miliskree, resounding through their minds while it was silent to their ears. Unable to raise her voice above a loud whisper, the Matron had developed other ways of making herself heard. While her audible voice was always cool, level, and collected, the shriek that painfully tore into the mind of everyone in the chamber was filled with rage. "Filump, you dolt, you committed suicide when you made that decision! A slow, simpering suicide, but suicide nonetheless! The only question is what punctuation ends your sentence!"

Silence resumed in the chamber as the Matron leaned forward in her throne again and a spectral hand comprised of violet energy floated across to gently stroke at the merchant's neck, lifting his head upwards. "Tell me, Filump. Who misled my poor lamb? Who tempted you into making the worst decision of your life? Tell me, and I promise to be merciful." The merchant began to tremble against the caress of the ethereal hand, obviously wracked in pain by it's touch. His eyes began to bulge, blood began to run from his ears, nose, and mouth, and he started to seize. TALK.

"It was Deluven! Deluven Feldraine! He paid me! Please, Matron Mother, it hurts so bad!" His bravery and strength washed away by the pain, Filump slumped as the spectral hand dissipated into smoke, his head sinking to his chest with a relieved moan. There were enough surprised whispers about the room to be audible to all. House Feldraine was a more prominent and favored House in Menzoberranzan, but they had been nothing but courteous to House Miliskree since they rose out of the ashes of the conflict that heralded their ascension. Deluven was the Second Son of the House. Then Damia began to speak, and the room went dead silent again.

"Poor, lost Filump. What my torturers couldn't extract from you for a week, you divulged to me in a second. I am honored by your respect to your Matron. In light of your honesty, I grant you a painless death. Let none say House Miliskree is not merciful." The House Guard on either side of the merchant hurriedly moved away, getting off of the large spider etched into the central floor of the audience chamber. With a gesture, freezing cold water began pouring down from the ceiling onto Filump drowing out a pitiful scream. A half second later, the stone beneath him pulled away to either side, and the hapless male was washed away. The Drain was the most famous feature of House Miliskree, a natural source of clean water that served the House both as running water and the final punishment of many who failed or angered the Matron Mother. It was whispered that the water had anti-magic properties so that even Drow nobles couldn't survive the drop to a large outcrop of stone in Lake Donigarten. With another gesture the water stopped, the stone slid back into place, and Damia stood. "Thank you all for joining me for this informative meeting. You are all dismissed. I must meet with my daughters to discuss our next steps." Leave us.

As the crowd began to leave the chamber, each of you feels the tickle of small arachnid feet climbing up your cheeks. For some of you, the initial reaction may be to swat at the creature, but it is well known in Menzoberranzan that to kill a spider carries a death sentence. When the arachnid makes it up to your ears, it whispers a message, obviously carried by magic, in the voice of Moinara, Second Daughter. Then it leaps away.

By the order of the Matron Mother each of you is to meet me in the Hanging Gardens during Narbondel's Death tonight. It is of the utmost importance that you keep this a secret for now. Do not be late.

In a Cavern Outside of House Miliskree

Ahlysaaria had been holed up in this cavern for nearly a week now, but her stay had been luxurious compared to her time in the depths of the Underdark since she failed her test. Servants had brought her fine food, clean water, and even modified clothing bearing the House seal. But each servant had also come with a message from her Mother- wait and be patient. But tonight was different. This evening a small spider climbed up Ahlysaaria's web, and her youngest sister's voice whispered out, almost too quiet to hear.

"Cursed sister, now is the time for you to return to the House. Mother is pleased that you have returned, and has promised to do all within her power to alleviate your... condition. But first there is work to be done. Great work that will serve to undermine Valier and prepare your return. At Narbondel's Death you are welcome to come to the Hanging Gardens. The slaves and House Guard have been instructed to escort you. After a brief meeting you will be shown to your new room, just as I promised. Our time is coming, older sister. Just be patient a while longer.

[Bobthewizard]

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/role-play/images/b/b1/Drow.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20151205163646
Kita Duskrym (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296303)
Drow Warlock 4
AC: 14 HP: 31/31
Spell Slots: 2 / 2
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: none

Kita enjoyed the execution. She knows that betrayal is common, but thinks how stupid was this man to let himself get caught. I would never allow that. No one would ever be able to catch me.

Hearing the spider on her shoulder, Kita isn't surprised. This is often how Moinara sends messages. She would go back to her room and wait for the appointed time.

Her room isn't much. She and her mother and sister had been given a small 2 bedroom apartment in one of the towers, barely more luxury than the favored slaves. "But at least we weren't fed to the spiders." her mother always tells her. Kita shares the smallest bedroom with her older sister, Taya. Taya is good at keeping her head down, and both she and their mother, Mika, do some sort of administrative work for the Mother. Kita still isn't quite sure what they do, but knows that it sounds boring.

While they gave most of their belongings to Mother Milskree in exchange for this protection, they managed to keep a few personal things from their past life. A few sets of china and silver, some nice clothes, and a copper cooking pot, in addition to some of her mother's jewelry. It is enough that Kita can pass as a noble in good standing when she goes out of the flat, but not enough to hide the dreary nature of their compromise while she is there. The suite is grey and lonely, with none of the tapestries or trophies of her old home. She hates it in that small apartment, with the judging eyes of her mother and sister, and tries to spend as much time as possible away, even if it is just to climb the ceilings of Menzoberranzan or explore the Dark Dominion.

But for now, she goes back to rest before her meeting with Moinara. She hates her apartment, but she knows it is safe. At the appointed time, she heads over to the Hanging Garden. One can't keep a true daughter waiting.

"Goodbye, mother, Taya. I hope you both have a good evening. I have important business with Moinara tonight."

She knows they both hate that despite Kita's mercurial nature, she has a better relationship with their host family than either of them. Kita is also hoping to see some of her friends at the meeting since she didn't get a chance to talk to them at the execution.

[Zero Prime]

https://i.postimg.cc/GtzLVtxt/maxresdefault.jpg
Khathrae'va, adopted daughter of House Miliskree, Drow Assassin (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296431)
AC: 14 | HP: 23 / 23 | Inspiration: 0
Passive Insight: 13 (+3) | Passive Perception: 17 (+7)
Active Effects: None.
Conditions: None.

Khathrae'va stood behind the Matron's daughters, however, she stood shoulder to shoulder with the other women who were not of Miliskree blood. Kathrae'va refused to be submissive to any woman within the House itself, despite her status as an adopted daughter of a minor house. What others did not know, is that Illystryth records had been removed from the litany because of Khathrae'va's intervention, and as the male's face bulged and twisted from the caress of necrotic energies, a cruel smile flitted across her face. Her hand disappeared into her cloak, her fingers gently brushing against the braid of Vondrhyl Illystryth, her mother. A tribute taken after her blade had ended her life, she looked across the chamber, noted the draconic features of the shadowborn warrior who had aided her in fighting clear to the heart of the doomed House.

The sluice of water marking the male's ignomious execution snapped her attention back to the present, the Matron dismissed them, Khathrae'va bowed, lower than the daughters of Miliskree, but not lower than any other woman present. After all, superiority, skill and strength must be noted, even if it was accompanied by both ambition and vanity. She walked backwards towards the exit, only turning and leaving as the last of the extended House and it's servants had already left, it was a game, linger long enough to allow those of lesser station notice, but not too long, that those of higher station would be offended. A subtle, but dangerous, distinction.

Once the chamber was cleared, she turned and stalked the hallways, nodding towards her adoptive sister, Kita, who was moving towards the apartments granted the survivors of Duskrym. She, herself, found the spiral staircase that descended to her own chambers, a low hanging tower, connected to the stalactite fortress by a series of narrow arched bridges, that artisans had crafted to appear as the web-like strands. She walked with confidence, pausing only as the spider reached her ear, transmitting the Matron's message directly to her thoughts. Once within her chambers, she stripped of her courtly raiments, padded across the room, to a large, wooden wardrobe, the wood was heavy, almost petrified, it had been worn smooth by the hands of many of Khathrae'va's ancestors, something of an heirloom, it was a thing of beauty, and rarity, taken from Illystryth's Matron's chambers. Opening the wardrobe, she dressed in fresh undergarments, a spider silk tunic, and dyed leathers, buckled across her slim hips, she secured a number of blades along the bandoleer that hung across her chest, one on the inside of her left wrist, and another inside flaring top of her right thigh high boot. A rapier hung from her hip, a small drow crossbow on her left, a quiver on her left thigh, and a dull blue cloak covered her shoulders, it's hood pulled high and forward.

She waited, patiently, until the last light of Narbondel faded, and then she moved, silent as a shadow itself, through the fortress proper, using servant's tunnels, and access, to move past the guards unseen until she came to the Hanging Gardens themself. She secured herself in a position where she would be able to watch those who entered the chamber, her own position concealed by the many hanging tiers of moss and lichen so familiar to her studies in toxins and poisons. She was, in fact, intensely curious to seem whom, other than herself, had received such unusual summons.

