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Divroos thrummed his fingers impatiently for his sister as the minutes stretched on. Then, quite suddenly, a servent burst in. Divroos was particularly pleased.

It was Vuzon, the absolute oldest and most trusted servant in the ancient house. Vuzon had meandered the halls since Divroos's grandmother had been born. It had been he who had helped teach his mother to walk, and had watched he and all his sisters at their youngest stages of life.
He had once been the house's patron, long ago...the then current matron (Divroos's Great-grandmother)'s second, but favorite patron. From his loins had come six healthy females, who all became priestesses.
When the past matron had been pregnant with Alaunlara, Vuzon became ill- (not so much that he faltered in his duties to the house, which in his old age tapered down to ordering the other servants to their duties)- from a disease of the eyes. The disease moved quickly, and he became blind. But Vuzon was so acclimated to the twists and turns of the house that everyone failed to even notice his complete blindness for several years. His hearing became (within only a few years), extreme, so that when the matron did indeed find out, she thought it a shame to put him to death, being that he was still useful. And so it was, thet Vuzon, ancient and even wrinkled, blind and broken looking still quietly treaded the halls, serving his house.

"Mistress Alyune has instructed me to bring you to her. She says you have a private package for her, so I shall take you the back way where no one will see." He slowly and awkwardly signed in the silent hand code, putting emphasis on his own blindness. Divroos nearly smiled....his sister really was pulling out the cards to make the attempt of secrecy. And the attempt was all that really mattered.
Alaunlara would know of the attempt, but it was vital for courtesy's sake that she take the correct steps.
"Lead the way, Vuzon." Divroos said, barely a whisper, but audible to both of his keen-eared company.

Vuzon nodded and without another word, stretched and began his slow trafficking toward his mistress. The old drow lead the two other males thru many doors for several miles, at an ever rising, but near imperceptible upward spiral. They were in the old, now disused servant's stairs that connected to many rooms by means of unobtrusive doors for cleaning purposes.

It was ever baffling to even Divroos, who as a child (and still as an adult, but only in private), referred to the old Drow as Grandfather Vuz, and had known him as long as he had lived, that the crumpled creature was blind.
He reminded himself of the story the dead matron told him about the old servant however....
The day had come to witness the destruction of a house (a lovely treat for all!) and the heavily pregnant matron ordered him to come along in case any new slaves or servants could be bought from the soon to be un-house. Vuzon stumbled along for the first half mile, going off course every couple of feet. Then, all of a sudden, he fell on his face and began to wail with tears. The entire house was so shocked that instead of beating him, one of the guards escorted him back to the gates of the house.
Outside these walls, the old decrepit thing was useless.

Divroos privately smiled to himself. Behind him, a small loose stone slipped under the leg of the drider, making a small noise.
"What was that?" Vuzon startled, stopping suddenly.
"It was your back, old man." Divroos promptly responded.
The old drow considered this, and then with a profound stretch accompanied with an even more profound crack, decided that he agreed.

The walk continued on for what seemed like endless minutes, reaching into parts of the castle rarely used. Vuzon began to hold his hands in front of him to prevent himself from destroying the ever-increasing cobwebs and their precious weavers.
Finally, after what seemed for a small eternity, the old servant took a sudden turn into a spacious, and suspiciously perfumed room.

The cobwebs in this room had grown to incredible size, but had been carefully lifted and woven by gentle fingers to leave a web-free passage. In the center sat Alyune, draped over a long-forgotten throne and dressed in her finest of gowns. In front of her stood a heavy surface-made table of some sort of reddish wood, on which stood a dusty bottle of blood-red wine.
She pointedly studied a largish spider that was even then spinning a web to connect the city of webbing and the throne. She pouted her painted lips and blew gently, making a barely audible whistle as the spider rocked back and forth, attempting to ascend it's gossamer thread.

"My Lady, I have brought your brother as you commanded me to." Said old Vuzon. "and may I say, that your grandmother's scent smells lovely."

