"My lieutenant was assassinated without my permission," Morga shouted, smashing her mailed fist into the table so hard it buckled. "I demand revenge!"

   The muscular clean-shaven drow woman had been livid ever since the body of her second-in-command, Kalesh, had been found. Since the deceased male had been her second-in-command, the meeting to discuss his demise was held in Morga's strategy room near House Malande's barracks rather than in Matron Soresha's audience chamber. The oval room was dominated by the huge table in the center upon which maps could be laid out for tactical planning, but the room also held wall-mounted maps of the Erelhei-Cinlu region, racks of Morga's favorite weapons and a couple of smaller tables. Laid out on one of those tables was the body of Kalesh, the look of shocked surprise on his face frozen in death.

   "Calm down, daughter," Soresha said flatly. "The examination is not yet done."

   Kalesh's body the process of a thorough examination by a thin drow female dressed in a surprisingly practical set of surgical rags covered by an apron wielding a scalpel. Cirilla was the house physician and healer of house Malande, a position no drow would envy. Not only would a healer be the first to be blamed for the death of anyone of importance, but drow lives were worth so little in many cases that her very role seemed pointless. Nonetheless, Cirilla took her job very seriously and to ensure her continued usefulness complemented her medical work with brewing poison, studying the processes of undeath and devising and maintaining new torture techniques.

   "Definitely poison," Cirilla said in her raspy voice. "There's a small puncture wound on his neck. Probably administered through there."

   "Is that what you saw, slave?" Soresha asked, turning to face the blonde, blue-eyed human woman who was kneeling and whimpering  fearfully at the matron's side.

   Sirina looked between the faces of the assembled drow, her entire body shaking with fear. She had only been in the household for around a week and already been tortured, conditioned, almost raped and become the witness to a murder. The blonde girl looked over to Kalesh's body and her pale skin rippled.

   "I was on the ground. He was standing over me. I raised my arms to shield myself, screaming at him that he was... that he was breaking the command of my mistress. Then I heard him scream, and when I opened my eyes there was a shadow behind him. I couldn't see who it was but Kalesh did. He seemed shocked... and then he collapsed. Whoever it was got him from behind while he was focused on me," Sirina said, her beautiful voice cracking.

   Soresha rubbed her chin. Her narrowed eyes darted from Sirina's sobbing form to Morga's furious expression and then to Kalesh's corpse. 

   "The male Kalesh was trying to rape my slave, despite my explicit command not to. As such, his slaying was justified," Soresha said in a very calm tone. "If whoever committed the act or ordered it comes forward now they will be appropriately rewarded for it."

   The assembled drow murmured. Everyone seemed on edge and anxious, but neither of Soresha's other daughters seemed to be very worried. Nobody was foolish enough to take the bait the matron had laid out. While killing Kalesh was justified, doing so without Soresha's approval and in the sacred chapel of Lolth no less was a hideous crime. The 'reward' one could expect for a confession would be a congratulation on a job well done,  followed by a slow and agonizing death.

   "We only have your slave's words that Kalesh was going to violate her," Morga said with a huff, unclenching her fists and folding her muscular arms across her chest. "How do we know she didn't do it? She could have made that whole story up!"

   Cirilla rolled her eyes and mumbled something into the surgical mask covering her mouth. Mayena, Soresha's youngest daughter and sorcerous prodigy, stepped up to the table.

   "Do you think she managed to conjure poison out of thin air, sister? Do you think this pale wench is some master assassin, sent here in disguise to kill us all?" Mayena said with a derisive snort. "Look at her. She's a trembling wreck. And furthermore, if she truly was an assassin or infiltrator, do you really think she would have wasted her cover killing someone as useless as Kalesh?"

   A roar of mocking laughter rose from the assembled drow until Soresha gestured for silence.

   "My daughter is right. Sirina was searched thoroughly Lysindra for any hidden equipment. More likely Kalesh was struck down by someone with a personal grudge who wishes to remain hidden. You are hereby all ordered to investigate this death in whatever manner you each find appropriate. Finding evidence of who slew this male will earn you favor with me. Kaull, Sirina, let us go."

   Soresha turned and left the table, her high heels clacking on the stone floor as she exited. The tall, stone-faced arms master Kaull followed her, pushing Sirina ahead of him. As the matron and her servants left, a moment of silence fell over the room. The three daughters of the matron regarded each other, as if each was trying to read the thoughts of the others.

   "I -will- find out which one of you ordered this, with Lolth as my witness," Morga said, jabbing an accusing finger at her two sisters.

   "I do not know what motives Lysindra may have had, but I will find out my own way," Mayena said with a thin, humorless smile.

   Lysindra, the oldest sister, shot her younger sibling a venomous glare. 

   "Be silent, wretch. Your sorcery lies behind this, and there is no hiding from the gaze of Lolth. Whoever slew the male in Lolth's temple without our mother's blessing will suffer greatly."

   Mayena and Lysindra glared at each other for a few moments, each trying to make the other flinch or betray some sign of weakness. Then they turned and left the chamber through opposite doors, Lysindra followed by her small entourage of junior priestesses and Mayena followed by the corpse-like elder wizard of the house, Neorik.

