Clarissa made her way through the narrow hallways of the inn, her head bowed down whenever she passed a patron, as she had been taught. At first she had been rebellious to this rule, but a few lashes of the whip had made all the difference.

Clarissa was a maid, captured during a Drow raid almost two months ago and dragged back to Ust Natha to be sold into slavery. Her existence in the Drow city was not a pleasant one, especially since she was the only slave in service of the Inn. The innkeeper had bought her as an experiment, placing the young human among the other Drow commoner girls who also served as maids. Her young Drowish colleagues quickly become confronted with the possibility of being replaced with cheaper slave labor, and, fearing for their jobs, did their utmost to sabotage just about every effort she was making. Too many times had she been tripped while holding a full tray of ale mugs by an innocent looking Drow maid. Whenever she did a wash, the linen mysteriously tore apart while drying and whenever she had cleaned a room, it suddenly would be completely trashed half an hour later when the innkeep came to inspect it.

The young women had resigned to her fate, even though she would dream of freedom every single night, and could think of very little else every waking moment. This Drow city was so dark and so alien to her. She was used to green pastures and friendly smiles. Then, her family was killed by Drow and from one moment to the next, she was buried in a world of darkness and deceit. Her control collar around her neck still itched.

"House keeping," she called as she knocked on the door. She just hoped she wouldn't run into a perverted Drow with a fetish for human slave-girls... just like yesterday.

"Come on in," sounded the surprisingly pleasant voice of a woman from the other side of the door. The room in question was one of the large luxury suites overlooking the lava-lake, usually only affordable by the richest of merchants, strongest priestesses or most honored of guests.

Clarissa opened the door and pushed her cart into the suite. It was huge, the largest, and well decorated by an obsidian mural on the one side, and several sculptures on the other. A soft chaise longue and matching table was the center of the room. A luxurious bed stood on the other side of the room, on top of a small dais. Two obsidian statues of naked females flanked the bed, while a huge arch in the back gave access to a luxurious balcony overlooking the small lava-lake surrounding the spire the inn was hewn from.

The young maid, however, was surprised not to see anyone here, but she was sure that someone had answered her call. "Hello?" Clarissa called out as she walked into the room, looking around for the owner of the voice.

"Over here, mousey, mousey."

Clarissa turned around but still saw nothing. But then she looked up. And there, in the corner against the ceiling, hung the room's occupant. Whoever she was, she defied gravity : her back was pressed into the corner, while her legs were folded against each opposite wall. Her arms were held against the ceiling, in a pose reminding Clarissa of a hungry vulture.

The woman was completely obscured from sight, however. She wore a black robe with a huge hood, making it impossible for Clarissa to see the woman's face. The only thing she could see were the woman's hands, which had the color of porcelain, but showed cracks in the skin as if they had been broken from the inside out, while some parts of her hands didn't seem to be covered with skin at all.

But before Clarissa could say a word, the woman jumped on top of her, pressing her against the floor. The woman then picked her up without effort and threw her on the chaise longue. Immediately, the woman pinned her down with an unnatural strength. Clarissa tried to scream as the woman held her and flailed her legs wildly in an attempt to escape. Immediately, she felt the woman apply strong pressure on her back. Pain exploded through her as she felt, and heard, a sickening crunch from the base of her spine. Immediately, her legs went limp and unresponsive. The woman then bent forward and, while making sure the hood remained in place, licked the base of Clarissa's neck... Clarissa grimaced in pain as the woman ripped away the collar and bit down hard on her neck.

It was painful at first, but soon Clarissa was overcome with an intense euphoria. Slowly, the room started to fade. Time stopped, nothing existed, there was only the moment, herself and the woman... This woman, a goddess, a giver of joy and dreams! Flying... she was flying! Away was the darkness, away was the pain and misery! This woman, this woman was a goddess! A saint! A savior! How much she loved her unknown benefactor. Tears of joy ran over her cheeks.

Clarissa snaked her arms around the woman and held her tightly, and with all the love she could give. "Freedom," she whispered as her vision started to fade. "I'm free," she whispered as darkness started to claim her.

The maid's body was unceremoniously tossed over the balcony to burn to cinders in the lava-lake below. Bodhi leant forward and watched the cloth-covered body splash into the molten rock. The vampire had drained every last drop of blood from her victim's body. Later, she would have to drive the cart back to the hallways and make it seem like the slave had fled.

Ust Natha was not a safe hunting ground. Those Drow were suspicious to the core, and would definitely notice if one of their number would go missing. Luckily for her, most slaves were less scrutinized.

She needed victims and fresh blood to regenerate from her injuries from Spellhold. She cringed every time she remember the horrifying fires and... the smell. Bodhi turned towards the mirror, but saw no reflection. Only her black cloak which completely covered her body could be seen, seemingly floating in the air. For a moment, Bodhi spun on one foot and let the cloak fly as she watched the dance in the large mirror dominating the wall near the balcony. These Drow were nothing if not vain, and the size and placement of the mirror only accentuated this.