Alyune turned her head delicately, theatrically towards the door. Her cool facade flickered only for a moment once her eyes fell on G'eldin, barely perceptable. But inside, her mind was an explosion of questions. A drider? How!? Lloth help me.
She waved her arm quite uselessly, thinking to herself a private prayer and sat upright in the throne, whipping one leg over the other, exposing part of her thigh. She sunk her elbow onto the arm of the throne, and rested her chin in her hand. Very matronly. Very calm. She thought to herself.
"On both accounts, thank you Vuzon. You are excused."

The silence pervaded then, the female studying her brother, and more aptly, the drider beside him. It was only when there came a distant and feint creak that Alyune moved.
From out of her sleeve she drew a wand. Though she no longer commanded her sorcery, she could still pull a few simple tricks with a wizard's wand.
With a flick of her wrist, the door whispered shut behind them and clicked locked. And with a small twirl and a muttered command phrase, a basic privacy spell she had prepared earlier with a few magical components was set off. Scrying attempts were nulled, and sound was prevented from traveling outside the room. She had finally conquered that spell.
Alyune smiled at herself triumphantly. Her long hours sitting and burning her eyes out with that damned candle were, perhaps beginning to pay off.

She then pulled herself from her private victory and acknowledged her two male visitors, putting on an expression of vague curiosity, masking her misgivings about her brother's unusual choice. Finally, she addressed them.
"What have you brought me, Divroos?" she purred.

Without adverting his gaze from the matron herself, G'eldin gives a nod towards Divroos, "As you wish."

He bows his front legs, kneeling them against the cold hard ground, "Vendui', matron. He spoke the truth. I have never been cursed by the Great Goddess herself, and if you have reasons to doubt this, I will not resist any tests of my loyalty to Her.

"I was born of noble blood, in a house whose name is now irrelevant among the drow community, but had once been a word of notice many years ago. Only natural born driders would have four eyes, while those whom had lost their lower half in either an attempts to retain her favor or those whom have had the spiders pick at their legs until the bone was gone as a form of punishment would have only two. I have lived long enough to master my two daggers and my sword to perfection.

"I have come here to pledge my loyalty towards your house, which has shown much promise in the years to come.

"There are ways for a Drider to... reproduce, as well, which is to my knowledge, your desire for a patron. There is a chance that if you were to born spiderchildren from your womb instead of merely drow, you would find even more favor with Our Goddess. She can easily see the difference between driders whom have been cursed to those of us whom have been fortunate enough to have been born or created in Her name." His stare doesn't shift during his explanation, knowing he must show absolute confidence in Adharra. His spider legs, still silent and still kneeled as he looks at her, wondering her response as he remains resolute in his stance, knowing that he had spoken a lot for a male, but deemed that explanations are a necessity.

G'eldin returns the grin with his own bowing his head slightly, "At your command, my mistress." He follows Adharra's lead, but pauses a moment, taking a glance at Divroos with two of his eyes, the smile still upon his face. This will be interesting, Divroos.

He returns to following Adharra, looking over her body out of the corners of his eyes in curiosity when she does not look at him, choosing to postpone looking directly at her for now.

G'eldin does as Alyune says, pouring them both glasses of wine, sitting on his own legs because the chair would have proved a tiresome task to be comfortable. "What I am expecting? I assure you, matron, I have no hidden secrets here. The days following the mercenaries into the depths of the Underdark have become stale to my tongue. I desired something with more significance.. more meaning. As an upcoming matron such as yourself, I'm sure you can relate that the lust of power and the possibility to prove yourself to Lloth, Our Queen, truly is a tempting one." He pushes Alyun's glass across the table over to her.

He pauses, looking at the wine in his glass. "So when I heard your brother was looking for a patron, I wondered exactly what this could lead to. Such possibilities had brought me to wonder what could I become, and if it was better than where I was then."

He waited for Alyune to take a sip before he took one himself, "I must say, your brother waited a long time, I had expected to find at least one more other than I to take up Dirvoos's offer. I watched him for hours as I contemplated my decision." He smiles at you, "And as you can see, here I am."

He looks the matron over subtly, "Might I be so bold to add, mistress, that so far I am quite... content with my decision so far." He gives a wink at this, a toothed smile showing his sharper than average teeth.

Saved and prepared for wipe