[Tycho42]

Quarfein stood impassively with the family as he watched the merchant being disposed off, wincing only slightly as his mother’s magically augmented voice boomed throughout the chamber. He was robes in silks of deep purple, interwoven throughout by spider webs, his voluminous hood down and his arms crossed within the sleeves of the robe.

House Feldraine, he thought, musing momentarily about what spells their wizards might hold, before he felt the spider ascend onto his shoulder, delivering its message to which he nodded, sharply. He made haste to his chambers, lower in the stalactite castle that was their home, and gathered what he needed for the brief excursion.

His chamber was circular, occupying the bottom of one stalactite and winding upwards like a windmill into three circles of ever increasing size. The bottom floor represented his living and greeting quarters where he welcomes visitors and supplicants. The second floor was his personal suite and study, and the third and largest his magical workshop, where he conducted the magical rites of the household. It was to this room that he went, snapping his fingers once as he went to gather his traveling spellbook.

At once, the ugly albino shape floated down to his side, it’s one eye looking surly and a rat tail hanging from its mouth. The gazer, a monstrous aberration of an aberration attended him. El, he called it, named in mockery of the Elven goddess...Drow goddess...who offered an alternative to their Spider Queen. “Be close, and let me know if you see anything I need to be aware of.”

He then made a series of arcane gestures as he cast a spell that would augment his defenses, the faint shimmer settling over him as he felt the magic take hold. Taking up his staff, a staff of carved stone - nearly weightless - he took a circuitous route towards the destination.

[Inmate XIII]

Sgail, Shadow Warrior of Clan Whedabra (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296264)
AC: 18 | HP: 37/37 | Inspiration: 0
Passive Insight: 11 (+1) | Passive Perception: 13 (+3)
Active Effects: None.
Conditions: None.
Unleash Incarnation: 3

Sgail passively watched the "trial" from a darkened corner of the room, leaning against the wall and not at all hiding his boredom. As it begins to come to a close, Moinara catches his eye and gives him a disapproving frown that can only convey one message: "Seriously?"

He sighs inaudibly and straightens up, his arms folded across his muscled chest. And as the water flushes away the hapless traitor, he only grunts. "Painless... Right..."

The crowd files out, but the dragonborn doesn't follow. He stands motionless, scanning the room with only his eyes. He remains still as a statue even as a spider crawls to his ear to whisper in, so that none would even be aware of what had transpired. Finally, when no one else is left in the room aside from the Matron and her Daughters, the Lady herself briefly flicked her eyes over Sgail's form. Her gaze lingered on him for less than a second, but the message was conveyed: her prized pet was dismissed; for now.

He inclined his head at her politely, eyes averted, then disappeared through the closest door. He was on the opposite end of the chamber of where he desired to be, but knew better than to cross the room to a more convenient door. Lingering in the Matron's presence when he was not wanted was more than just ill advised.

Instead he took a roundabout route back to his quarters, dipping into the kitchen to nick an apple on the way, ignored by all. Well, mostly ignored. The House's servants all got out of his way immediately while pretending not to see him; even the kitchen staff who would normally object to anyone but one of the House's members taking such a luxurious item as an apple from the pantry just looked the other way.

Honestly, he preferred it this way. It was certainly better than the derision or even outright hostility some of his peers faced from their employers.

He made it back to his small room among the servant's quarters and slammed the door behind him. The room was simple, but well-furnished. He had been given a bed sufficiently large for his size and a matching chair, as well as a chest full of clothes in Miliskree colors and a painter's easel at his request. Currently the only thing adorning the walls was a ragged tabard of House Illystryth, the only relic he possessed of his former masters.

He hadn't mourned for the demise of Illystryth, after all, he had only worked for them for three month. In fact, he technically had a hand in its passing, though that was hardly his fault, he had only done exactly as he had been ordered: protect one of the House's daughters. It wasn't his fault that said daughter decided to destroy the House and protecting her meant joining in their slaughter; in fact, he found the irony delicious.

Still, they weren't bad to him. Not good, but certainly not bad. They had treated him as more of a trophy than an able warrior, but they made sure he was comfortable. Also, their House colors, navy and royal purple, went well with black and he found wearing the tabard over his black armor very visually appealing. "Gotta remember to harass the quartermaster for a Miliskree tabard again. Not that he'll listen, he didn't the first twelve times.'

The first thing he did after barring the door was to shrug off his chain mail. Not that he expected anyone would be stupid enough to risk the Matron's wrath by harming him, but the first thing his trainers had taught him was to never trust a dark elf. After stretching out a bit and rolling his shoulders a few times, he filled a basin of water and washed his face, musing over the fact that some of the other servants said that the Miliskree spoiled him just because he had his own sink.

Then he slid his mail over the armor rack he was provided and stepped back to inspect it. Each link had been painted dull black as the suit was initially forged so that not a single one would reflect light, but he had needed to touch it up on occasion. Finding nothing wrong with it, he moved to his hammer and shield, painted with the same dull black, but highlighted with a glossy violet.

After testing the weight of each, he sat down with a whetstone and began to work on one of the edges of his shield that he found insufficiently sharp. When he finished working it to a razor, he mixed up a small batch of paint and made sure it looked as dark and menacing as it had before he started, then turned in for a nap.

At the appointed him, he pulled his armor back on over a fresh change of clothes and made his way to the gardens, but waited at the edge in the shadows, fully aware that he stuck out like a sore thumb but still uncomfortable stepping out into the open. "Only twenty-nine more years of this ****".'

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

Lhun Qwir felt nothing in particular at the show of Filump's execution. The mundane dramas of drow life and fickle nature of their other servants typically had little to do with her. Where they sought shallow purpose in ever-changing ambition bowed by fear and pretended to serve one master or another while only truly aiming to serve themselves, she was filled with true purpose. She didn't fault them for this failure, unlike her they were not created with purpose or personally gifted with purpose by the divine. At least, not a divinity that was any less fickle than they were.

When Filump fell, she felt only two things. Regret at the waste of what looked to be deliciously fatty and tender meat and satiation as she sipped the energy from his soul as it passed from this realm to the next. Only for this reason (because it takes some time for the body to finish falling) did she linger long enough not to be the very first to leave.

She showed no external reaction to the spider crawling on her or its whispered message, for a number of reasons. The first being that she was well used to this sort of thing. The second that her sense of physical discomfort had always been almost nonexistent. The third being that she knew she served best by keeping secrets as best she was able.
She simply made a mental note of the time and place she was supposed to go.

As she left the audience chamber she went to the house's main kitchen to restock a few supplies for her new master's personal one. While there she noted the presence of Sgail, another servant this house had acquired in absorbing another drow house in the way the house of her previous mistress' had been. As their duties did not intersect enough for the two of them to have yet had any reason to interact, she paid his presence no mind as she went about her chore.

After placing the items in Quarfein's kitchen and cleaning up a bit, she retired to her personal room that lay within the second floor of Quarfein's chambers. She entered through the door, typically left open except on the rare occasion Quarfein had a guest over during her rest period. There she placed her lantern upon a hook she had installed on the ceiling for it. She took a book off the bookshelf, black stained bone carved with a delicate floral pattern which was both far larger and more luxurious than she required for keeping the small armful of books she kept there, and place it upon her desk, a well crafted dark mushwood affair with several drawers and other useful features. She placed the book upon the desk and sat down for a time to finish recording the day's deaths, the final entry for the moment being Filump.
Finished with her task for Jergal for the day, she placed the book back and tidied up her rooms. Unnecessarily large, especially without a bed to occupy them. One room dedicated entirely to her collection of supplies, kept in neat organized rows and shelves. The other her personal quarters/study, sparsely occupied aside from the bookshelf, the large desk, a tall-ish marble end table (as an alternative place for her lantern to sit), and her high backed bleached bone "anatomically correct" chair (the arms made of arm bones, the feet feet bones, the high corners topped with skulls, etc.) with actual gold painted cushioning. The later of which she would rest in either facing the desk or the door in case her master might call for her. (Though when she was in a humorous mood she had occasionally rested inside the bottom shelf of the bookshelf.)

When she finished tidying her rooms, she set the dining table and, began making dinner for her master. As well as on this occasion for herself and their familiars. When the meal was ready she went to fetch master Quarfein. After pulling his usual chair away from the table for him to sit, she went to fetch the covered dishes. She revealed for his meal frog legs with a demi-glace, a filet of seared spicy eel, steamed and lightly oiled rubbed naturally buttery bulbous little gray mushrooms, a small salad sprinkled with nuts and something akin to olives with vinaigrette, and thin flat strips of cheesy crackers arrayed into a cluster of rough pyramids.
For her own meal, thin slices of medium rare meat. Demi-glaced gnome, seared spicy orc, and herb dusted human. Sitting together with just a few of the mushroom and crackers for the sake of aesthetics and texture of the meal.
For the familiars she set out plates beneath the table. Mostly small bones but one slightly larger one covered in the leftover meat juices and spices for El and the torso, arms, and head of a frog in the leftover demi-glace and an oiled orc eye for Thilivern.
Paired with their meals was a glass of chilled red wine so cool the glasses fogged and emitted vapor.