   "Find out what that poison was," Morga snapped to Cirilla, who was bent over Kalesh' corpse once more with a long, thin syringe in one hand. "And send word for me if there is any news."

   Cirilla bowed briefly and watched Morga and her soldiers stomp out of the planning room, leaving the physician alone with the corpse.

   "Who would have thought you'd be even more trouble dead than alive?" Cirilla said to the corpse before jabbing the needle deep into the dead flesh.

***

   "It must be lady Mayena," guard captain Ildralan said with conviction. "Everyone knows she is an aberration. A female mage, how disgusting."

   Morga rolled her eyes at the male she had just made her new lieutenant as she tried to focus on the letter she was writing. Meanwhile her new second-in-command was pacing back and forth in the strategy room like a restless dog. Captain Ildralan was by far the best qualified to supplant the deceased Kalesh, but that did not mean he was as resourceful as his predecessor. Ildralan was only used to dealing with situations involving watch schedules, maneuvers and patrols. He was a good soldier, but unimaginative and totally ignorant of politics. And yet now he kept talking about these things as if his promotion had automatically made him an expert.

"I didn't make you my lieutenant to think," Morga replied. "Leave the planning to me."

   Ildralan looked a bit taken aback, but nodded. He was taller and more muscular than Kalesh had been and lacked the dead man's nervous demeanor. His features were broad and his uniform kept spotless, which was no surprise given how much time he spent in the barracks every day.

   "Still" Ildralan began after considering the matter in silence for a few moments "who else could it be? It's public knowledge she does everything to defy the matron."

   "Of course she does, defiant little bitch that she is. But I have a feeling something different is at work here," Morga said. "Mayena thinks she's so clever and wouldn't pass up an opportunity to use her foul magic. Poison seems below her."

   "So that leaves lady Lysindra," Ildralan mused. "A priestess of Lolth defying the will of her matron?"

   Morga grunted and jabbed the point of her quill into the table, glaring up at the watch captain.

   "A priestess serves Lolth first and foremost. If she thinks something is going against the will of the Spider Queen, such as defiling her promised prize, she would act. But once again, you're overlooking something. Lysindra is a bootlick. You have seen her fawning over our mother, agreeing with her at every turn and hoping that simple devoted fervor will serve to advance her cause. There is someone else whose ambition is boundless, who seeks total control over our house... or rather to maintain control."

   Ildralan furrowed his brow as he mustered all his available brain cells on the difficult question. At least this one would not be quite as keen to betray her for his own ends, Morga thought to herself as glared at her new lieutenant. And if he does so it will be blindingly obvious.

   "The... matron? You think the matron could have killed Kalesh?" Ildralan said incredulously as his simple mind finally came to the conclusion Morga was fishing for. "But... she was the one who held the hearing to find the guilty!"

   Morga rolled her eyes.

   "My mother would never admit such a thing, if true."

   "But she is the matron. She could just openly state she had slain him because he was threatening her slave," Ildralan said slowly, trying to piece together the puzzle.

   "Unless she did it using means that she does not want us to realize she has," Morga said. "Think about it. When last seen, the matron was leaving for her personal quarters. Kalesh was slain in the chapel, several stories below. When word was given that Kalesh was dead, my mother was in her quarters again. How would she have gotten there and back without being spotted? Or any of her trusted minions, for that matter?"

   "Secret passages!" the male said with a gasp. "You think there are secret passages going from the matron's quarters around the compound!"

   Ildralan paced back and forth again rubbing his chin with one hand.

   "She could come and go as she likes."

   "Yes. And furthermore  she keeps her private quarters, occuping an entire floor of the central tower to herself with nobody else except Kaull allowed in. I believe she also keeps other secrets hidden in conjunction with the passageways in there. Whatever helped my mother rise from an outcast noble with nothing to her name to the leader of a glorious noble house. Whatever allowed her to attract and maintain supporters from the disenfranchised in Erelhei-Cinlu, even to the point of making some switch allegiances to her. My sisters think me slow, but I know a dirty secret when I see one."

   "Something that she would have to keep secret because it would be dangerous if discovered... and would allow her to keep everything under control. But what? She is already favored of Lolth, what more could she need?"

   "What if," Morga said in a hushed tone "what if my mother was not always a follower of the Spider Queen? What if she isn't even now? What if her duties as priestess today are nothing more than a veil behind which she sheds the true secret of her power?"

   Ildralan froze where he stood, his mouth lolling open. He stared wild-eyed at Morga, and she met his stare evenly. Ildralan twitched as if he wasn't sure he even wanted to try and speak the words that were welling up in his mouth.

   "Our matron? Worshipper of... another?  That would be blasphemy! As a priestess of Lolth it would be both heresy and betrayal!" he babbled.

   "Yes. It would. And yet the signs are all there. Building a power base from nothing, holding sway over minions easily, mysterious deaths in the stronghold that are never explained."

   "Kalesh's father," Ildralan said, the realiziation striking him like a thunderbolt. "He was the matron's consort and allowed in her chambers. And then he died and nobody ever took credit for it."