Sadly, Bodhi could not use the mirror to see herself... and at the moment, she really wouldn't have wanted to. Her body was still battered and damaged from the fire and the salty seawater, and she had to regenerate herself with fresh blood.

With fear in her heart, she felt her face. She had consumed several stragglers on Brynnlaw, some fleeing pirates from the village which fed her desire for blood and renewed beauty. She had healed somewhat when her brother found her, apparently having taken quite a beating as well. With her brother on tow, Bodhi had carved a path of violence on their way to the city, capturing and consuming any blood-bearing creature that was unfortunate enough to cross her path. So far, it had healed her, but not completely. Oh, her power was back, as well as her bloodlust... but her body, her beauty had not been restored.

As she let her hands roam over her face, she felt bloody tears sting her eyes. Her formerly flawless porcelain skin was cracked and torn. Here and there, strands of hair had returned to her scalp, but mostly it had been burned away. All the victims she had consumed in the past few days had not helped her regenerate further, and even draining the maid just now didn't have any effect...

Bodhi sighed. Her looks were her meal-ticket. They had helped her seduce countless of men and women of all races and creeds. Now, those looks were gone and now she had to resort to cowardly techniques of trickery and breaking her victim's back to keep them from struggling, techniques she hadn't needed to use since her days as a young fledgling. Her victims were supposed to embrace death as they embraced her beauteous form... but the Bhaalspawn had destroyed her. To her it suddenly seemed as the mirror was mocking her by stubbornly refusing to show her herself.

A silent cry escaped from Bodhi's mouth, causing the mirror to shatter into a thousand pieces.

For the first time in centuries, Bodhi felt shame.

The main room of the inn was layered in about twelve somewhat narrow circles in the lower section of the spire. The upper eight circles were occupied with tables and seats. The two below that were lined as one long round bar where patrons could sit and look over the edge, because the entrance ring not only served as a reception and entrance, but also held two huge arenas on each side. The lowest ring, lastly, was the kitchen where all the food was prepared. In the center of the twelve circles, Drow waitresses levitated up and down to bring the customers their orders.

The cloaked Bodhi walked the stairs down to the lowest bar-circle, only to find her brother sitting at the bar nursing yet another drink. Bodhi sighed heavily, thinking of what a colossal drunk Joneleth had turned into. When she came closer however, she noticed he was... weeping?

"Those Drow killed it." Irenicus sniffed when he noticed Bodhi was approaching.

"What?" Bodhi said. "Drow kill things every chance they get! It's their hobby!"

"There," Irenicus sniffed and pointed at the remains of a black candle on the bar.

"But... you're crying over a molten candle?"

"And now it's all gone, just a puddle of wax," Irenicus sniffed. "This is the saddest thing I've ever seen."

Bodhi sighed and shook her head. "I really should toss you over the railing. If you land on your head it might just cure you a little."

"I don't need to be cured," Irenicus said. "I need another drinkie-poo!"

"He's had enough," Bodhi snapped at the bartender.

"I'll TELL YOU when I've had enough!" Irenicus snarled and grasped the bottle in the bartender's hand, pulling on it with all his strength. Unfortunately, he was still weakened from the battle at Spellhold. His hands slipped and the mage flew backwards, slamming into the railing and almost falling down. Tired, the fallen elf sunk to the floor and sat down.

"Look at you," said Bodhi. "Pathetic drunk!"

"Better than a burned husk," Irenicus said. "Pulled yourself together already, Bodhi? Did your arm fall off again?"

"Not since I drained that Aboleth at the city market," Bodhi said.

"Ah, yes," spoke Irenicus, "I've heard that Ardulace is still looking for the person who destroyed her prize. Whether it is to kill you or do you, I don't know."

"Oh, yes." Bodhi licked her cracked lips. "These Drow have a deliciously free sexual morale."

"Then you should feel right at home," Irenicus said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on," Irenicus replied. "Last time we were here you went through every employee of the lust chambers at the top of the inn and blew a great deal of our budget. Don't think I didn't hear your climactic screams... come to think of it, I'm pretty sure the entire city heard them just fine."

"Hey, those Drow know their stuff," Bodhi snarled. "At least I actually HAD sex in the past couple of centuries! Besides, it didn't cost a thing : it's a free service!"

"I prefer celibacy over your excesses," Irenicus said. "Besides, it goes by 'fair-use'-policy. They gave me the bill of your last night here, remember? Hire of three males, five females and a whipping post... but those costs didn't even come close to the cost of the damages to the room."

"Hey, when I want to have fun, I have fun. I work hard, I play hard," Bodhi grinned. "Besides, I seduced and killed that rich noble in Amn, and we came out of it richer than ever after my vampires raided his house."

"That's besides the point," said Irenicus. "Fact is, your sexual escapades are an embarrassment to yourself and to me."

"Those 'sexual escapades' keep me fed and healthy!" Bodhi shouted back.

"You didn't eat those Drow pleasure masters and mistresses," Irenicus said matter-of-factly.