She was still not really used to dining with her mistress or master and was still somewhat concerned Quarfein might decide the impropriety of it was her fault (despite her having made sure to note it to him several times previously). But at least it was a more efficient use of time than making the meals separately. She did wonder as to his nature and inclinations, as most people she had ever dealt with were rather perturbed by her choice in (not strictly necessary) fare. If it could ever be said she didn't (while at a table at least), she would have been paying extra attention to proper and polite use of cutlery and dining etiquette.

After the meal she cleaned the dishes and the dining area (the familiars in particular were not neat eaters) and attended to some other chores until it was time to head out for the secret meeting. At which point she noticed her master preparing himself with magical armor. Thinking if he thought it necessary, then she should as well she did so. In her case the metal vines in her torso and about her head and neck and even those inked into her skin grew and bloomed into blue metallic roses until they completely covered her, then they faded out of sight of most mortal eyes.
She accompanied him from a few paces behind as he left, but said nothing as she couldn't be sure they were going to the same meeting or if it was just a coincidence they had been leaving at the same time. She thought this to have been the case for a while when their path diverged, only for shortly before they arrived for their paths to converge once more.

[Tycho42]

Quarfein’s Personal Quarters, Dining Area
Flashback

Quarfein eats the delightful repast that is set before him, watching as the creature that has comes to serve him does the same, knowing full well the nature of the meat that is consumed. When done, he raises his wine glass, musing once more and not the first time on where the food and drink actually goes when Lhun Qwir eats. He swirls the wine for a moment and then speaks, his tone deep and sonorous, accustomed to the incantation of spells.

“Tell me...for I find myself curious with the intrigue of the day...how were you created? What raised you to this state and why? I would know more of your nature, while we have time before our ‘appointment’”

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

Quarfein’s Personal Quarters, Dining Area
Flashback

Lhun finishes chewing and swallowing and delicately places her fork and knife down before replying, "My apologies Master, my knowledge of that subject is rather limited. I do not know the precise details. To the best of my knowledge it was my previous mistress, Mika Duskrym, who created me. Between what would seem to be likely based upon my physical appearance and what little she told me, it was a ritual with many expensive components. The least of which were the body and soul of the human woman I was before. The required silver and whatever number of roses gathered from the surface were implied to be only a small part of the expense."

She paused for politeness rather than any need for breath, as she had been taught that ceaselessly speaking until one was completely finished with their thoughts of a subject had a droning nature and could be seen as not taking the necessary measures to ensure that if her betters wished to interject they had suitable times to do so. As she was not interrupted at this time she continued, "In regards to why, I believe my previous mistress' reasoning was the most common reason for the creation of my kind. To acquire the service of a loyal, obedient, and intelligent servant when one does not believe they can find all of those qualities elsewhere. In my particular case, as you know, this came with the added duty to serve Jergal. An imposition on the time I am available to serve my mortal master, but a boon in whatever favor Jergal might bestow for supporting me in my duty to him and in the sense of the magical ability and knowledge bestowed upon me that can be used for my master's benefit. I have been told that this is a unique case, though I do not have adequate records to assure this is so given the rarity of my kind."

Once more she pauses and continues, "As for my nature, as you have been informed, it is the souls of those passing that I truly gain sustenance from rather than the flesh I dine on now. This is merely one of my few "natural" desires that are not born of necessity to my duties. Like lesser, or in some cases greater, undead beings this ability or desire to dine upon that which would be required sustenance for other creatures is not a sign of some form of life other than undeath. It would also be technically incorrect to say I "eat" souls, rather I siphon some of the energies before guiding them along their path. While I do need to rest unlike most undead, this is not sleep. It is merely a period of time in which my energies seek equilibrium and my physical form can readjust itself to as it was upon my creation. In this state I am aware of my surroundings, so if you have need of me I can exit this state to be of service to you."

She pauses again, this time taking a moment to think about anything else regarding her nature he may wish to know. "I do not believe the rose or roses used in my creation were originally blue. I have seen two others of my kind, one of which also had what I have been told is an unnatural color for roses to be. In their case, gold. I do not believe our creator has any control as to the outcome of the color or colors we present. I think it is either determined by some aspect of the soul used or is merely a matter that was left undefined or intentionally random by the original creator of the ritual. I do know other precious metals can be used in place of silver, as the other of my kind I previously mentioned, that was not the one with gold coloration, had been made with gold. However my mistress commented that this is a risky adjustment of the ritual that can have unpredictable consequences if one does not know how to properly adjust the ritual to compensate for this alteration. I believe her exact words were 'That kind of foolish risk by those messing with forces they do not comprehend just in the name of vanity is why my house refused their honey tongued offer.' "

"Did I satisfy your inquiry Master? Or did I fail to address a specific topic?" she asks, hands politely set upon her lap making no move to resume eating until Quarfein answers and returns to his own meal.

[Awful]

A talon gently brushed over the carapace of the spider, a caress over its bulbous carapace that belied the strength within the delicate arms of the creature that hung in the web.
"Sssister..." she murmured. "I hear."
Ahlysaaria, drider and outcast, smiled. Despite the gauntness developed over the last seven years, the pair of wicked fangs that peaked out over her full lips, her face still held its beauty, even as her hair had become long and untamed, draping down over her face except for a pair of hairpins. Gently she let the spider down onto her web, and watched as it scuttled off her web into the dark, before she turned her red eyes back on what she had been doing.

Half wrapped in silk, the goblin squirmed, terrified and bound. The family servants had brought her food, drink, but she'd learned in the seven years outside one could never have enough resources in your web.
"You're lucky..." she whispered. "I don't need to keep you any more."
The goblin's eyes briefly showed a flash of hope, but widened as she slowly reached for her glaive. One of the few things she'd managed to keep; it was six feet of smooth dark shroomwood, bound in fine bulette leather and tipped with a wicked curved blade over a decorative mass of red spider silk.
"I could bite you," She continued, as slowly she drew it back. "But why waste the venom?"
It flashed once, and the goblin's head toppled, only to get stuck a few feet down in the web. Paying it no further heed, the drider began to slowly walk towards the Hanging Gardens, enjoying the feel of wearing fresh clothing - all ceasing at the waist, for below that was nothing more than a giant spider, black and spindly with purple stripes across the abdomen and legs. She'd even been given a set of scale armour to cover her torso.

When the time was right, she approached the Hanging Gardens, feeling strange but elated. Of course, there would be difficulty ahead, but a thousand more years of exile would be unbearable. She approached quietly, from the roof, only descending when she needed to show her new house sigil to the house guards waiting for her.

[purepolarpanzer]

House Miliskree- The Hanging Gardens

The Hanging Gardens of House Miliskree are the second best known feature of the House, after The Drain. Far fewer enemies of the House got to see the Gardens, but in their own way they were far more integral to both punishing the House's enemies and it's finances simultaneously. Growing in hanging terraces, archway bridges, suspended plazas, and one central courtyard that connects the entire web-like structure were mosses, ferns, and mushrooms in a psychedelic playground of flora from all over the Underdark. It was said there were a thousand different species of plants and fungi in the Gardens, and each and everyone of them was either outright poisonous or able to be processed into a plethora of poisons, drugs, and medicines that were valued in Menzoberranzan and beyond. Beyond functionality, each and every bed of the Garden was artistically designed for beauty, harmonizing and juxtaposing each other in a lethal art display that was the pride of the Matron Mother. The entire Garden is dimly lit by phosphorescent mushrooms in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting thick shadows. A perfect place for a lover's retreat, an assassination, or a covert meeting.

In the central courtyard, known as the Stilled Heart, sits Moinara, changed out of her formal apprentice's robes and into a sleek, black, revealing spider silk dress that leaves little to the imagination. Matron Miliskree, being one of the youngest Matrons among all the Houses, has only had four children, and Moinara is the youngest, barely an adult by Drow standards. Her age has not stopped her from scheming and politicking just as much as any of her other siblings. Shorter and more voluptuous that your average dark elf, with pure white hair down to her waist, she awaits the party sitting on a bench in front of a cool, still pond, throwing crumbs of food to the albino fish who, through the generations, have lived in the Gardens as long as the family Miliskree itself.

When the first person arrives for the meeting, Moinara stands and throws the last husk of bread into the pond. "They kill the inbred ones, you know." She gestures to the pond, where a feeding frenzy has begun for the heel of the loaf. "Every generation there are some born with twisted backs, discolorations, or other undesirable traits. The slaves who keep up the Gardens fish them out and feed them to the spiders." She turns to Quarfein and gives an acidic smile. "Has anyone told you that Mother is pregnant, brother? The priestesses say it will be a boy. Maybe you will be lucky and it will be the odd fish out." Turning to Lhun, she flashes a winning smile. "And my brother's undead servant. An honor to have a representative of the skull seneschal with us tonight." As more and more of you filter into the Gardens, she winks and turns to Kita, then raises her eyes to the darkness above her. "Khath, come down and join us, will you? You and Kita make such a pair that I am loathe to see one without the other." Turning to Sgail as he filters in out of the shadows, her smile turns into something more serious. "Honored dragonborn warrior. Your blade will be put to service soon. I hope it hasn't lost it's edge since your former House fell." When the last member of the group comes into the Garden, they are escorted by two members of the House Guard. Moinara looks genuinely excited at this point. "Sister! It has been too long. Quarfein, you must remember our eldest sister, Ahlysaaria! I've arranged something of a family reunion for us all tonight!" Having given each of you some kind of individual greeting, she resumes her seat. "Some of you might not know each other very well. I suggest we remedy that before business begins. We need to wait for someone else, anyway." All trace of mirth, sarcastic or otherwise, drops away from her features. "He's late. I knew he'd be late."

