Farenth relaxed into the plush velvet cushions of her chair as she watched Tull, his racing thoughts evident in his eyes. She sat, amused at his current state of shock, *although, I had thought he would have noticed my interest in him long before now* she mused. Sipping at her wine, she gave him a few minutes to recover his composure, all the time taking note of his reaction.

When his eyes conveyed that his mind was no longer racing, she said, "Well, have you thought of what to say?" Amusement colored her voice as she resumed teasing him.

He settled into a seat beside hers as he pondered what he should say. *It still doesn't seem real* he mused. *Why would she chose me?* Clearing his throat, he looked at Farenth and whispered, "Thank you, yathrin. I am honored that you think I can be of service in that way.

Smiling, Farenth leaned forward and rested a fine sculpted hand lightly on his thigh. "Good, for I will need your services.” She paused, then continued very seriously, "Not now, but, something tells me that I will be very busy, very soon. I expect you to use your head when it comes to your service to me.” Again, a smile played briefly across her face.

Hiding his surprise at her last statement he answered softly, "Xas, Yathrin." He couldn't help himself, his eyes slid down her figure as she leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs, clad in the leather riding breeches she still wore from her ride back from Rilauven. She smiled as she saw his gaze admiring her. A sudden stiffening in her sore muscles made her wince briefly and stretch to relieve the tense muscles.  A move that only made him gaze all the more admiringly as the muscles rippled under the tight leather.

"I could use a hot bath...” Farenth mused aloud. Tull smiled and summoned one of his unseen servants to prepare a bath for her, not missing the cue of that statement. She laughed softly as she noticed his prompt action upon her implied request. " You would do well as a servant. Perhaps the same will be true as a guard,” she teased.

The servant finished preparing the bath and Tull rose from his chair and offered Farenth his hand. "Your bath, Yathrin," he said, a smile playing along his lips. Farenth accepted the proffered hand and rose from her chair as gracefully as her sore body would let her.

"Bel'la dos, Tull," she said, and let him lead the way to the bath chamber. The chamber was spacious, with a large marble tub filling near half of it. The young drowess noted that two people could easily lounge in it together in comfort, a smile playing across her lips at the thought. She discarded the notion rather quickly, wanting nothing more than to relax in the streaming water. 

She let Tull undress and help her into the streaming tub. As she settled into the soothing heat of the water a sigh escaped her lips. "That feels so good... thank you again, Tull.

Tull smiled and knelt next to the tub, behind her, and began to rub her shoulders and neck as the heat of the water worked on relaxing her back and legs. They both remained silent for a time, as the tension slowly eased from Farenth's body.

They talked for a bit about events that Farenth had missed while away at Rilauven, finishing her business there. She sensed that Tull was leaving something out, but she was too tired to pry it out of him tonight. *I shall learn what it is later. Surely it can wait until tomorrow,* she thought. 

Relaxed, and feeling much better for the hot bath, Farenth stood up in the tub, letting the water slide off her body. Tull slipped out of the chamber briefly, and returned with a clean warm robe, which Farenth slipped on against the chill of the air as she stepped out of the tub. 

The two of them walked back into the main chamber, where Farenth retrieved her forgotten goblet of wine and lowered herself (more gracefully this time) into the soft cushions of the couch. Tull seated himself beside her, quiet in thought as Farenth sipped at her wine. Farenth was sure he was pondering about their new 'relationship', just as she was. She finished the last of her wine and set the goblet on the table beside the couch as a yawn escaped her lips. Tull looked up at the sound and frowned slightly.

"You are tired. Perhaps you should retire and get some rest,” he suggested softly. Another yawn escaped, and Farenth realized that he was right. *That journey wore me out more than I expected,* she thought. She nodded and pondered whether she felt like changing back into her dusty travel clothes.

Tull seemed to read her mind as he said, "Do not worry about your clothes. I shall have then cleaned and sent to your quarters.”

Again she nodded, and rose from the couch...

"Until your next visit, yathrin," Tull bowed deeply and showed Farenth out of his chambers, their last few hours having been very interesting for them both.

"Xas, Tull," she gave him a sultry grin, "until the next time. Maybe then your concentration won't be somewhere else. Or were the stories I heard about you exaggerated?"

Tull smirked and harrumphed, just a touch of pride in his expression.  "I will make sure that your next visit will be a most memorable one, Farenth."

"We shall see, elder boy of Xol'Niaren. We shall see," Farenth glanced his way one more time and began walking out of his chambers. "Do think on my proposition, Tull. But do not tarry long, you are not the only one I have had my eyes on." With that final statement, Farenth disappeared within the shadows of Xol'Niaren's corridors.

Tull closed the door and walked back to his study, deep in thought. *Me, a khel-kyorl,* he thought over and over, the title still sounding a bit unusual to him. He shook his head clear of the thought and tried to remember what he had been doing before Farenth's unexpected visit. Pacing back and forth in his study, he finally remembered what he was doing. He walked back to his main chamber and looked over the laid out and covered items he was supposed to give to his mother. Pulling off the small coverlet, Tull gazed down upon the two items that still awed him with the power they held.

