Welcome to Gaia! ::

Nariel gave her a genuine smile and nodded.
"Yes, it quiet satisfactory to us," She said as the slave presented the copy of both documents. Glancing them over, her smile deepened. "I believe we will be great allies and it is my hope that together we can better not only our lives, but the reckless chaos of the city. Transforming it through our efforts into controlled chaos."
With a sigh, she handed the papers to the leader of her personal guard before turning to the envoy Captain then. "Now then, if there is not anything else. I hope that your journey to return to your house is safe."

Nariel nodded and then indicated with a two fingers for the guards by the door to open them. Arms open in a with a warm smile she said, "Then I wish you well and my our alliance grow only stronger." She watched at the envoy was escorted out of the hall and the door closed behind them, before letting out a great sigh.
The leader of her personal guard looked upon his mistress with a warm smile, "Milady, I believe you have done a great thing for our people and I know your mother would be proud of your ability."
Nariel looked back at him and smiled at her long time guard, the one who had protected her since the fall of her and her mothers clan. "Yes, I'm sure she would be, but now comes the hard part."
"My lady, you need the thief still?" He asked eyebrows raised.
"Yes, remember I signed a paper claiming I wouldn't kill the Matron, it most not be my hands if we wish to avoid rebellion from some of her trusted followers. Though she would die from shock if she realized we just made an alliance with the worshipers of Vhaeraun. But it nice to finally see open believers after the having to hide our beliefs from that spider lover. But soon it will be over and we will have to hid no more. Is everything set?" She asked looking at her entertainer and agent.
"Yes, my lady." The woman voice as enchanting as her singing voice. "The illusion spells are hiding what it is need to be hidden. And our people are ready to take back what was once ours. Our humble glory before the one know as the Fa'la zatoast screwed us all. And these people will thank us too for freeing them from the spider lover who oppresses them."
Nariel nodded, "Good then tomorrow we shall be the clan we once were. For Hlairyn!"
"For Hlairyn!" They all echo, from those who were not original part of the clan to the servants in the room to the slaves. Nariel simple breaths in their enthusiasm letting it form her confidence. Soon, by the power of the masked one, will be a true clan again.

Nariel was set in her seers trance. Two paths formed before her.
"Only two" She thought curiously, but kept focus. Down one path there looked to be a dead end, with blood smeared all over it and her head nailed to it with a sword. This image she had seen before, though usually it was someone else head. Her unease grew as she glance down the second road, there she could see a throne. Like the one her mother describe, one of silver, red jewels, and black cloth. Glancing down the path was cover with the body of the current Matron of Orlyunden and others.
"A battle," Her mind told her. "There will be a battle, but since I didn't order one. It must come from our new allies."
A part of her screamed in rage, while the other wept in sorrow. How could she have thought so little of an alliance made so soon or...was it not what it appeared. Trying to staying calm, she gather as much information from her vision as possible. Snapping out of the trance, she called her slave to her. "Coni, fly to find my personal guard tell him to prepare. I'm not sure what our new friend's plan to do, but I don't want to be unprepared should they call." She didn't add to kill us or to ask for aid. "Tell him I will see as much as I can." She said before returning to her trance, Where are you leading us Aleanrae? Who do you fight against?

Tathdorl approached the house silently, and raised a hand to the guard, a soft smirk sliding over his lips.

"The Lady of the house is expecting me. Kindly inform her that I have come bearing a gift; she will find it most interesting, I can guarantee that."

Tathdorl nodded, and saluted the guard before proceeding swiftly and surely. He observed carefully the halls of the the Qu'ellar, making notes of possible escape routes should his plan not proceed as he had anticipated. As he approached the Throne Room, he glamored his mask quickly, to hide its true form. His disguise was now that of a blind man, eyes bound with black silk to hide the disgusting pits. In truth, the mask sat upon his eyes, granting him True Sight to see through the Matron's lies. His cloak too was glamored to appear as nothing more than a slightly ratty piwafwi, but the truth was much more curious: It concealed his body heat and scent, guarding him from both animal attack and magical homing spells. He walked with a loose, careful gait, approaching the throne's steps. He dropped to his knees there, and spoke.

"O great Matron, my master sends a gift for both you and your Great Goddess. He dearly hopes you will accept it with our honor."

He pulled out his supremely well-crafted Spider Dagger, and held it out to her, head bowed low. While the blade was sheathed, in truth his true blade was concealed but ready to strike at a moment's notice, hidden beneath his cloak. For all to see, he looked the part of a low house offering tribute: there was only one among them who knew what this "Begger" truly was...

As she took hold of it, the faintest glimmer of a smirk appeared on his face as Tathdorl dropped his guise, revealing the mask and cloak of snakeskin. He spoke as he moved, flowing like a billow of smoke.

"No, dear Matron, we thank you for your gift: this lovely house, and your blood. Lolth's son sends his regards..."

As she had already taken hold of the dagger, it was a simple thing to draw it from its sheath; her hand was on the scabbard, so Tathdorl let her hold it and pulled the blade up and out, attempting to slice it across the exposed parts of her wrists. At the same time, his left hand flashed into his cloak, inhumanly fast, and returned bearing an oddly-shaped knife: those who knew arcan lore would know it as a dagger of Swift Striking, which gave the quick the strength of a barbarian with the grace of a dancer. This blade shot under his other arm in a lighting fast stab aimed directly at the Matron's heart: the only way out was backwards, which would pin her against her throne and make the kill even easier. It was a beautifully crafted assassin's strike, and even those who sided with the matron would be obliged to acknowledge the perfection with which it was carried out...

Tathdorl gazed down upon the rejoicing House, and he permitted a smile to come to his face. As one of the last Lolthite's with any power had fallen under his blade, he was pleased to see that the new Matron was wasting no time in making good her plot. Tathdorl flicked the blood off his blades, and sheathed them silently. He cast one last look at the house, and set off again: He was needed elsewhere...