   "He outlived his usefulness and had to be silenced," Morga replied. "He knew things that he could not be allowed to talk about. And there is something else. A few months ago, when in conversation with a mage sworn to another house with whom our mother was striking up an alliance, I was asked whether our house had been attacked recently. I was insulted and demanded he explain his ridiculous claim, and he told me that when he had been at our compound his arcane senses had picked up a trace of outsider, even so faint. He was not lying, not with a broken nose and my hand around his scrawny throat."

   "Outsider? But wha-" Ildralan began before Morga interrupted him. The bald woman rose from her seat and walked up close to her lieutenant, pressing so close to him he could feel her breath on his skin.

   "Fiend worship, Ildralan. Do I need to spell it out?"

   The male looked like all blood had drained from his visage.

   "She couldn't. Not our matron. It... it would be monstrous. Unheard of!" he stammered.

   "Not unheard of. Many powerful drow have struck treacherous bargains with fiends for quick and easy worldly power. Even house Eilservs have dabbled with it, although there has never been any conclusive proof that could damn that great house. But this is not just a dark and terrible secret. It's an opportunity."

   "For what?" Ildralan said, still pale.

   "If we can expose this secret under the aegis of investigating Kalesh's death, then I will be able to overthrow my mother and take my place as rightful matron of this house. A matron who has bargained with fiends has no chance of reprieve from the other houses, and regardless of her personal power she will fall if she loses her support, both here and among the other nobles. That's why I have need of you, Ildralan."

   He rose to the attention, straightening his back and waiting for her command.

   "You will find out my mother's secret by penetrating her private chambers, and with that secret exposed we will rally every drow in this house against Soresha and her pet, Kaull. They will be utterly undone."

   "If there truly is a demon taint upon the house," Ildralan said thoughtfully. "But yes. Yes, we must know. Such blasphemy against the Spider Queen must not be allowed to fester."

   Morga sat back down and picked up the quill, wetting the tip with her tongue.

   "Good. Remember, this must be handled with extreme care. Do not entrust this knowledge to anyone you cannot intimately trust, or at least quickly slay."

   Ildralan bowed.

   "It shall be as you command, lady Morga. I will get to the bottom of this." 

   The guard captain turned and exited the strategy room as if he was marching in a parade. Morga's face split in a wide grin after the heavy door had slammed shut behind him.

   "So gullible and so disposable. I should have promoted you earlier."

   She returned to her writing.

***

   The natural cavern, located some distance from the city limits of Erelhei-Cinlu,  was dominated by a huge central pillar which stretched up into the distant, shadowy ceiling. Eons of erosion from trickling water had shaped the pillar into an undulating, ridged shape almost as if it were a column carved by a master sculptor. A lithe female figure, her features concealed beneath a fluttering pale grey cloak with a large hood slinked out of the darkness of a side passage, quietly studying the cavern before advancing towards the pillar. She padded silently across the cavern floor until she reached the structure and then emitted a strange whistle. Once, twice, three times she issued the odd call and then she waited.

   "Come for advice again so soon?" a hissing, pleasantly modulated voice said from somewhere above. "Or are you lonely?"

   The female looked up and pulled the hood from her head, revealing Mayena Malande's fine features. The drow wizard peered into the darkness around the upper area of the pillar and watched as a long, sinuous shape slithered down the stone surface to rest about ten feet above the cavern floor, clinging to the ridged surface of the stone like a fly on a wall.

   "I need a favor," Mayena said with a trace of reluctance.

   "A favor, now, yes? And what favor could a poor, persecuted creature like myself offer to the daughter of a matron, hmm?" the voice from above said.

   "Dispense with the act, Phazeuroth. I need your network of agents to investigate something."

   There was a rustling sound from claws digging into stone and thick, almost metallic scales brushing across the pillar and then an elongated head looking like a spearhead descended from the darkness, a pair of luminous blue eyes fixating on the drow. The creature stretched down towards  Mayena while most of its powerful but slender bulk remained in the shadows. The deep dragon emitted a sonorous laughter.

   "Ah yes, something is proving to be beyond your magic, young mistress? Perhaps a mystery, yes? A hidden enemy? A lost treasure?" the dragon inquired with genuine amusement in his voice.

   "I need one of your agents to do examine some areas of house Malande that I cannot get to. An agent skilled in sneaking and hiding. There are wards against magic, but mundane means should still be able to prevail. It will be dangerous."

   The dragon gave Mayena a curious glance and then flapped his thin wings a little, creating a small cloud of dust on the cavern floor. 

   "Wards against magic, and a mystery at home? My, this is exciting, isn't it yes?" Phazeuroth said with an excited tone. "But alas, my operatives are all valuable, hard to obtain and hard to maintain. I will need special payment to allow you use of one for this sort of... ongoing... task, yes?"

   Mayena's eyes narrowed. She had dealt with the dragon enough times to know what he would likely ask.

   "Do I have your word, Phazeuroth? This is important."

   The dragon shifted his bulk and slithered down the pillar, coming to rest on the rocky floor. He was quite long with a whip-like tail and slender limbs, his scales a deep purple color that made the creature almost invisible even to low-light vision.

   "My word? Yes. Yes, I will offer you one of my agents, in return for your payment. The usual amount of gold, plus a little something... extra."