[Tycho42]

House Miliskree- The Hanging Gardens

The Hanging Gardens of House Miliskree are the second best known feature of the House, after The Drain. Far fewer enemies of the House got to see the Gardens, but in their own way they were far more integral to both punishing the House's enemies and it's finances simultaneously. Growing in hanging terraces, archway bridges, suspended plazas, and one central courtyard that connects the entire web-like structure were mosses, ferns, and mushrooms in a psychedelic playground of flora from all over the Underdark. It was said there were a thousand different species of plants and fungi in the Gardens, and each and everyone of them was either outright poisonous or able to be processed into a plethora of poisons, drugs, and medicines that were valued in Menzoberranzan and beyond. Beyond functionality, each and every bed of the Garden was artistically designed for beauty, harmonizing and juxtaposing each other in a lethal art display that was the pride of the Matron Mother. The entire Garden is dimly lit by phosphorescent mushrooms in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting thick shadows. A perfect place for a lover's retreat, an assassination, or a covert meeting.

In the central courtyard, known as the Stilled Heart, sits Moinara, changed out of her formal apprentice's robes and into a sleek, black, revealing spider silk dress that leaves little to the imagination. Matron Miliskree, being one of the youngest Matrons among all the Houses, has only had four children, and Moinara is the youngest, barely an adult by Drow standards. Her age has not stopped her from scheming and politicking just as much as any of her other siblings. Shorter and more voluptuous that your average dark elf, with pure white hair down to her waist, she awaits the party sitting on a bench in front of a cool, still pond, throwing crumbs of food to the albino fish who, through the generations, have lived in the Gardens as long as the family Miliskree itself.

When the first person arrives for the meeting, Moinara stands and throws the last husk of bread into the pond. "They kill the inbred ones, you know." She gestures to the pond, where a feeding frenzy has begun for the heel of the loaf. "Every generation there are some born with twisted backs, discolorations, or other undesirable traits. The slaves who keep up the Gardens fish them out and feed them to the spiders." She turns to Quarfein and gives an acidic smile. "Has anyone told you that Mother is pregnant, brother? The priestesses say it will be a boy. Maybe you will be lucky and it will be the odd fish out." Turning to Lhun, she flashes a winning smile. "And my brother's undead servant. An honor to have a representative of the skull seneschal with us tonight." As more and more of you filter into the Gardens, she winks and turns to Kita, then raises her eyes to the darkness above her. "Khath, come down and join us, will you? You and Kita make such a pair that I am loathe to see one without the other." Turning to Sgail as he filters in out of the shadows, her smile turns into something more serious. "Honored dragonborn warrior. Your blade will be put to service soon. I hope it hasn't lost it's edge since your former House fell." When the last member of the group comes into the Garden, they are escorted by two members of the House Guard. Moinara looks genuinely excited at this point. "Sister! It has been too long. Quarfein, you must remember our eldest sister, Ahlysaaria! I've arranged something of a family reunion for us all tonight!" Having given each of you some kind of individual greeting, she resumes her seat. "Some of you might not know each other very well. I suggest we remedy that before business begins. We need to wait for someone else, anyway." All trace of mirth, sarcastic or otherwise, drops away from her features. "He's late. I knew he'd be late."


Quarfein looks at the creatures that Moinara is feeding, with bemused interest. “I had not heard, sister. Of course, the house can always use warriors. I’m sure our mother will utilize the new child wisely.”

As the others arrived, Quarfein greeted them all with a nod. When their eldest sister was mentioned, Quarfein barely concealed a frown. “Ahlysaaria. An interesting company you have assembled, indeed.” Once Moinara is seated, Quarfein sits as well.

[Inmate XIII]

Upon being addressed, Sgail approaches Moinara from the darkness, fiddling with his bracer absentmindedly as he casts an eye over her body, barely able to hide a lecherous smirk. "Honored, funny. You and Khath are the only ones who treat me like I'm something more than an animal," he mutters. Glancing over at the drider he frowns. "Y'know... I had heard you and your mother talking once or twice about your 'missing sister', but I had assumed you or one of your other sisters killed her. This is much worse."

He turns back to Moinara with a glare "And as I have told you and Matron Miliskree before: I keep my weapons and myself in top shape. Always."

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

Lhun bows deeply with perfect poise after being addressed, but says nothing and just remains standing. On the inside she was a bit surprised to be addressed at all, despite being invited, much less with respect. Though she supposed it made some sense if Moinara was treating her as a honored servant of Jergal, rather than a servant of a lesser member of the house.

[Bobthewizard]

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/role-play/images/b/b1/Drow.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20151205163646
Kita Duskrym (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296303)
Drow Warlock 4
AC: 14 HP: 31/31
Spell Slots: 2 / 2
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: none

Kita is curious to know the purpose of the meeting. Moinara is always scheming. It will probably get her in trouble someday, but Kita isn't concerned about that. I hope this is as fun as last time, when we got to torture those duerger for information.

Walking into the room, Kita is happy to see her allies here as well. Khath, Sgail, and Lhun would never turn on her, nor she on them. In fact, her long-term goal is to win this house for Khath and and then be her Master of Secrets.

While she missed the old days of living in House Duskrym, she is making the most of living here in House Miliskree. Mother Miliskree has been good to her. I think she views Kita as too far removed to be a direct threat, and Kita is good at earning friendship, respect and sympathy. So far she seems to get along well with the sisters, too.

When she walks in the Hanging Garden, she first makes her formal introductions to Moinara, since she clearly outranks everyone else in the room. While they are not yet great friends, Kita knows her place around Moinara and has helped her with some of her scheming so far.

"Good evening, dear sister. It is a pleasure to see you again so soon after the execution. It was a lovely execution, though, wasn't it. How can we help you tonight dear sister."

After those formal introductions, she finds Khath and sits down next to her. On her way, she nods with respect at Sgail and looks with brief longing at Lhun and her new master Quarfein. Her tone around her old friend is much less formal. "Hey, Khath. Any idea what she has planned for us this time?"

[Awful]

The points of Ahlysaaria's spider-legs tapped softly against the stone of the courtyard. Here, she could almost pretend she was restored to her rightful place, as long as she did not look below the waist.

The smile that bloomed upon her lips was no lie when she saw her youngest sister. Moinara had taken much after herself physically - neither had been particularly tall as drow women went, though Ahlysaaria's alterations had changed that for her.
"Moinara! I have missed you sorely, these last years. It truly has been too long..."
Towards the end of the sentence, her tone began to change from elated to wistful before she turned to look at the others.
"Brother," she said, falsely sweet. "Pleased to see me?"
At the dragonborn's words, she smiled - or perhaps she showed her teeth. Her grip tightened round the handle of her glaive until it creaked.
"Worse? Perhaps, dragonborn, for I live as a mockery of what I once was, disgraced in the eyes of the goddess. But favour may be won back, and vengeance had. So it perhaps it will not end as worse for me, in the end."

[Zero Prime]

https://i.postimg.cc/GtzLVtxt/maxresdefault.jpg
Khathrae'va, adopted daughter of House Miliskree, Drow Assassin (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296431)
AC: 14 | HP: 23 / 23 | Inspiration: 0
Passive Insight: 13 (+3) | Passive Perception: 17 (+7)
Active Effects: None.
Conditions: None.

As Moinara summoned her forward, Khathrae'va nodded, her fingers moved deftly through a series of arcane forms, a simple vocalization, and three orbs of indigo sprung into life above her. The lights illuminated her lithe form, pushing back the ever present darkness of Menzoberranzan, making it much more difficult for the drow to conceal herself from those present. It was a sign of submission, and one, she hoped, appeased the third-born Moinara. "I would be remiss if I caused Matron Mother's third born such displeasure. I hear your name is whispered in the hallowed Halls of Arach-Tinilith, by rivals and supporters alike." A slight bow, "It is my hope that your rival's whispers fall silent; your supporters raise to sing your praise, and return three-fold the favor of the Dark Mother upon our fair house." She took her place beside her adopted sister, allowing her shoulder to brush Kita's, reinforcing her position to the younger woman, so her sister knew Khathrae'va, had, as always, her back.

When Moinara's attention turned toward the others, she listened to Kita's soft whisper, before she could respond, she heard the click, click, click, of their late arrival, the twisted form of Ahlysaaria. A grimace crossed her face, turning towards her adopted sister, she responded in a low voice, "I do not know, dear sister, but to invite such unwelcome guests," a harsh glare towards the cursed half drow, half spider monstrosity, "through Miliskree's thresholds, invites disaster upon our House, and the Queen of Spider's displeasure."

