Wading through the crowd of busy Saradush were two elves and a moon-dog trailing behind her. One was a short-black haired elf in a velvet kaftan. A two-heads taller blond elf in cleric's armor and mace in hand was trailing behind her, glaring suspiciously at the humans walking around them. The day was approaching dusk, and the two elves found the setting sun to be easier on their eyes.

Saradush wasn't a very big city, but it had a reasonably large marketplace where all sorts of articles could be purchased for bottom-prices.

The taller elf snorted as she put some of her long blonde hair in her fingers.

"Mistress," the tall elf spoke, as the two were conversing in low tones so that only elven ears could pick up the words, "it is bad enough that we have to wear the faces of our ancient betrayers, but to make my hair yellow?!"

The shorter elf smiled. "Drow aren't very popular on the surface. It's better than being chased all over the city by a mob." Their appearance was merely an illusion. To go shopping for magic items, Sendai had cast a spell that would make her and Diaytha appear like elves... and to make the spider Larriaz trailing them to look like a moon-dog.

"Hah!" Diaytha chuckled. "I will crush the foolish heads of these pathetic humans. These dregs cannot be trusted to find their own backsides with a map and a magical torch."

"But then they won't let us buy their wares," Sendai said.

"Yellow hair," Diaytha snorted, referring to the fact that the hair of Drow females who were nearing the end of their days turned from white to yellow. "Faerie elf females are so repulsive."

"Oh, you're looking fine," Sendai smiled. "The men are giving you appraising looks."

"Pathetic fools!" Diaytha snarled and gave the three stevedores near the docks the dirtiest look she could muster. "They think with their stems, not with their brains. A common surfacer-male problem."

"Keep an eye out for the stalls selling magical items," Sendai asked. "That's what we're here for. Melissan gave us a 20.000 gold budget and I plan to spend every copper," she said, relishing the idea of devouring all the books on magic she was going to buy. When she had lived in the Underdark, she had nothing, but now the world lay at her feet.

Just as Sendai noticed a stall which sold magical scrolls, she walked across the crowd to take a look at him and she stepped up to take a look, she was scooped off by a bulky human with a red face, a head filled with bushy curled hair and a shirt laced with food stains. "Ey," the man snarled when Sendai picked herself up, "wchit, ye long-eared freak! Stand 'side fer the real men," he said, ending the conversation with a loud belch.

"Uncouth lout!" Diaytha said while helping Sendai pick herself up. "Mistress, allow me to flay him for your pleasure. I shall tie him to the ground, flay the skin off his abdomen and let rats feast on his living entrails!"

"Emm, that might be a bit... extreme," Sendai gulped.

"Forgive me," Diaytha spoke in a softer tone. "I keep forgetting you are not versed in the way of Lolth."

"Look at this," Sendai whispered and turned to the man now strolling away. Magic shot from her hands and tugged at a rope holding several empty barrels in place. Immediately, the barrels sped down the cart they were tied on and collided with the rude man, sweeping him off the waterfront and into the water. The man sputtered in surprise as he flopped around in the water while dozens of Stevedores laughed at him.

"Subtle," Diaytha nodded, while the two elves continued on their way, while Larriaz kept a look-out for any giant flies, "but I would have preferred to have given his heart to Lolth, mistress."

"Diaytha," Sendai spoke, still not comfortable with being referred to as 'Mistress'. She had tried several times to convince Diaytha to simply call her Sendai, but so far those efforts had been fruitless, "I have never asked you, but why have you come to the surface as a missionary of Lolth?"

"Look around," Diaytha said, "that should answer your question perfectly. Look at that female doing the laundry for her husband like a slave. Look at the prostitutes on the streets doing the bidding of the males at a whim? Look at the hapless females beaten by their husbands all around. The females in power and adventuring are but a small number in comparison to those oppressed. The human, halfling and gnomish females are but wretched things... they need Lolth. They need Lolth to show them that women can be more than they are! And why should I not be the one to show them?"

"Is that why you joined Melissan?" Sendai asked. "To bring the Word of Lolth to the surface?"

"And why not, Mistress?" Diaytha asked. "When Melissan puts her plan in motion, there will be chaos and fear all over this land... a perfect opportunity to preach the Word of Lolth to the females of the surface. I am certain it will appeal to them... Lolth is strength, after all."

"I thought magic was strength," Sendai said. "But my foster-father always said not being noticed and listening is a strength too."

"Knowledge is power," Diaytha smiled, "but only if you use it well."

"I'll keep that in mind," Sendai asked, and then walked back to the staff where she was greeted by a friendly smiling middle-aged human women. Sendai let her eager eyes roam over the magic books and was certain that she was going to buy up the whole stall.

"Yes," Diaytha said. "I have brought with me an army of Drow mercenaries to take part in the plan."

"The plan, yes," Sendai said. "The plan... It's, um, a very good plan... Is it?"