He picked both up and held them in his hands. Both artifacts practically crackling with magical energies. He was surprised he was able to grasp both and not drop them from the overpowering sensations that flowed up and down the items. He weighed the tiara and found it to be extremely light, almost delicate to the touch. Seeing the gemstones that studded the headpiece almost made him think twice about giving the item to his mother. There were enough diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires on the tiara to make him rich beyond anyone from the surface world. But wealth was nothing to him, other than a means to acquire what he needed in his quest to become more powerful. He knew many human mages who'd offer to teach him in exchange for the gemstones alone.

Unfortunately, the mages of the Black Network, the Cult of the Dragon, and of Thay, were too ambitious themselves to let him survive any such transaction. *No. I will give this to my mother. There are other ways to get what I need,* Tull set down the tiara and turned his eyes on the slender scepter in his other hand.

This one he knew his mother would enjoy receiving. Maybe two, two and a half inches in thickness, and several hands in length, the scepter resembled most scepters he had seen in his young life. It was the carving that rested atop it that intrigued him. It wasn't what topped most scepters of power. It wasn't a huge diamond or similar precious gemstone. Or a piece of some ancient, long-dead magical creature.

No this was definitely different with its intricately carved piece of obsidian. The carving was the head of a beautiful drowess, her features breathtaking on one side. The back of the head seemed to melt into the malignant shape of a huge spider. Tull knew this had to be an image of the Quarval’sharess^*1. The body of the object was also carved in wonderful detail. Spiders and webs so realistic it seemed at any moment they would come to life. This was the first scepter dedicated to Lloth that he had ever seen. This would make a fine gift for his mother. A fine gift indeed.

He set down the scepter and walked over to the rest of the haul. It would be a while until he catalogued everything. What better way to stall his meeting with his mother? And it should give him some excuse to get more answers from Tilfahr, also to see if her training hadn't eroded since the battle. Tull took out his spell book, sat down in his favorite chair, and began re-memorizing the unseen servant spell he had cast earlier. "I may need the extra pair of hands in the coming days..."

Mavralyn shook the memories from her thoughts and once more looked upon the vast cavern spread out before her. Sensing the male behind her as he knelt, she remained near the balcony edge as he greeted her.

"Vendui' ussta Ilharess," the quiet respect in the deep voice held a note of passion for the dark beauty that stood before the male's kneeling form.  His admiring gaze traveled over the slender curves as he waited for her acknowledgment. Venom hid a flash of lust as the sheer gown clung to her ebony figure like flames licking upward to devour her in a fiery blaze.  He let his eyes drop swiftly when she turned around in a rustling swirl of shimmering silk.

"Vendui' ussta Z'haroth^*2," she purred softly and stepped closer.  The scent of her enveloped him in another intoxicating rush of desire barely held in check as she indicated he could rise.  Mavralyn's sultry voice caressed him with a hint of future pleasures as she swept past the handsome drow, "Perhaps later I shall test your endurance...  Now that Tullarix has recovered and both Zorbock and Farenth have returned, I wish you to summon the house and have them assemble in the newly rebuilt audience chambers."

The low voiced, "Asanque^*3 ussta Ilharess," brought a satisfied smirk to her lips as Venom left to do her bidding.

Everything seemed to have been turned upside down onto its head since his return from the initial scouting of the cavern. All the ill luck he had experienced of late began as soon as he accepted that task from his mother. It all seemed to have gotten worse for him with every passing day. He was beginning to feel as if he had lost all control of his life. Sometimes, even his own thoughts seemed alien to him of late. But the sudden voice in his mind he knew all too well.

**Do not stall any further, my son. I expect you to be present in the throne room along with all House members. You have delayed meeting with me for far too long,** he recognized the tone he was hearing. One that meant instant obedience. **Do not try me, Tullarix...**

Tull did not respond to his mother's mental summons. In fact, he decided to take a much more leisurely pace as he headed towards the audience chamber where his mother waited. It was turning out to be a fine Underdark day, and he didn't want to spoil it by rushing. There was still much of the new city that he still hadn't seen. Which reminded him to make sure the Duergar he had contracted for the assault had continued to follow his instructions concerning the relocation of his cottage. Well, it was technically his mother's surface cottage, but she did say it was his to use from now on. And Tull had decided before plans for the assault were drawn up that relocating the cottage down to the cavern was a main priority for him. So far, Tilfahr's report on the cottage was the only good news he'd heard since his recovery. *I must check to see for myself if these Duergar did follow my instructions to the letter*, Tull thought.

He finally reached the temple area, late as he had planned. The temple guards instantly recognized him. Their expressions supposed to be stoic, yet he saw an unspoken relief on their faces. Relief that they were not in his place at the moment. In the past he would've dismissed their demeanor, but this was now the present. Tull marched past the guards with a haughty posture. He never even slowed for his escorts.