[Tycho42]

Quarfein scoffs, though lightly, at the drider’s comment. “Yes...my apologies for not having seen you sooner. The stench of the victims brought to you and the caverns you haunt are too...rustic for my taste, sister.” He laces as much scorn into the commentary about their sibling status as he can while still being just on the right side of at least somewhat civil.

[Awful]

Hmmph. He had gotten bolder, with her exile, it seems. She angled her head a little and took a few steps closer.
"My, things certainly have changed in my exile," she said, adopting a tone of amused surprise that didn't reach her eyes. "I wasn't aware you had taste at all, little brother. I'm happy to see you've learned something in the time I've been away."

[Bobthewizard]

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/role-play/images/b/b1/Drow.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20151205163646
Kita Duskrym (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296303)
Drow Warlock 4
AC: 14 HP: 31/31
Spell Slots: 2 / 2
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: none

Kita holds onto Khath's hand like the sisters and old friends they are, speaking telepathically to her sister.

"Be careful antagonizing the drider. She was once the eldest daughter, and curses can be broken. We do not yet know which way the winds of fate blow in this House. Until we do, we should be friendly with all of the powers here. Ahlysaaria could prove to be a powerful ally."

[purepolarpanzer]

House Miliskree- The Hanging Gardens

Moinara watches the verbal sparring between her siblings with naked amusement, and when Kita questions her she turns and says "More information will be revealed in a few moments, sister. Patience." Ahlysaaria and Quarfein's words are silenced by another voice cutting in from the darkness. "Two of my children? Fighting? No, it can't be! In the name of harmony, maybe you two should step away from each other and listen to what your younger sister has to say." There is a soft impact as another figure drops down from one of the suspended walkways, not too far from where Khath leaped from. Nulcarlav, the House Patron, took a deep pull from a bottle of wine before moving up beside Moinara and taking a seat on the stone bench. "These are the ones you've decided on, Moinara?" The young priestess nods and smiles wider. Carlav, as he's known in less formal circles, sighs and draws out a portfolio bearing the House seal, then opens that and draws out a letter sealed with wax.

Moinara speaks first. "You've all been selected for a special duty within the House. Matron Mother has need of a loyal, dedicated, and most of all SECRET group to handle some... sensitive problems that have arisen as of late." She snatches the letter from her father's hands, who frowns and takes another deep drink from his bottle. "You'll be sanctioned by the Matron and her Patron within the House with certain leeway and allowances that would not normally be afforded to you all, including a regular stipend, limited access to the Master Poisoner's stock, and limited access to the resources of the Weaponmaster and the House Wizard. You'll be under my direct command, with Quarfein acting as the voice of the House in the field. Success will be rewarded greatly. Failure will be judged harshly. Am I understood?" She opens the letter and passes it to Quarfein first, waving her signet ring over the wax House seal, which causes it to open seamlessly. "This letter is your ace in the hole. It affords you authority and station as agents of the House. That being said, it should only be revealed if it is imperative to your success. Use it as a last resort." When Quarfein opens the envelope and inspects the page inside, it reveals a blank page on the Matron Mother's personal stationary- a stylized design written in magical ink that is nearly impossible to replicate. "Your blood will reveal the contents, dear brother. If you do your job correctly, you'll never need to know what it truly says." She turns to the rest of the assembled group. "Any questions, or are you all ready for your first mission?"

[Inmate XIII]

"Several, Mistress, but I'm better off not knowing the answers. By all means, proceed," Sgail grunts. He slips around towards the back of the group, hanging slightly behind Khath and Kita.

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

Lhun bows again, just as deeply as before, at the patron's appearance. She turns to look at the letter in Quarfein's hands when he examines it, mostly only because she's already standing right next to him and to make sure she can identify it as the correct one later in case anything duplicitous occurs later.

[Bobthewizard]

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/role-play/images/b/b1/Drow.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20151205163646
Kita Duskrym (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296303)
Drow Warlock 4
AC: 14 HP: 31/31
Spell Slots: 2 / 2
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: none

Kita agrees to hear more. Being agents of the House will definitely have its perks. Trusting Moinara might not. But she shows only the agreement that Moinara wants to see.

"Please tell us more if you wish dear sister. How can we be of service?"

She is not yet certain of Ahlysaaria's motives so does not speak to her yet. But she speaks telepathically to the others, first to Khath, then Lhun, Sgain and finally Quarfein. They are the only ones that have heard her speak into their minds before.

"Do you think we accept this offer from Moinara and the Patron? I think we cannot trust them and they are possibly setting us up for something. But that we should not object here. We should accept their offer now and discuss it in private later."

They all know that Kita's telepathy is only one way, and she cannot hear thoughts in reply. She tries to ask yes or no questions so only a subtle nod or shake of the head will be required for communication.





Awful, I'll make sure Kita trusts you soon enough. Unless I'm missing something, I just don't think they've met before. We need to come up with some sort of introduction.

[Awful]

Ahlysaaria regarded the latest arrival for a second before she smiled and took a few sidesteps away, her arachnid legs clacking softly.
"Of course, Father. It would a shame to have to hurt him after so long apart."
She turned her gaze to Moinara. In truth, it was obvious thst she would have to accept: her alternative was returning to exile and a miserable, hopeless existence.
"I don't have any questions yet. Please, do continue."

[Tycho42]

Quarfein is taken aback by someone speaking so to him, before realizing that it is their father. He nods, spreading his hands in a gesture of conciliation, at least for the moment.

He peruses the document, which does not take long considering the relative absence of print. He made sure that the undead servant could see as well, knowing she was angling for such anyway. Her insights might prove valuable later as he undoubtedly tried to prise the information from the document secretly.

“No questions, my father and sister. If it is mother’s will it must be done.” He pauses to look around, for pointed effect. “Though, should I be honoured or concerned that I am the only member of the family headed off with others more...expendable?”

[Inmate XIII]

Sgail snickers. "Mistress, does your brother seriously think he's not expendable?"

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

At Sgail's words Lhun turns a bit to look at him. And continues looking at him. Unblinkingly. Until he can feel the pressure of being focused on with inhuman intensity. There is, of course, no facial expression to provide the comfort of clearer context.

[purepolarpanzer]

House Miliskree- The Hanging Gardens

Carlav, sprawling out on the stone bench, shoots his son an acidic glare while Moinara hides a laugh behind her hand. "None of my children are expendable, Quarfein. Including your oldest sister. This team is her opportunity to redeem herself in the eyes of your Mother as well as the Spider Queen. If I'd had my way SHE would be leading up this expedition and you would be following HER orders." At this point Moinara steps forward between father and son and breaks line of sight. "In Mother's eyes, none of you are expendable... for now. Your true purpose goes far beyond what you will know today, tomorrow, or possibly ever. More will be revealed in time. Baby steps, as it were. We start with this..." She draws a large, uncut piece of jade from her sleeve, holding it up for all to see.

"Some of you may be aware of a new mine that has been discovered by the House in the upper Underdark. If you are, you hear too much for your own good and should pretend to be surprised." Moinara hands the gemstone to Quarfein, and immediately upon touching his skin it begins to glow from within with vibrant energy. Quarfein can feel the magical energy tingling in his palm, flowing into him like an intense heat. "This mine is the strongest source of Faerzress that our house has ever stumbled across. Quarfein can brief you all on how important THAT is. All you need to know is a Duergar stone speaker was hired by the house to survey the mine and find out what value it had. Unfortunately he failed to report into his last meeting with our agents. Our spy network went to work and determined that outside mercenaries have been spotted near the mine, and our sentries have been... dispatched."

Moinara gives an exasperated hiss and reaches out to shove her father's shoulder. His soft snores abruptly end with a snort, and he sits up, spilling a bit from his bottle. "I was listening! I was listening!" Carlav reaches into a messenger bag at his side and begins pulling out items. He draws a cloak from the bag, a mottled, soft grey that seems to shift and change depending on the angle you look at it from. Then he draws out a thin wand made of stone with sizable scorch stains on the last several inches of the tip. Lastly, he draws a slightly ragged looking spider silk rope from the bag, frayed in places. Carlav gives the rope a squeeze and a kiss before setting all three items on the stone rim surrounding the pond. "These are items from my personal stash. The cloack is a piwafwi, It makes you nearly invisible, but don't get caught out in the sun with it or it will catch fire. The wand shoots magic missiles. Don't use it too much or it might explode. The rope's name is Deidra, and she's got me out of more scrapes than I can count. All of these prizes are going to be LOANED to you. As in I expect them back eventually."

Moinara picks it up from there. "Your mission is threefold. First, you must extract the stone speaker back to the House. If that becomes impossible, you need to find his final report and retrieve that. Second, you must find out who sent the mercenaries to the mine. It's location is supposed to be secret, and if another House has found it there very well may be a war as result." Carlav grunts and says "Atleast we know it wasn't a greater House. They are all busy trying to find the..." Moinara gives another annoyed hiss and interrupts her father loudly. "THIRDLY you must punish the enemies of our House who killed our guards. They were just slaves, but they were our slaves, and we have few enough remaining that every one is an insult AND an injury. Find a way to make an example of one or more of the sell-sword scum. Hopefully a leader of some sort. Get creative. Just don't kill all the witnesses. A message cast into a bottomless pit is no message at all." Moinara's eyes narrow in a well contained violent rage, and only someone who had known her for years would be able to see the bloodlust in her eyes. "You are all to leave immediately. The mine is several cycles of Narbondel away, so you'll have to rest on the way." She draws one final document out of the portfolio, handing over a map to whoever will take it. "The mine is in a remote and isolated section of the Underdark, so getting there will be a challenge in itself. Any questions before you head out, dear brother and sisters? Or honored servants? I want you all as well equipped as possible. Your success will bring honor to yourselves, the House... and to me."