   The dragon's jaw opened and a long, thin tongue emerged which gently rubbed over Mayena's cheeck, leaving a trail of saliva. The drow mage shrugged and rubbed the goo off her face with the edge of her cloak.

   "Then we have a deal," she said. 

   "Indeed we do," Phazeuroth said with a hiss. "May I ask, however, why you do not hire an operative within Erelhei-Cinlu for this? Surely there are enough spies, assassins and thieves for hire there for your needs?"

   Mayena was beginning to undress, draping her cloak across a stalagmite and starting to untie the cords holding her bustier together. After letting her small but shapely breasts free she began pulling her boots off.

   "This matter is delicate. I do not want either of my sisters to find out I hired someone to investigate it, and who knows who would talk if I were seen in the ghettos of the city," she said while folding one tall boot over the other on top of the outcropping. "By hiring an agent through you I am free of any blame should this lead to anything... unfortunate."

   "I see, I see," the dragon responded thoughtfully. "Treachery within your own house, then. Everyone suspecting and plotting against one another, yes?"

   "More than usual.  My mother has a plan, a plan that is very important to her. But it is one that can easily be twisted to further anyone's agenda, especially mine. Thus why I need the operative, to gather evidence against both my sisters to discredit them and advance my own cause."

   "But that is not all," Phazeuroth responded, his eyes narrowing to study the undressing drow woman.

   "I also need to discredit or weaken my mother. Finding out her secrets from her private dwelling is a start."

   "And what do you hope to find, daughter of Malande?" Phazeuroth said in his softest tone. "Something vile and nasty, yes? Something compromising?" 

   The dragon had slipped up next to Mayena, who hooked her fingers around her panties and tugged them off and stood before the creature naked. With a confident smile she flipped the undergarment over her shoulder. She was more slender than her sister and mother she but still attractive, and Phazeuroth's long tongue flicked in and out of his mouth in excitement for what was to come. 

   "Of course it's something vile. She is a drow. I'm just hoping it's something useful," Mayena said casually.

   "Then let us speak no more of it," the dragon said and reared up.

   Mayena had never figured out why the deep dragon desired her, but she had quickly decided that it was a small price to pay to have a hidden ally with the power and reach of Phazeuroth.  She did not find it unpleasant either, so it was a mutually benficial arrangement as long as none of her relatives found out she had been whoring herself out to a non-drow for power. Mayena slipped down on all fours on the smooth rocky ground and spread her legs, and the dragon did not waste much time accepting the invitation. Using his innate magic Phazeuroth shrank a bit to become compatible with the drow woman, and lowered himself down to stand over her body like a shelter. His tongue flicked out and tickled the back of her neck.

   "To business, yes" the dragon whispered.

   He lowered his long, ridged member down towards Mayena's rear and teased the edge of her labial lips with it. Had he not shrunk he would have killed the drow trying to enter her, but as it was he was large and forceful but not unreasonably so. Mayena cooed in pleasure as she felt her nipples stiffen at her lover's touch. With an almost agonizingly slow thrust Phazeuroth slid his manhood into her, the large dragon member forcing her vagina wide.  It was not painful for the mage but she grunted at the strain as the dragon entered deep into her, the tip of his penis brushing the mouth of her cervix. Then he slid back out and began to thrust, and Mayena cried out at the onrush of pleasure.

   Due to the difference in size and anatomy, Phazeuroth couldn't do much in the form of foreplay of other stimulation, except for licking her face and back gently with his long prehensile tongue. He pushed back and forth, enjoying how her soft moist confines were not shaped for his member. The forbidden nature of the coupling was part of the attraction for both of them and feeling just how different they were constructed helped enforce that. Mayena was getting wet fast which made each push easier and her slender black-skinned body shivered under the attention of her odd partner.

  Mayena closed her eyes and in her mind she could see herself as the matron of house Malande, sitting on Soresha's throne with her worthless sisters kneeling in front of her, stripped down to demeaning slave clothing. Mayena briefly saw herself with a powerfully built drow consort, but even in her mind his handsome drow features quickly shimmered and changed into the form of a dragon. Mayena cried out, opening her eyes again and returning to the moment, a moment she wished would never end. She was copulating with a beast of the Underdark like she was a filthy slave, naked on all fours in a cavern where anyone could come across them and see. And she loved it. She had made every aspect of her life into an act of rebellion.

   Phazeuroth felt himself grow more and more tense as his manhood came closer and closer to release. Thick dragon semen bubbled in his overfilled testicles which had not seen release in far too long, and he had trouble holding it back. The dragon looked down on his beautiful prize, a creature who had willingly given herself to him, and he laughed. Mayena grunted and bit her lower lip as the dragon lost his self-control and cummed, sending a torrent of thick ropy seed deep into her with each pumping of his large member. She screamed out and her hands grabbed onto the rocky ground so hard that her knuckles whitened as she orgasmed in turn. Phazeuroth's frantic thrusting sent steaming juices dripping down the length of his shaft and down Mayena's buttocks from where it dribbled onto the rocks and formed small pools of steaming white. Mayena felt like she might burst from the excess of fluid pumped into her. Her partner had not been with anyone in quite some time her addled mind noted before the thought vanished in a haze of red.