As much as he wanted to stay ahead of them, in the end his escort finally caught up to him and marched silently beside him towards the main gathering chamber. *Well, at least you are not headed to the main altar chamber, eh?* That sudden thought brought a smirk to his lips. And even as the thought faded back deep in his mind, he finally arrived at the door to the chamber where his mother waited.

"You may go now," he casually dismissed the two drow guards with a wave of his hand, but when they hesitated, his next statement came out low and icy. "Unless you expect something later to warrant guarding me all the way inside."

Their silent hand-talk reply said no. With stiff bows, the two guards turned and returned to their previous posts. Tull waited until he knew that no one else was around. He had to wait for a bit with all the temple workers still about. The young drow noble thought he would never be alone, but then just as sudden, the corridors finally emptied of everyone.

Turning on his heels, Tull casually slid the doors open and stepped through. Everyone was there already. In the center of the chamber was Mavralyn, his mother, sitting comfortably upon a velvet-cushioned, high-backed, obsidian throne. Standing to her right was another new yathrin he had seen lately in the presence of his mother. Also in attendance was his mother's newest patron and the house Riding Master, Venom d’Veil. Tylek and Zorbock, faern and sargtlin respectively, completed the gathering. It was a small group assembled this eve, and he sensed something important was about to happen very soon. Tull walked to the center of the room and knelt before his Ilharess, who also happened to be his mother.

"Vendui', honored Mother," Tull greeted, "I have come as per your summons."

Mavralyn studied him with inquisitive, probing eyes, still remaining silent and keeping her son kneeling until she signaled otherwise. Tull, even with his eyes lowered, could feel his mother's gaze on him as he waited for some sort of acknowledgment to his greeting. He knew that his being late did not endear him. The tension that had begun to build between Mavralyn and himself since his return from finding this recently abandoned city grew with each passing day.

Things that rarely got between them suddenly became obstacles that set him off. He may not have noticed it, but he began to see more and more of his mother's inner court as deep-rooted rivals. Rivals to be taken care of when the opportunity arose. His temper had been getting the best of him at the most inopportune times. Many who had decided to follow his mother to this cavern were already wondering why he still lived or why he hadn't gained six extra legs.

Did Tull sense the odd changes within him? The answer was no. Deep within the recesses of his mind a voice counseled him that everything he did was right and everyone else was wrong. It was this change that Mavralyn did not like. Her eyes spoke volumes to all in attendance: No one was going to act the fool this eve.

"Vendui', my son. You finally decided to join us," her sarcastic tone bit into Tull deeply and sparked the rage he barely held in check. "Tull, take your place with the others." She motioned for him to rise and join the other males. Mavralyn, sitting straight and proud, let her gaze sweep over the assembled group. She lingered slightly longer on Tull than the others. "Now that everyone is here, it is time I got this gathering started."

Mavralyn had arrived in the newly finished throne room before the rest of her house.  Letting her eyes travel about the large chamber she nodded well pleased with what she saw.  The dark stone walls glowed with dim faerie fire that highlighted intricate carvings of a drow city.  Such was the detail that when first entering the room, it seemed one was walking the cobbled streets within the city itself.  The towering majesty of a grand house here, the graceful sway of a delicate bridge there; each scene in the beautiful mural coming to life the longer one looked at the subtle sculptures.  The masterpiece was the central image of Narbondel.  Created as a duplicate of the huge spire, the miniature Narbondel acted as an ornate clock keeping time with the original outside the house.

Moving to the obsidian spider throne, Mav noted the temple image behind it.  Nodding with approval, she examined the artistry of the chair's design and let her fingers lightly trace the complex carvings upon the gleaming black surface.  Sensing the first arrivals, she settled herself in the cushioned seat and waited for the room to fill.  Just after Tullarix arrived (late as usual lately) and just before Mavralyn could begin, a sudden warping sensation caused all eyes to turn towards the spot just before the throne.  Suddenly a young drowess covered in blood appeared out of nothing and stumbled hard on the hard stone floor.

Stunned silence greeted the unusual arrival.

Mavralyn acted immediately as she recognized the drowess. Her angry command to the guards that started to close in on the intruder stopped them in their tracks.  Returning her attention back to the dazed seeming female, the Matron waited for an explaination of Orbb's strange entrance.

Orbb remained kneeling and looked up at the angry yet inquiring visage of the beautiful matron.  Her voice cracked with fatigue and strain when she spoke.  "Vendui' malla Ilharess.  Nelgeth ussa^*4... It did not go... Where I thought it would go."

The slender form crumpled suddenly and Mavralyn gestured for two servants to take the unconscious drowess to a room prepared for her.

"See that she is cleaned up and her wounds tended, then escort her back here."

*1.  Goddess (specifically Lloth).
*2.  "I greet you my mount."
*3.  "As you wish."
*4.  "Forgive me."