[Zero Prime]

https://i.postimg.cc/GtzLVtxt/maxresdefault.jpg
Khathrae'va, adopted daughter of House Miliskree, Drow Assassin (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296431)
AC: 14 | HP: 23 / 23 | Inspiration: 0
Passive Insight: 13 (+3) | Passive Perception: 17 (+7)
Active Effects: None.
Conditions: None.

As Mistress Moinara produced the Faerzress from a satchel located behind her, Khathrae'va squeezed Kita's hand, before releasing her grip. She had discovered, through her connections at the Eastmyr bath houses, that Miliskree had turned it's attention to the Upperdark. She had mentioned such to Kita, and wished to reinforce Moinara's warning with the subtle non-verbal gesture.

As she listened further, the information lined up with the vague rumors Kathrae'va had, herself, discovered, an outside contractor hired through discrete channels. A movement of agents to the Upperdark, and subsequent failure to report in. It troubled Moinara, which meant it was an opportunity for Khathrae'va and her sworn-sister, Kita. A three-fold goal, find the druegar agent, locate the mercenaries, and determine their employers, then lastly, send a message to their adversaries that House Milliskree is no easy prey.

Khathrae'va stepped forward, "Mistress, two questions. Firstly, and perhaps of most import, what is agent's name and description, I would hate to creep through our adversaries defenses, only to discover that the useless dwarf I had rescued was of no importance to ourselves or our objective." A wicked smile crept across her face, "Secondly, would you prefer a pillow upon which you may rest your feet, or a quilt with which to warm yourself, for we can flay your enemies to provide either." And as quickly as her smile appeared, it faded to stoic blankness, and those that knew her best, understood that Khathrae'va fully intended to provide the Matron's daughter with such a grisly token.

[Bobthewizard]

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/role-play/images/b/b1/Drow.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20151205163646
Kita Duskrym (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296303)
Drow Warlock 4
AC: 14 HP: 31/31
Spell Slots: 2 / 2
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: none

Kita does not want to go on this mission. It will take her away from the intrigue of the court and society. Sending us out into the middle of nowhere, Moinara might just be trying to get rid of us. No loss to her if none of us make it out alive. Even if we survive, who knows what machinations will occur in our absence.

But she keeps these thoughts to herself, not broadcasting them to her friends with her mind or to her sister with her expressions. Instead she smiles at Khath's offer and speaks into her sister's mind "Nice offer. Moinara will love it and will be fun to make."

She does not say much out loud, but replies Moinara with sincerity.

"Thank you for placing your trust in us dear sister. We will do everything we can to make you proud."

She does not move to take any of the items offered by Carlav, leaving those items to others.

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

Lhun asks, "Is there someone we should speak to for more recent information when we reach the mine?"

[Tycho42]

Quarfein takes the briefing in stride, noting in particular the objects and trying not to eye too strongly the wand of missiles.

“It seems straightforward enough. Are there any patrols who have recently passed by the area of the mine that can give us a more recent picture?”

If not, he intends to travel directly to the House Wizard, a station above his right now, and see what scrolls and spells he might be able to wrest from the man. After all, had he not now, however briefly, the keys to that particular treasure chest?

[Inmate XIII]

Sgail approaches the pair of drow, but instead of going for one of the items he holds his hand out towards Carlav and is rewarded with the patron's bottle. He takes a quick swig before handing it back with a respectful bow of his head, as if they had done this quite a few times before. "One question mistress: you said that we are to leave witnesses, so I assume that we are not going incognito? Just how much noise are we permitted to make? Or rather, just how much noise does the Matron want us to make?"

He takes the map from her hand and considers it briefly. He grimaces, as if swallowing something difficult then steps over to Ahlysaaria with a grim expression on his face and offers it to her. "Drider, you've too much to gain to lead us into a trap and have likely spent more time out of the city than any of us. I'm assuming you know probably know passages and routes these drow don't?"

[purepolarpanzer]

House Miliskree- The Hanging Gardens

Moinara lets out a giggle at Khath's offer. "A pillow would do nicely. I like the idea of resting my feet on the skin of whoever is responsible." Becoming more serious, she attends to the other questions. "As far as more information, that will unfortunately be lacking. The "mine" isn't even a true mine yet, just a series of caverns steeped in the lingering magic. We wished to keep the location secret, so we only moved a few guards there to protect the stone speaker from wandering monsters, and they are dead or missing. We also have only sent minor patrols in that direction in an effort to keep it under wraps. They are the ones who discovered the guards missing, and they were ordered not to enter the caverns for risk of walking into an ambush. That would be all of your jobs, if there is an ambush to be found, and I trust you all not to walk into it face first and get yourselves killed. The stone speaker I can provide a bit more information on. He is a tattooed dwarf with a dent in his skull. Apparently he communed a little too deeply with a falling rock at some point." She giggles again. "But he came with excellent references, and his ability to find natural resources is remarkable." She turns to Sgail last. "Unless our spies are terribly mistaken, the enemy are unaffiliated mercenaries. That means they have no protection from a House, and no mercenary group has the resources to strike back against our House. Be as loud as you want, as long as you don't bring a hooked horror down on your heads. Subtlety may be needed to get into the caverns, but after that..." She shrugs. "Maybe you should display what all that coin your former House paid was worth."

[Zero Prime]

https://i.postimg.cc/GtzLVtxt/maxresdefault.jpg
Khathrae'va, adopted daughter of House Miliskree, Drow Assassin (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296431)
AC: 14 | HP: 23 / 23 | Inspiration: 0
Passive Insight: 13 (+3) | Passive Perception: 17 (+7)
Active Effects: None.
Conditions: None.

Khathrae.va was not used to playing the demure servant girl, she was a first-born daughter, used to a position of command. Noting the reluctance of her companions to seize the opportunity, perhaps a fear of revealing one's ambitions, she strode forward. Nodding her recognition to the current Patron of Miliskree, "With respect," a smile, "these will serve well." She took the piwafwi and with significant flair, wrapped it around her slim shoulders, before beginning to coil Deirdre into a tight loop, and latch it to her hip. Finally, she took the calcified wand, moved forward and presented it to Quarfein, "For those more well acquainted in the arcane arts than I shall ever be." A slight nod, a step forward, and a smile, her fingers lingering over his own, breaking contact a breath before such would be considered intimate.

"I am assuming that, should we determine from whose treasury the mercenaries are paid, we are not to engage with delegates of that House," a pause, as if she was asking for permission to spill the blood of their rivals, "or does our Matron Mother wish to send a message of strength?"

[Awful]

"If there is some, I would like better armour. A breastplate, or half-plate, perhaps."
Ahlysaaria looked down at her spider half, and her tone a mixture of irony and bitterness, she spoke again
"After all, it is not like I have much use for the greaves of full plate, for the time being."
She rested the hilt of her wickedly sharp glaive on the ground.
"Aside from that, some poisons for my glaive, maybe, but I hardly need much else."

As Sgail approached her and offers the map, she scrutinised it with a dull red eye.
"Perhaps. There are a few passages, here and here - this one you'll find it hard to reach without climbing. It's been a while since I've been done that way, though. Prey I could take was surprisingly scarce.

It depends if the surveyors were careful enough to seal this little passages when they found them. "

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

When she is given leave to do so, Lhun makes a list of spells scrolls to bring to the wizard's tower to request if they have any of them and the inks she would need to add them to her spellbook.


Listed in order of priority.

Comprehend Languages (R)
Gentle Repose (R)
Tenser's Floating Disk (R)
Unseen Servant (R)
Blur
Invisibility
Silence (R)
Protection from Evil and Good
Scorching Ray
Mirror Image
Moonbeam
Dragon's Breath
Spider Climb (lowest priority as she's hoping they'll all just get spider mounts eventually)

[Inmate XIII]

Scrawled in the lettering of someone with neat handwriting but unused to writing in elven script:


I, Whedabra Sgail, given that I am protecting not only a blood child of our Matron, but two of her adopted daughters, and one formerly of her blood but now fallen, humbly request a suit of the finest platemail, decored with the seal of the House, as I cannot properly shield them from harm if I have been disabled due to inadequate armor.

Given that the likelihood of my request being fulfilled is near zero, I would request in lieu of this a tabard bearing the seal of the House of sufficient size to fit over my chainmail, so that I can at least wear the colors of the House in the field.

More common items I will require and expect to be fulfilled per the Second Daughter's wishes are as follows:

A climbing kit
Twenty (20) iron spikes, of climbing quality
A skinning knife
50 ft. of silk rope
The full contents of an explorer's pack
An empty flask
A flask of liquor
A potion of healing, two if budget allows

I possess my own painting materials and will not require those.

