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The drowess flinched at his touch, power slithering like a wraith over her skin. The world hurtled past, an all-too-familiar feeling of being lurched into space until at long last, they arrived in the bowels of Qu'ellar Druu'giir. Val'atar was particularly fond of this form of travel. Serethiel recalled nearly vomiting on his shoes after her encounter with the cave witch, Vierdah. Like a fearful child, she shut her eyes, waiting for the worst to pass as he spoke to what remained of his guard.

Only minutes, and he'd already subjected her to her least favourite activity. Serethiel expected the worst for their reunion.

The nausea of teleportation sent her reeling awkwardly towards him. She yelped in surprise as her face met fabric and shrank back apologetically at the answering sneer.

"I am Ilharn Val'atar Druu'giir," He said to his minions, "chosen of Vhaeraun.. lord of this city. Make ready the barracks for inspection and see that all soldiers are at hand.. soon we will be going out to settle a few scores Commander. Serethiel, you will follow me.. if you remember the way."

Her place right now was obedience. Serethiel decided wisely, at present, that words were perhaps not the most intelligent way to reply. Soon enough, he would undoubtedly have questions. They would undoubtedly be unpleasant.

Serethiel watched in horror as the shrunken corpses stirred awake. His to command, even in death. She shuddered, praying she would never meet the same cruel end.

In the chamber, his silence seemed to drag on for an eternity.


Finally, he spoke. "I have been gone for some time kitrye vlos, what have you been doing in my absence? My allies lay dead or gone.. the temple has withered and none stand to fight Lolth along side my Lord. What of my consort or my pets? I have returned to life from the clutch of death itself and I find everything has fallen to ruin.. while you hide in the guise of an old crone.

Why?"

She inhaled deeply, bowing her head. Her hands trembled.
"I do not expect pardon for my actions, Ilharn. In your absence, I held the keys to the sigil, your upper fortress. The catalyst for power. Many wished to claim Au Shinduago in the ensuing war."

Serethiel paused, thumbing the brooch she spoke of on her piwafwi.
"I am an assassin, Lord Val'atar, not a warrior. My life, my knowledge-- these keys... would have been easy prey for the vast numbers that sought your throne. I sensed your return, though few would have it from the mouth of a half-breed... I was powerless. And so, by the grace of Vhaeraun, I hid... I watched your kingdom descend into chaos... And waited."

Her eyes flicked nervously to him, following the curve of his jaw to the necklace he wore over his tunic. One of those gems was the captain of his guard. She swallowed.
Forgiveness is for the weak and foolish. I will remember your failure until the moment I see you dead.
"As for your consort, My Lady had long conspired with the serpent, Reivan. I do not know her whereabouts. The others, to my knowledge.. dead."

Her eyes closed. "Much I have seen as the eyes of the city. There are still some who would hail your return. You know that I amoung them am yours to command."

Serethiel was quiet. Again, her heart hammered furiously as her fate hung on the balance of her words.

Her mouth agape in a silent gasp, the half-elf squirmed against her Ilharn's grasp, helplessly groping at his hands with her own while her mind was forcefully pried of thought. Every neuron screamed in pain.
Do not resist it... she told herself, meeting his bright jewels with her mismatched stare.

Do not resist.


Released, she fell to the ground, sobbing and clutching her pounding head. She nearly vomited. As the Ilharn of Qu'ellar Druu'giir plotted, Serethiel panted. The power Vierdah had granted him could easily do lasting harm. Her nerves stung like needles, then went numb. Tremors racked her body.
After what seemed like hours, she was able to kneel.

Inclining her head ever so slightly, she listened carefully to his words, on which her life now depended.

"Some answers I can give you now..." Her voice was a strangled whisper, "Oussana. Devout Vhaeraunites. They will serve you well." She caught her breath, rising off the floor.

"Reivan is dead, though I know of two agents. Deghym, Hlairyn... They are your allies, for now--... But Aleanrae-- Traitors! All of them.." A fist clenched at her side. "The houses you had known before your absence have dispersed or been destroyed. Their inhabitants now wander... Valthier amoung them."
Fist on her chest, she made a weak salute, finally standing straight.


Shying from his outstretched hand, Serethiel knew there was truth to her master's threats. She looked to the portal. In a wordless exchange, the half-drowess bowed, and stepped towards the portal.
"Master..."
Her face was grave.
"The Witch will seek you when she hears of your return..." A sudden air of cautious concern struck her voice.
"Shadows keep you."

Without a second thought, the assassin of Qu'ellar Druu'giir stepped through the door, plunged once again into her life of servitude.

A tiny feline made its way through the level of defenses surrounding the great house. Its exterior and interior were not strangers to it, as it padded along the corridors. Making sure to keep mostly out of sight the small creature made its way to stand before two massive doors. Scratching its paw upon the solidness of them, standing back as the doors popped open enough so that a smallish head could poke through.

Peering downward the imp caught sight of the feline and sneering at it only a moment before its eyes opened wide in recognition. "You take a great risk of being seen or caught." it spoke hastily in hushed tones, shutting the door quickly as the cat wandered inside.

Leaping up onto the massive bed and sliding up under the thin wispy veil of a curtain it curled up onto its side. Red eyes glaring at the imp as it lazily batted the tip of its tail back and forth. Stretching out its tiny paws in front of itself it laid down with a smug air about it.

Approaching the truly massive gates of the fortress house Eilov admired the deterrent, for while it was useless against a mage as skilled as he it would prove a difficult obstacle to any non-magical fighting force; even after getting through, to face a half demon lord in his own domain would be sheer suicide, funny as the thought was. Approaching a guard he reduced his weapons and lowered his offhand offensive magics, raising the defensive ones in return, flattening his palms he bowed at the waist. "Hello, my name is Eilov Rukanyyr. I have come to speak with a member of Qu'ellar Druu'giir about my joining."

Bowing deeply before the impressive half demon, "My Lord Druu'Giir, I am from a humble house of no renown and my purpose is to serve; you if you will have me. I have great talent in the arcane art of the dead and seek to enter the ranks of your prestigious house, Lord Master of Au Shinduago, Patriarch of Qu'ellar Druu'Giir." Eilov did his best to keep his posture, hoping that the powerful half demon would not desire his death.