"She has not told you?" Diaytha asked. "Well, I'm sure she'll let you in on it soon. Perhaps she is simply judging your loyalty. She is a strong female, for a human, but her judgment is still questionable, Mistress."

"We'll see," Sendai said and began her purchase.

Back home, in Mellisan's secret base high in the Marching Mountains, Diaytha helped Sendai putting away her purchases. The small Drow had purchased about 40 new books and dozens of new spell-scrolls to study. Her small bookcase was dangerously close to being filled to the brim with books about magic. More often than not, Sendai would lock herself in her room and devour the many books she had bought in various markets all over the Sword Coast. She was learning more and more about magic every day, soaking up the knowledge at an almost un-elven speed. Sendai enjoyed her new life, but she still had no idea what kind of repayment Melissan would demand of her, a thought which gnawed at her spirit.

"There might be some place over there," Sendai said.

"Can't we... divide this set up, Mistress?" Diaytha asked while looking for an open spot in the disorganized long bookshelves.

"Okay, but I'd like to have parts 1 to 3 at...Diaytha?" Sendai asked. Diaytha's face was suddenly twisted in a mask of cold rage as she stared at Sendai's nightstand. There, tucked away behind a small bedside lamp, stood the statuette of a dancing female.

"What is that icon of that harlot Eilistraee doing here?!" Diaytha snarled, her eyes flashing red.

"Eilistraee?" Diaytha asked. "What's that?"

A guttural snarl escaped from Diaytha's mouth as she shot towards the nightstand and grasped the statuette, intending to smash it on the ground. The only thing that suddenly stopped her was Sendai. The smaller Drow was clinging around her arm with both her own arms, putting all her weight on it and preventing Diaytha from throwing the statuette on the floor. "Please!" Sendai pleaded, looking on to Diaytha with sad eyes. "It was a gift from my foster-father... Please, don't break it," she choked.

Diaytha's hard look softened, and slowly lowered her arm, putting down Sendai. Quietly, she handed Sendai the statuette. "My apologies, Mistress. I had no right to destroy your property." That said, she turned around and headed to the door. "But, Mistress, don't let that harlot Eilistraee chew at your strength. Watch for that."

Sendai and Larriaz stared after her, looking at each other while Sendai hugged her statuette. "Larriaz?" she finally asked her spider-friend, "what's an Eilistraee?"

Larriaz chittered, signifying that she didn't know.

On the plane of Elysium, with outstreched meadows and scenic forests under a permanent pleasant sun, five goddesses were gathered around a huge scrying bowl. In the water of the bowl, an elven ship made its way through the turbulent waters of the Trackless Sea. One of the goddesses was a tall female with a ready smile, wearing a leather tunic rich with shamrock motifs. A mysterious looking female with a ready smile stood next to her, surrounded by mists. On the other side of the scrying pool stood a voluptuous female wearing a skimpy red robe. Next to her stood a green-haired woman holding a bow. At the end of the line stood a smiling female wearing a velvet tunic, and was petting a purring cat in her hands.

"Helm's champion has fallen to the blade of the champion of Loviatar," Liira spoke.

"That was to be expected from Helm's anally-retentive paladin," Sharess giggled, but was silenced by a stern look from Sune.

"That Illasera is a dangerous one," Mielikki asked. "Is our chosen at risk?"

"Melissan still has the foolish notion that she can be turned to her army," Tymora added. "But as long as our ally will keep her seductive dreams out of Laska's mind, and Melissan will think Laska might be useful, she will be safe."

"I am still concerned about our second chosen," Sune said. "The sisters are not on speaking terms."

"Oh, that'll pass," Sharess bubbled, "those two won't be at odds forever."

"Forgive me if I don't share your lightness in this matter," Sune added. "A dangerous situation is developing."

"Oh, lighten up, already," Sharess said, "she's doing fine. They're doing fine. Give them a chance."

"Look," Mielikki said, "we all want Bhaal to remain dead and none of us wants to see an even darker person to replace him. But foremost, we all want to contain the damage the Children will do Faerun! We put our faith in Laska and Imoen even though the other gods told us we were fools! We have to stick by them now."

"That might be difficult," Tymora said, "Ao has declared that no god will be allowed to interfere directly."

"Crap!" Sharess said. "That stuffy old beard-o had to go and screw with our heads, didn't he?"

"Think of it this way," Tymora said. "Cyric can't cheat fate either this way. More and more chosen fall every day still. It is almost frightening... all the forces for good fall, while all the chosen of the darker gods remain."

"Isn't that always so?" Sharess sighed and put her beloved cat on the side of the pool.

A magical portal opened behind the goddesses, and out came a striking tall willowy Drow female with silver hair.

"Eilistraee," Tymora greeted. "Have you come to offer your support?"