   The dragon felt his torrents of seed abate and pulled out of Mayena, sending even more of the fluid flying across the rocky floor. Phazeuroth panted and sank to the ground, momentarily dazed. Mayena slowly tipped over to one side as her limbs were losing all sensation and came to rest against the deep dragon's scaled belly which was surprisingly warm and comfortable. The dragon tailed his long claws carefully along her skin, hissing in contentment. She saw him as a pawn, he knew that, and he regarded her the same way. But these moments were still precious to him. 

   "My mother would put me to death if she knew," Mayena said, her voice hoarse and breathless. "And then hunt you down wherever you hid and mount your head on a pike."

   "Most likely, yes," Phazeuroth responded thoughtfully. "Which is why it is in both of our best interests she never finds out. Until it is too late."

   "Exactly," the drow woman said with a cruel smile. "Make sure your man finds out what I want and we'll make that happen at the Feast." 

   Mayena felt some strength return to her weary limbs and rolled away from the deep dragon's belly, getting to her feet with some effort. Hot fluid still trickled down her legs, but she didn't care as she walked over to where she had dropped her clothes and began to get dressed again. Phazeuroth gave her a disappointed look but realized the moment was over for now. He grew back to his full size, slithering along the cavern to rest behind the rock formation where Mayena's clothes were scattered.

   "You really think your mother's slave will be such a valuable sacrifice?" the dragon asked, genuinely curious.

   "She is a virgin dedicated to one of the most hated surface gods we know. Offering her to Lolth will be a deed unheard of in Erelhei-Cinlu in centuries."

   Phazeuroth nodded, his eyes narrowing as he studied the drow mage.

   "And now everyone wants to control her... or remove her," he said thoughtfully.

   "A game of tug that I intend to win, with your help. Finding out who murdered that wretch Kalesh is a good start in taking down the opposition."

   Phazeuroth nodded, his great lance-like head bobbing up and down in the semi-darkness. He was struck by sudden inspiration and his great shape rippled and changed, shrinking and losing its scaly skin. His long, narrow wings vanished into his back as he rose up on his hind legs, his front legs changing into arms. His head shrunk and became rounded as a mane of white hair fell from his altered scalp. Instead of a deep dragon, a handsome drow male stood behind the low pillar, grinning at Mayena as she slipped her bustier on.

   "I shall contact my operative at once," the drow-dragon said. "And then pay a visit to some of my favorite watering holes in the city. I have a hunch there will be gossip on the streets already."

   Mayena found her gaze wandering down to the polymorphed dragon's groin, and she involuntarily locked her dry lips as her eyes rested on his large manhood which now showed no signs of just having ejaculated copiously. But no, this was not the time. 

   "And I shall return to the compound before there is any suspicion. I expect to meet your servant soon."

   "Until then, lady Malande," Phazeuroth said with only a slight tone of disappointment in his voice as she turned, pulling her hood up and walking away briskly.

   The dragon had hoped for some more playtime, but there was always the future. Now he had a mystery to solve, and chesspieces to move.

***

      Soresha gracefully crossed her legs as she regarded Sirina following her orders. They were in the matron's library, a tall room situated in one of the spires of the Malande keep, quite some way above ground. Tall bookshelves packed with crumbling parchments and heavy ironbound tomes stretched towards the distant ceiling, and Sirina had her work cut out for her to try and clean the place. It was a pointless task, of course. Only a small workforce of slaves would have a chance of making the study spotless, and they would take a week or more to do it. The object of the task was not the work itself, but to clinically study how the surface girl handled it.

   Soresha took a sip from the tall glass of wine that rested on the small reading desk next to her chair, and studied the back of the pale-skinned girl as she struggled with a pile of books.

   "You are not used to physical labor. I can tell. Your body is soft and unspoiled, probably pampered inside a convent or private keep," Soresha said less as a question and more as a statement of fact.

   Sirina's golden-tressed head bobbed.

   "I wanted to serve P- I wanted to serve my god from a very young age. My father was very proud," she said with a strained voice.

   "You hate me," Soresha stated, letting a smile flicker across her lips. "Is that allowed by your faith? You may case working while you answer."

   Sirina put the books down and slowly turned towards the matron. The bruises dotting her body were perfectly applied so as not to mar her beauty or leave any lasting marks, and in a way only made her look more attractive. She stared down at the thick rug on the floor rather than meeting the drow's gaze.

   "I... do hate you. I wish I didn't, but I can't help it," Sirina said, her eyes hidden beneath her golden hair. "I shouldn't."

   "Why shouldn't you?" Soresha said with amusement, putting the glass back and standing up. She walked over to her slave and prodded Sirina with the tip of her stiletto-heeled boot. "We are of opposite ideals and goals in life. We both strive to destroy everything the other has built up. Why wouldn't you hate me?"

   "Because that is not right," Sirina mumbled. "We only hate and fear your kind because you never leave us alone. If there were no raids, no murders, no unprovoked attacks, there would be no reason for hatred." 