[Tycho42]

Quarfein makes himself a blustery nuisance, from an outside point of view, in the House Wizard’s offices, calling for scrolls and inks to add some supplementary spells to his repertoire.


1) Comprehend Languages (good call)
2) Arcanists Magic Aura
3) Arcane Lock

[Zero Prime]

https://i.postimg.cc/GtzLVtxt/maxresdefault.jpg
Khathrae'va, adopted daughter of House Miliskree, Drow Assassin (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296431)
AC: 14 | HP: 23 / 23 | Inspiration: 0
Passive Insight: 13 (+3) | Passive Perception: 17 (+7)
Active Effects: None.
Conditions: None.

Kathrae'va excused herself from the meeting, eager to acquire provisions and be on their way. The fact that the entire expedition could be a set-up, a double cross, however, she wouldn't know until she let the situation play out, and determine the probable victor, and make herself useful to them. As such she wished to be prepared, both for the assigned task, and for the unexpected which, most certainly, would occur.

"So, what is your take, dear Sister. Is Third-born Moinara seeking to elevate her status by sending ourselves on this expedition, while planting seeds of doubt in Matron Mother's thoughts during our absence? If she is truly seeking to elevate Ahlyssara's position, she would be undermining her own status, as Ahlyssara was First born before she earned the displeasure of the Spider Queen." As they were walking towards the central keep, whereupon Khathrae'va intended to acquire her goods from the quartermaster, she paused. "Or," she exclaimed quietly, "is Moinara being forced by her Mother to perform this task that could see Ahlyssara returned? Thereby forcing her hand, such that she needs to extend it in peace to the one who will further remove her from her mother's grace? Ohhh, that is exquisite!"

OOC: Shopping List! Climber's Kit (25 gp), Healer's Kit (5 gp), Manacles x3 (6 gp), 50' Rope, silk (10 gp), Caltrops x2 (2 gp), Waterskin x1 (2 sp), Oil, flask x4 (4 sp), Tindertwigs (10 gp), Sunrod x4 (8gp), for a total of 66gp, 6sp. This is in addition to our rations & such, but I would prefer that we each have enough for five days, minimum.

[Bobthewizard]

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/role-play/images/b/b1/Drow.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20151205163646
Kita Duskrym (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296303)
Drow Warlock 4
AC: 14 HP: 31/31
Spell Slots: 2 / 2
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: none

Kita follows Khath out and responds telepathically so she can say things that she wouldn't even say in private.

"Of course we can't trust Moinara. She's obviously scheming to try to get rid of the first born daughter and the two stepsisters who have gained her mother's affection. You know that Mother trusts us to run the family more than she trusts her own dullard daughters."

She laughs, looks over both her shoulders to make sure they are alone, and briefly appears as Moinara, doing a sarcastic, but otherwise perfect imitation of the second sister.

"I can't do anything myself and need this team to do everything for me."

She quickly turns back into herself, knowing that is a dangerous form of entertainment.

"Perhaps that trick might come in handy later on."





Shopping: just rations and healing potions.

[purepolarpanzer]

House Miliskree- The Hanging Gardens

Moinara's features grow more severe as she answer's Khath's question. "If you find agents of another House... DIRECT agents... do not engage them. We are not in a position to start a fight we cannot finish, and destroying their catspaws should be enough of a message to inform them that we are not to be trifled with. Simply find out which House they are working with and report back alive. If a strike is warranted, it will be better orchestrated than you all are capable of. When you are all done with your preparations, I suggest you meet at the House gate and set out immediately." With that backhand, she dismisses you all to set about your business before you embark.

Carlav walks out beside his eldest daughter, taking pulls from his bottle as his two feet march in step with her eight. "It is good to see you, daughter. Better than you know. I grieved for your loss and I rejoice at your return. You were always my favorite." He reaches out a hand to stop Ahlysaaria's steps and moves in front of her suddenly, looking up at her with a smile on his face. "As you will rise in the Spider Queen's eyes, so too will my position be secured by your efforts. I've rolled the dice to get you back in the House, Ahly, and I'll be damned if those dice come up snake eyes. Be alert, be strong, and know that I have the utmost faith in you." He gives her a small bow. "You'll always be First Daughter in my eyes." Then he turns and walks slowly away, enough for more words to be exchanged if the drider so desires.

House Miliskree- The Wizard's Tower

The House Wizard, an aging drow male named Wedix Frevel, does not entertain Lhun and Quarfein's request. Instead one of his underlings, seated behind a desk on the first floor of the tower, asks them politely to wait while he gophers the request to his master. After just enough time to be insulting and not a minute more the underling arrives with a bundle of scrolls for the team's magic users. "Master Wizard Frevel sends his regards and appreciation that you seek to continue your studies, sir. He would see to them personally but he is involved in a delicate ritual right now that is of the utmost importance to the House. He wished for you to have these scrolls, for you and your undead servant, that you may begin to serve the House's interests. End quote." The underling swallows, realizing late that there was a backhanded compliment nestled in the message, too scared to claim the words are his own but too terrified not to repeat them verbatim. He turns to Lhun and says "Master Wizard Frevel would like to offer an open invitation to you, undead, if you ever wish to be examined directly by him in his sanctum. No appointment needed." This is not the first time the House Wizard has offered to "examine" Lhun, as he seems to have a fascination with her construction. It also serves as another insult to Quarfein, as he is not being asked for the right to examine his own servant, and he has never been allowed further than the second level of the tower in all his years of instruction.

There are two scrolls of Comprehend Languages, one of Gentle Repose, one of Tenser's Floating Disc, and one of Arcanist's Magic Aura. You also get enough special ink to copy each of those scrolls into a spellbook.

House Miliskree- The Quartermaster's Office

Mistress Cessiken reads over Sgail's written request with a furrowed brow, occasionally looking up at him with pursed lips. "I've told you, dragon man, you'll have to wait on your tabbard. The House's seamstresses are on back order with new uniforms for the House guard, and that is by the Matron's wishes herself. I will notify you when they are done and can begin working on superfluous tasks like appeasing your vanity. As far as armor, we'll have to have you in for a fitting, and then your order will be processed eventually. I'll make no promise, as plate is expensive, and you've not proven to me OR the Matron Mother that you would be worth the investment!" She looks past Sgail at Khath and Kita, her frown growing in magnitude. Without further words, she sends slaves off to retrieve the supplies listed by the team, each and every item accompanied by a receipt that must be signed for the House's accountant. With that bureaucracy accomplished, everything is bundled, bagged, and presented to the person who requested it by a slave.

Everyone gets everything from their list, including 2 healing potions apiece for Sgail and Kita. In addition, Khath and Ahlysaaria are given 2 doses of Drow Poison apiece. Use them wisely.

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

Lhun bows to the underling as he (like practically everyone else in the house) ranks above her and then takes the scrolls and inks meant for her. She doesn't even respond to the relayed offer given she has no particular reason to take it. She hasn't been told to do so for service of the house or her god and it's a clear insult to her master to offer it to her directly instead of asking for his permission to do so. The best she can do is feign as if the insult had not occurred in the first place. And of course the house wizard continued to neglect the most obvious aspect of failing to provide any motivation for her to do so personally as well. Making it apparent why he was house wizard and not a consort.

[Inmate XIII]

"Vanity? You call wishing to properly represent whom I serve vanity? I would assume the Matron would prefer to flaunt her status, not allow her prizes to wander about ununiformed. If the simple act of taking a few minutes to alter one of the hundreds of existing tabards the House possesses is so beyond the skill of your tailors that a whole new one must be woven, than I should wonder whether any of the clothing you've given me will fall apart at any moment!

But have it your way, I will wait, and onlookers will continue to wonder what House I serve."

Not waiting for Cessiken's retort, Sgail scoops up his bag, as well as Khath's and Kita's, slings them over his shoulder, and departs.

[Awful]

Ahlysaaria gave a small bow back. She smiled at the male drow's words.
"Thank you, Father. That means... a lot to me, in truth. I am... not what I was once was, in mind or body. But I'll get it all back, I swear on Lloth. If those dice won't roll high - I'll make them.

These others - there are few I recognise. Is there anything I need to know about them? "
She did not, of course, ask if they were trustworthy. She'd learned that lesson well enough...

[Zero Prime]

https://i.postimg.cc/GtzLVtxt/maxresdefault.jpg
Khathrae'va, adopted daughter of House Miliskree, Drow Assassin (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296431)
AC: 14 | HP: 23 / 23 | Inspiration: 0
Passive Insight: 13 (+3) | Passive Perception: 17 (+7)
Active Effects: None.
Conditions: None.

Khathrae'va watched Sgail's broad back departing, and turned towards Cessiken, "Oh, Cessiken, you can't help but thumbing your nose at the help." She chuckled as if she found the behaviour amusing, "It's somewhat endearing," her face became stoney, uncaring, "when Illystryth's assassins came for me, that man," she pointed towards the dragonborn warrior, "slew them, three in total, allowing me to gain access to Miliskree's rival's chambers." She was hissing now, "HE bled for this House, before even stepping beneath it's arches. YOU. COUNT. COINS."