"Don't discount my chosen just yet," Eilistraee smiled and sat at the edge of the pool. "I'm sure she'll make it."

"She has joined the wrong side," Liira spoke.

"But has she in spirit?" Eilistraee nodded. "I do not think so."

"Sadly, it doesn't matter what we say or do," Tymora said. "All we can do now is watch." And watch they did. The six goddesses nodded at each other, agreeing to meet again soon while each of them left the scrying pool to take care of matters pertaining to their portfolios.

Irenicus stood watching the great machine, built of magic and technology, a unusual marriage of the two disciplines displayed in this deepest corner of Spellhold. One of the patients had been forced to assist Irenicus with the manning of the machine, which encompassed the entire room. At the center of the machine was a huge glass-bubble. In it, Bodhi was floating contently in an aura of energy... she was being infused with the soul that was once Imoen's.

Irenicus wondered what was on Bodhi's mind as she floated in the tank. Whatever dream she was experiencing, a look of pure ecstasy crossed her porcelain delicate features as her jet-black hair whipped through the magic. Ever so often, Bodhi threw her head back and gasped, displaying her inch-long fangs. Last but not least, she more than often ran her delicate hands over her ample breasts, which were poorly covered by her skimpy leather catsuit.

'Trust Bodhi to turn this in an erotic experience,' Irenicus scoffed, 'But then again, what's new... To her, even breaking her hip could be turned into an erotic experience.'

He felt a twinge of jealousy when he watched her. For all the feeling he had lost, Bodhi still had them in abundance. Her vampirism had preserved her emotions, and if anything, what little inhibitions she had were competently gone. She killed at whim, and threw herself at anyone she desired. But she could still feel...

Her vampirism, however, never slowed down her withering. But Imoen's soul would make her powerful beyond measure.

Irenicus turned to the gauge, saw that the container-gem that held Imoen's soul was completely drained and nodded. "That's enough," he told his frightened assistant. Immediately, he pulled a few levers, ending the process. The aura stopped glowing and Bodhi slowly sank to her feet. The tank opened, leaving Bodhi to stand still like a stick, eyeing the room with empty eyes.

"How do you feel?" Irenicus asked.

Without warning, Bodhi let out an ear-piercing shriek and leapt over twelve feet in the air. Irenicus' unwilling assistant barely had time to scream when the vampire descended on him with claws extended. In seconds, limbs were flying, soon to be following by pieces of skin, flesh, bone and other assorted organs. The sickening sound of bodyparts splattering against the wall didn't phase Irenicus. Rather, he was fascinated with the speed at which Bodhi was dissecting her victim.

In the end, Bodhi was standing in a room over a pile of flesh which used to be a man, covered from head to toe with blood splatters. Blood dripped from her chin as the vampire snacked on the poor man's still-beating heart.

"Bodhi," Irenicus said, "you slurp. You used to slurp soup as a child and you STILL slurp."

Bodhi grinned, paused a moment to lick the blood from her lips, she looked back at Irenicus. "Jonbon... I've never felt so complete in decades! I haven't felt so powerful in, well, EVER!" she snarled. "Yes, yes... I can feel Imoen's soul stir in me... It is MINE!"

"Yes," Irenicus said. "Now, if you'd just take the time for answer me some questions and let me perform some tests..."

"Tests, smeshts!" Bodhi snarled. "I'm going out to party! I still feel Hayaxi's blood-bond tugging at my being... She will be the first I will kill with my new power!" That said, Bodhi punched straight through the wall, creating a gaping passageway into the tunnel beyond.

"What the hell?!" Irenicus shouted. "Are you NUTS?!"

"Ey?" Bodhi asked. "What's your problem now, sourpuss?"

"What's my problem?!" Irenicus seethed. "My problem is that you just put a bloody hole in my wall!!"

"So?"

"SO? What do you mean, so?!"

"So, what's the problem?"

"The problem is," Irenicus sighed, "it that you made that whole just inches away from the DOOR! Was it really that much of an effort to open the door, go through it and CLOSE IT BEHIND you?!"

"You know, that's typical of you," Bodhi said. "You always come up with simple and sensible solutions to everything! Well, my mind doesn't work that way, Jonbon! I need craziness!"

"Look!" Irenicus snarled, "when you get your own dungeon, you can punch as many holes in the wall as you like, but as long as you're under my roof..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Bodhi snorted. "Stop oppressing me already, you straight-and-narrow fascist! Why don't you go and remove that cactus you've got lodged up your backside, you Herbert!"

"Bodhi, what are you going to do? You still need to help me capture Laska!"

"If you really must know," Bodhi proclaimed, "I will be celebrating my restoration by standing on the highest railing above Brynnlaw and throw frozen salami's at the pirate-ships below. Byeeeeeeee..."

That said, the vampire was off, leaving Irenicus to sigh in utter frustration as he felt the draft creep up his legs. He could barely suppress the first cough.