   Soresha chuckled and knelt down to place her finger under Sirina's neck, lifting her head up and jabbing one sharp fingernail into the slave girl's supple pale skin.

   "How can one be so naive at your age? You must truly have been cloistered and indoctrinated by your faith to say such ridiculous things. Your kind drove us down here, we are only inhabitants of this cursed realm because of you. You raid our cities, you seek to overthrow our goddess-"

   "That's not true!" Sirina yelped, staring up at Soresha with her eyes filled with defiance.  "I've read the true history of your race, the only reason you were driven underground was-"

   She was cut off as Soresha waved her hand dismissively.

   "The truth is a malleable thing, little one," Soresha said with a purr as she knelt down next to Sirina. "Once you have truly become my servant you will come to understand this. The drow exist through hatred alone. Without it, they are nothing. Lolth feeds them with her spite, and they return it to her thousand fold. You too will learn to hate."

   "N-never," the blonde girl said in a whisper. "I don't even hate you. I feel sorry for you."

   Soresha paused. Her lips pursed into an ugly grimace.

   "What did you say?"

   "You're just sad," Sirina said, spitting on the rug. "You sit here in all your opulence and decadence and it's just a fancy cage. You spin your plots even though your own children hate you and will one day kill you just to take your place. You could have love and happiness in your life but instead you choose this. I pity you."

   Soresha roared and slapped the blonde slave so hard on the side of the head that Sirina fell to the floor, dazed. The matron pulled a long-bladed dagger from its sheath on her thigh, and hefted it high into the air. And then she stopped herself. Staring down at the sobbing slave she realized what she was jeopardizing with this outburst. The prize would live. For now.

   "You will learn your place, my pet," Soresha said, sounding calm again but with anger bubbling just beneath the surface. "Your naive world view is charmingly quaint, but ultimately it will falter. You will be Lolth's gift regardless of your pitiful ethos."

   Sirina said nothing and simply got herself back up to her knees, her eyes once again focused on the carpet.

   "Will there be anything else, mistress?" she said through gritted teeth.

   "No. Go down to the kitchen and have them start on my supper. I will have another task for you later."

   Soresha straightened back up and left the library, head filled with swirling thoughts.

***

   Sirina padded through the corridor leading towards the matron's dining hall carrying an overburdened  large tray expertly wrought from dark metal. The matron's supper was fantastic, consisting of only the finest dishes expertly prepared and tested for poison or diseases by a series of much less fortunate slaves and servants. There was a series of long, thin meat cuts from some unspecified Underdark animal which smelled mouth-watering, a small bowl of soup, a salad made mostly from subterranean fungi, a sparkling crystal caraff filled with dark red wine and more. The blonde slave balanced the tray carefully as she walked down the soft carpet.

   "Be careful with that, if you spill as much as a drop of wine the matron will have you whipped," said an unfamiliar female voice.

   Sirina stopped and turned her head to find a slender, unassuming drow woman with stringy pale hair, dressed in shabby servant's clothing. The regular slaves and servants were almost uniformly dressed in tattered tunics together with a pair of crude sandals as a sign of their lowly status. Only the wealthy and powerful exposed their bodies in drow society. The drab appearance of the woman contrasted wildly with Sirina's skimpy and ornate outfit which Soresha had produced from her own valuables. The drow servant glared at the human girl and waved her hand dismissively.

   "You heard me, surfacer. Shoo then. Don't keep our mistress waiting."

   Sirina nodded and began walking towards the stairway again, taking great care to balance her load. The drow woman studied the receding pale-skinned back of the favored slave for a few moments before turning down the corridor again. She scurried through a side passage and up a spiraling stairwell into one of the secondary towers of the Malande fortress, following another corridor up to a heavy-set door made from blackened wood and covered in arcane decorations. The drow servant raised her hand to knock the door, first two quick knows then one resounding one followed by a moment of silence, and then two more quick knows. After a moment, the door clicked and a voice spoke in the woman's ear as clearly as if the speaker was standing behind her shoulder.

   "Enter."

   Mayena Malande sat reclining in a thin wooden chair encrusted with spiraling forms of aboleths, basilisks, ropers and other underground monsters. The youngest daughter of the matriarch sat with her legs crossed and waited patiently for the servant to enter, close the door and walk up to the center of the room. The arcane laboratory of Mayena was as dingy and disordered as the matron's library, if not more, with magical manuscripts competing for space with alchemical devices, pickled monster remains and other oddities. Neorik stood behind Mayena as usual, his shriveled featrues thrust forward and his skeletal fingers locked around his mage's staff.

   "Everything is going as planned. There was the usual questioning and suspicion that accompanies all new servants, but our common friend was prepared. They found the unpleasant secrets they expected in my history and stopped looking," the servant said, bowing with elegance.

   Within the sanctuary of the lady mage, the drow servant changed her stance. Instead of the subservient hunch of an indentured worker she straightened up and thrust her hips to the side, her fearful expression changing to a confident smirk. 

   "I have probed the entrances to the closed-off area of the building that I have been able to find. They are magically sealed and covered in traps, but that's nothing I can't get past. You're lucky you contacted our mutual friend, though. If you had tried, lady Mayena, you would have been slain by something very mundane yet very deadly."