She looked at the Quarter Mistresses' apprentices, working behind her. "Ilphaste, Luaavin, Ilhazara, Sablure, Vhondryl. I know all their names, their ambitions, and can name a dozen more. You will never know to whom I've given the blade." She paused, emphasising her point, "I expect his tabbard delivered within the hour, even if you have to sew it with your own shrewish hands."

[Bobthewizard]

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/role-play/images/b/b1/Drow.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20151205163646
Kita Duskrym (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296303)
Drow Warlock 4
AC: 14 HP: 31/31
Spell Slots: 2 / 2
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: none

Kita tries to calm Khath down, and keep the quartemaster from being too afraid and reporting us.

"I'm sorry, Cessiken. My sister is under some stress right now. Please forgive her outburst. We of course always appreciate your help."

She gently glides Khath away, keeping her from reaching over and strangling the quartermaster, and speaks telepathically to Khath, "That was just for show. Of course we are going to kill her later. But you know better than to let a target see the blade before you slip it between her ribs. The quartermaster could be a useful ally for now."

She turns back and looks over her shoulder as the trio leaves, "I'd suggest getting the tabard ready though," she says with a smile, since both she and the quartermaster know that Kita could never hold back Khath if she really wanted to kill someone.

Finally, she thanks Sgail as they leave, "Thank you for carrying our new equipment. I'll take my supplies off your hands whenever you want."





I hope that was ok Zero Prime.

[Tycho42]

As they begin to leave, Quarfein in a barely concealed simmer over the insults, speaks to his undead companion.

“Lest you have any thoughts entertaining his propositions, I suggest you regard two things. First, the...autonomy you enjoy is a product of the House’s indulgence in my practices. He would simply dismantle you to figure out how you function.

Second...the wizard is old and age is marked either by wisdom or luck in our world. Neither lasts forever and his time will draw to a close. There is only one logical choice to succeed him. It would be prudent to remember those facts.”

In his heart, Quarfein knows that what he spoke is almost instinctively known by every creature in their society, but it made him feel better to say it out loud and gave vent to his spite. “We have work to do if we are to be ready to leave with our newly acquired spells.”

[Ramsus]

https://64.media.tumblr.com/77ee1199a041f7a6c3b0cbd564202c5e/082b54cd75c1bd9c-d2/s540x810/cddb1916e015d980767e9b88bf09e5815632b992.jpg
Lhun Qwir (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296681)
Lanternsoul Rose White Mage
AC: 12/15 HP: 26/26
PP: 17 PIv: 11 PIs: 17
Auto: Guidance on Self
Conditions: Mage Armor
Concentration: --

"Of course master. As far as I am concerned, the offer was not presented to you so no such offer was made." she replies.

To the later part she replies with nod and a short, "As you say master."

[purepolarpanzer]

House Miliskree- The Hanging Gardens

Carlav chuckles and draws a dagger, idly balancing it on a single fingertip before tossing it into the air and catching it on his fingertip again. "The dragonborn Sgail, the warlock Kita, and the assassin Khathrae'va are survivors of a fallen house. Poor little orphans adopted by your mother out of mercy." He lingers on the word "mercy", indicating it is anything but. "All three of them are capable, but they are far too presumptuous of their position within the house. You can trust them to do their jobs, but their aims are high. Win them over if you can. They may be instrumental to your ascension. The undead is Lhun Qwir, is a prized pet of your mother gifted to her only son as a servant. She's powerful enough to serve our needs, but lacks the ambition to be a threat. Your brother..." He chuckles again, tossing the knife and catching it again. "He has all the worst qualities of his parents, and an arcane talent to boot. He's male, so he can never rule, but that doesn't stymie his ambition. He's my second favorite child, when he's on his game at least. When he's not, I consider culling him myself. We'll see how he handles the coming of a brother." Carlav walks Ahlysaaria back into the House, opening the garden gate for her. "I have other... duties... this evening. You understand. But you should go meet with the others at the Main Gate. I'll see that your room is made ready for your return, Ahly. May the Spider Queen favor you all for this mission." With that said, the House Patron gives his daughter a salute and strides away, still chuckling and still making his knife dance on his fingertips.


House Miliskree- The Quartermistress's Office

Cessikein glares at Khath, keeping her eyes cold and level through Khath's words, not even blinking. She is silent for several moments after. Lethal seconds pass by before she closes her eyes, tips her head downwards in submission, and speaks without the slightest hint of emotion. "Of course, Adopted Daughter of the House. All you need do is ask. I'll have the tabbard altered and sent to the front gate immediately. I will see to it personally." She adjusts her House uniform, gives a small bow, and retreats to the back rooms of the office.

[purepolarpanzer]

House Miliskree- The Front Gate

The front gate of the House is a formidable structure, elegant in it's design and imposing to any who approach. The wall surrounding the house is fifteen feet tall, but the gate reaches higher than twenty feet tall, a spiderweb of wrought iron reinforced mushwood. It is well known that the Matron Mother constantly wishes to replace the gate with something more indomitable, and constantly must shift the coin to other projects. Still, anyone viewing the gate with magic can see that it is reinforced with more than metal- magical wards strengthen the wood and trap the entrance. As you all approach, the barking orders of Thraiggan and the crack of his famous whip can be heard, and a flock of slaves move to the handles that are used to open the gate, preparing to make an exit for you all. Thraiggan appears, reaching up to scratch at his scarred features with his free hand, approaching all of you and inclining in a deep bow. Speaking in broken Elvish, he addresses Quarfein. "You need go, Honored Son? Go into Underdark on House job? Thraiggan open gate at your command." He looks nervously at Ahlysaaria, then shoots a tusky smile at Sgail. The slave Master of Slaves was always asking the dragonborn for opportunities to spar, and had shown nothing but respect for the warrior since their meeting in the conflict.

"Wait!" A swiftly moving figure dashes forward from a side entrance to the House, bearing a parchment wrapped package. The young drow seamstress nearly trips when making her way across the courtyard, but skids to a halt in front of Sgail, panting slightly. "For... for you, honored warrior." She extends the package, breathing hard, and draws away the twine wrapping it to reveal a pristine tabbard in the Miliskree colors with exquisite threaded gold and silver woven into it's construction. This appears to be on of the House Guard tabbards, altered and fitted to Sgail's measurements.

[Inmate XIII]

Sgail responds to Thraiggan witha cocky smirk and a clap on the orc's shoulder, but is started by the arrival of the seamstress.

His breath caught in his throat, he allows her to place the package in his hands before bowing to her deeply. "I-I had not expected to actually get this! T-thank you..." he stammers, a thick Draconic accent slipping into his Elfish. He removes it from the packaging and slips it on, cinching it tightly at the waist before addressing her again. "I know it may not seem like much to you, but this means more to me than I can properly express in your language. Please, your name, I would seek to put in a good word with the Honored Daughter next I have the privilege of addressing her." He bows again, this time just his head.

[Bobthewizard]

https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/role-play/images/b/b1/Drow.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20151205163646
Kita Duskrym (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296303)
Drow Warlock 4
AC: 14 HP: 31/31
Spell Slots: 2 / 2
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12
Conditions: none

Kita watches Sgail put on the tabard. It does look good on him. She then smiles at the young drow,

"Please give Cessiken our thanks. It must have been additional stress and work to get this done so quickly. Let her know that we appreciate her help and won't forget this service."

She helps Sgail get the tabard on straight. "That looks great on you! Is everyone ready to get started."

She lets Quarfein deal with the slave guard captain.

[Zero Prime]

https://i.postimg.cc/GtzLVtxt/maxresdefault.jpg
Khathrae'va, adopted daughter of House Miliskree, Drow Assassin (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2296431)
AC: 16 | HP: 23 / 23 | Inspiration: 0
Passive Insight: 13 (+3) | Passive Perception: 17 (+7)
Active Effects: None.
Conditions: None.

Khathrae'va, wrapped in the Miliskree Patron's piwafwi cloak, strode up to Sgail, "It suits you, as I knew it would. Cessiken will be punished for her treatment of an honored servant." A vicious smile, "I'll see to it, personally." Thoughts of retribution in her head, she skipped past Kita flashing her sister a smile. Then, turning back to survey the procession from the House's main gate. "We travel to the upper dark, we should be cautious." She paused, studying Ahlysaaria's twisted form, "I believe you may be more familiar with the wild's beyond Menzoberranzan, perhaps we should scout ahead of the main party, to avoid ambush from predators, drow, or otherwise."

[Awful]

Ahlysaaria merely met the slave's look with an unimpressed expression. At least now she was looking down on him literally instead of just figuratively: last time they'd met she'd still been a drow.

Without anything to say, she waited, her legs tapping occasionally, until Khathrae'va spoke to her. The drider regarded her for a second before she shrugged. If Khath intended to get her alone and murder her, the drider expected she'd be able to rend the slender drow apart before she could manage. Ahly had too much anger in her to die easily.
"Very well. Don't expect me to be as quiet as you, however. This... form isn't built for swift but silent movement."