   Neorik chuffed at the audacity of the newcomer, but Mayena waved for her mentor to be silent. The lady mage did not care as much about ceremony as her sisters, and to her the goal was the only important thing.

   "Excellent. When will you attempt to enter?" Mayena said with a smile.

   "I am currently memorizing the servant and guard schedules so that I can find a conjunction when I have a lot of time to work. In a few days, hopefully," the servant said.

   "Good. I need that information before the Feast."

   "You shall have it," the servant said and bowed.

   "Make sure you do," Neorik said in his wheezing voice.

   "I honestly enjoy the challenge," the assassin and infiltrator disguised as a servant said with a graceful bow and a roguish smile.

***

   "And so all glory, all life and death belong to Lolth. Praise be to Lolth!" Lysindra shouted, raising her hands to the assembled priestesses.

   "Praise be to Lolth!" the junior priestesses shouted at the top of their lungs.

   Lysindra turned to the large polished effigy of the spider queen resting above the sacrificial altar and bowed, and the assembled priestesses mimicked her action, eager to show their devotion.  As the head priestess rose again the young priestesses all bowed to her as they filed out of the chapel. Lysindra always enjoyed the abject fear she instilled in her assistants. The knowledge that one mistake could mean the difference between being a junior priestess and being the next sacrifice kept her minions in check, and Lysindra always watched them like a hawk to maintain that paranoia among them.

   As the last of the white-robed drow women exited, Lysindra turned to the effigy of Lolth and frowned. She despised the charade, but it was necessary for now. On bare feet she padded over to the door leading to the corridor and carefully locked it, then circled the chapel and ensured the doors into the side rooms were locked and barred from the inside as well. From one of those side rooms she procured a small cloth-wrapped bundle from a secret compartment at the bottom of one of the chests containing ritual implements. Returning to the chapel Lysindra pulled out a small jar from the package and dipped her finger into it. Kneeling down she meticulously began drawing on the temple floor.

   The sigils and runes needed to be exact in shape and position, so Lysindra paid the utmost attention to completing the circle before she even dared to relax. Stepping into the center of it the drow priestess felt satisfied that the symbols were done right, and she closed her eyes to mumble the words of a spell. The area around her shimmered faintly as a globe of magical force formed which encompassed the priestess and her circle but ended a good bit away from the altar and statue consecrated to Lolth. No need offending the goddess needlessly, Lysindra thought.

   Satisfied that the bubble which diverted any attempts at spying was in place, Lysindra slipped her priestess robes off, sliding out of them like a snake would shed its skin. She quickly discarded her remaining clothes and reached into the bundle of reagents to withdraw a bottled filled with swirling liquid and a curved dagger covered in odd symbols. The drow girl's eyes glowed with frantic excitement as she tore the lid off the bottle and pulled out a humanoid heart from it, still well preserved.  Lysindra began mumbling a string of words in a language older than the drow and perhaps older than the world itself, each word sounding ugly and alien as it reverberated around the chamber.

   As her chanting continued, Lysindra felt the heart she gripped tightly in one hand stir. At first it was a mere twitch, but then it became more forceful as the organ shuddered and quivered. Suddenly it began beating, a firm regular beat as if it was still inside the chest of a living being. With a mad smile, Lysindra plunged the curved dagger deep into the heart which shuddered and began pumping hot blood down the black-skinned arm of the priestess. Throwing the dagger down to the ground, Lysindra raised the heart to her face and savagely bit into the hemorrhaging object. Hot blood poured into her lips and down her elegant cheek, trickling down her sizeable breasts.

   Spitting blood, the wild-eyed Lysindra chanted a new spell, much louder this time although no sound traveled outside the protective magical sphere. An summons woven from blasphemous Abyssal words penetrated the air and the very fabric of reality as the blood-soaked priestess worked herself into an almost frothing frenzy. The air in front of her shimmered and distorted as something massive began clawing its way into the reality of the Material plane. Trickles of blackish ectoplasm flowed onto the floor as the very air bled and two massive claws resembling those of some gargantuan crustacean pushed through the dimensional veil. 

   "Azdoral oonareth Malcanthet! Malcanthet! Malcanthet!" Lysindra screamed, blood spattering from her lips.

   A huge shape, much taller than the priestess, stepped out of the dimensional gate and peered down on the disheveled drow female. It was vaguely humanoid, though with four arms (two bearing the enormous pincer-like claws that had rent the air) and with a horned head more resembling a demonic beast than a humanoid. The air was filled with the stench of decay and sulphur as the thing snorted and began speaking in a deep, rumbling voice.

   "Your summons is answered, servant."

   Lysindra was too deep in her ecstasy to respond. The blood-rage induced by the summoning had driven the priestess into a state where she was little more than a ravenous beast. She growled and drew herself closer to the towering demon, who understood the purpose of the summons and the exchange that was to be made. Lysindra reached out and grabbed the demon's huge member, stroking the organ roughly and leaning in to lick the tip, leaving a trail of blood mixed with saliva. The demon briefly reflected on how easy mortals made the existence of his kind, and quickly used his innate powers so shrink to a more manageable size. Standing a few heads taller than the drow but no longer dwarfing her, the glabrezu smirked as the priestess practically threw herself at him.

   Motioning the glabrezu onto the floor, Lysindra crawled on top of it with a feral snarl and lowered herself onto the demon's member, grunting in pleasure as each inch of his length vanished into her. The demon quickly began pumping into her, making the much smaller drow girl bounce up and down like a ragdoll. The glabrezu reached out with its smaller arms, not yet willing to damage his summoner and grabbed Lysindra's arms in a viselike grip, holding her fast against him. She was probably not unattractive by the standards of her species, but for the demon Lysindra mostly just resembled a black-skinned succubus. He snorted derisively. Such frail, disgusting flesh.

   Lysindra screamed out as she was roughly penetrated, the demonic member filling her. She was still lost in her ritual state and made no efforts to free herself, bouncing up and down while growling  like a wolf. The demon for his part leaned up and let his forked tongue lash out, stimulating her nipples with whip-like lashes. Her nipples quickly stiffened and the glabrezu found each lick carried the taste of fresh blood from the copious amount Lysindra had spilled over herself in her summoning rite. The drow priestess was growing sweaty, her eyes squinted closed as she bobbed up and down, her long white hair matted against her scalp. Had she truly expected an abyssal lord to answer her summons? The demon didn't know, nor did he care. 

   He thrust into her with such force that her sweat-slick arms almost slipped out of his grip and then cummed, howling as he filled the drow with his seed. She screamed out and shuddered as she was filled, and was soon shaking on top of him as she experienced her own moment of ecstasy. She twictched against his rugged skin and screamed out strings of curses in Elven and Abyssal as she came, then finally lost control and flopped down against his chest like a ragdoll. The demon, having nothing resembling a mortal physiology and not being exhausted from the act, rose up and tugged the dazed priestess off his large member, laying her down in a pool of mixed fluids on the cold stone floor. Then the glabrezu simply sat down and waited for the summoner to regain his senses. After all, he could not return to the Abyss until he had answered her request,  that was how these things worked.

   "I sincerely hope that nobody else is aware you use these chambers for summoning my kind" the glabrezu said conversationally, sitting down cross-legged on the floor a few feet from the priestess. "The Spider Queen is not one to be crossed, even by us."

   Lysindra stirred slowly, agonizingly. Her head was clearing from her self-induced frenzy but was now pounding instead. She was a mess, covered in blood, sweat and sexual juices, a trickle of demonic cum trickling down from her lips. She got up to a sitting position, staring up at the demon's expectant form.

   "Of... of course not..." she said, coughing. "You think I... survived this long by being stupid?"

   The glabrezu shrugged with all four of his arms at once.

   "Who knows? Mortals are odd creatures. Anyway, you have summoned me and offered me the ritual joining of flesh and blood. I am compelled to obey. Or at least listen."

   "There is a girl" Lysindra began, wiping the trickle of thick fluid from her chin. "A slave. Taken by my sister and now claimed by my mother. She is a virgin, and dedicated to Pelor."

   The glabrezu shuddered at the name. The mere mention of the sun god  was unpleasant, even if it had no power over the massive demon.

   "How precious. Do you wish to offer this girl to my lady as a sacrifice? She will enjoy that a lot, I think."

   Lysindra shook her head.

   "Yes and no. My mother plans to keep this slave safe until the time of the Feast of Lolth, when she will be sacrificed to the Spider Queen. My sisters no doubt seek to control this sacrifice, wresting control away from our mother to fuel their own glory. But I have a better plan."

   The glabrezu nodded, leaning in. Despite their massive, hulking frame his kind thrived on intrigue, conspiracy and backstabbing.

   "Before the Feast, we will defile the girl. We will do it in secret, so it is not noticeable to anyone until far too late. She will be sanctified to your lady instead of Pelor and her flesh and innocence will be merely a veil to conceal her corruption."

   The demon snorted.

   "A delicious morsel indeed. And then?"

   "Then we will make her appear untouched, and return her to her quarters for the Feast. And when my mother, or whoever has wrested control of the sacrifice by then offers the girl up to Lolth..."

   "The Spider Queen will be angry. Very angry. A tainted sacrifice, consecrated to one of the abyssal lords," the demon mused. "She will be furious. I like it."

   Lysindra grinned at the demon and playfully ran a finger down her breast, brushing across her still stiff nipple.

   "Furious enough to destroy the one offering the sacrifice, and leaving house Malande in need of a new leader. Someone quiet and fervently faithful to Lolth. Someone who has only worked to aid her mother and matron and only plotted to protect her own position," she said with a satisfied tone.

   "Namely yourself", the demon responded, nodding thoughtfully.

   "Namely myself," Lysindra agreed. "And through me, your mistress will gain a foothold here."

   "So be it," the glabrezu said in his booming voice. "Let the Feast of Lolth become the triumph of my lady, and your ascension as her servant."

   Lysindra grinned, and rose absent-mindedly flicked a strand of matted hair from her face. She had waited so long for this sort of opportunity, and now she only had to play the quiet dutiful daughter for a very short while longer. Then she would rise from nowhere and all who opposed her would be dust.

TO BE CONTINUED...