"That was just for fun!" Bodhi said. "I can have fun, can't you? I can't help it that you are so stuffy and dusty. I swear I can smell mold whenever I walk near you! I'd say that you just need to get yourself laid soon, but I'm pretty sure it won't help much because the only things you probably have in your cod-piece are cobwebs!"

"And no doubt your undergarments are red hot from the friction of pulling them up and down so many times in an hour!"

"Prude!"

"Whore!"

"Impotent squid!"

"Whore!"

"Needlestem!"

"Whore!"

"Ermmm... Thinking, thinking... Dammit, I need a new insult..."

"Dumb Whore!"

"Hey!" Bodhi said. "Stop this, we're just shouting insults at each other! We should be plotting our revenge, brother!"

"Whore!"

"Stop that!"

"Whore!"

"ARRGHHH!!" Bodhi snarled and stamped her foot on the floor again and again and again.

"Hah, won again," Irenicus said and crawled up for a bit. "You were always easy to distract."

"I am not easy to distract!" protested Bodhi. "I am focused and direct and... wow, who's that down there?"

Irenicus glanced down. There, at the door stood a tall and powerful female Drow. Her long white hair hung loose and flew across her cape as she walked. The young Drow was wearing something that could only be described as a 'fashion armor'. The metal was a sheer work of layered art, lovingly handcrafted and painted by dozens of artisans. The armor was light, yet somewhat bombastically blue. The armor let her shapely and perfectly hewn midriff bare, while the small breastplate seemed to have a 'maximum push-up' effect. A black velvet cape was strapped to the armor, as well as two beautiful swords sheathed onto either side of her greaves.

"Oh, that's Phaere," Irenicus said. "She's the First Matron's eldest daughter."

"Arrogant too," huffed Bodhi. "Strutting around like she owns the place."

"Really? Well that sounds like you, back in Suldenesselar."

"Bite me," Bodhi sneered.

"Anyway she does."

"Does what?"

"Own the place," Irenicus said. "From my conversation with Ardulace, I picked up that she was the owner and proprietress of this large inn, or 'entertainment center' as she calls it. She has an office here and lives on the top floor. She also founded and runs the Female Fighter Society and owns all rights to import trade and sell the the goods."

"Busy little bee," Bodhi replied.

"Phaere Despana bought herself into power," Irenicus said. "It's clear that Ardulace fears her, but she's fairly sure that Phaere won't seek to dispose her if she's too busy running these establishments."

"I'm not so sure," Bodhi said. "I think she's like me... Always wanting more luxury."

Phaere then walked to the center of the spire and levitated upwards. The waitresses bowed their heads and avoided her as the powerful Drow rose to the top of the spire. Above the main room with the twelve circles were the rooms, which were also laid out in circular patterns. Phaere disappeared in a more narrow hole in the ceiling of the giant room.

"Straight to the pleasure chambers," Irenicus said. "Figures."

"She's got style!" Bodhi smiled.

"I'm taking this bottle up to my room," Irenicus said. "Do keep yourself out of trouble."

"Hey, you know me!"

"Yes, I do," Irenicus said. "Keep out of trouble and keep a low profile. You can't even begin to realize how much effort I had to put into convincing Ardulace to support us, so don't ruin it for us."

Irenicus sighed as he leaned on the balcony overlooking the lava-lake. Unlike Bodhi, Irenicus had chosen a more conservative solution. He'd taken a smaller room a few floors lower than Bodhi's suite. It was certainly less garish, but could still pass for luxurious accommodations. And, like every room, a huge mirror dominated the room.

A cry of fear sounded from outside, followed briefly by a splash below. It was one of the more expensive local entertainments, one which Bodhi had been addicted to ever since discovering it. Unfortunately for him, it was located only just one floor below his suite.

"Do it again, do it again!" the voice of Bodhi, accompanied by clapping her hands like a little girl.

And, indeed, another slave fell screaming into the lava-pit.

Disgusted with such waste, Irenicus closed the door and stepped back inside. He sat down on one of the velvet chairs and reflected on his earlier meeting with Ardulace. The old First Matron was, well, not really that old, just spent. She had worked her entire life to make the city prosper, but her daughters were riding her success and outperformed her on many levels. Ardulace was to be replaced by one of her daughters soon, and she knew it... As any good priestess of Lolth, she realized that that would one day be her fate, but even though the accumulation of her successes in life assured her of a rightful reward in Lolth's realm after her death, she wanted to be remembered in the world of the living by claiming a huge victory for Ust Natha. Fortunately, Irenicus was there to provide one. A crushing defeat of the surface elves would earn Ardulace her place in history, and that was exactly what Irenicus had offered her.

Somehow, Irenicus was drawn to the mirror on the other side of the room. He found a masked elf staring back at him with baleful eyes. He also noticed that one of the straps of his mask was a bit loose. No doubt it had been damaged when Laska had ripped it off his face back on Spellhold.

It was strangely curious to him how fast the pain had faded. It had been several days since then, and he had been feeling better in his entire body. His joints no longer pained him, and he was feeling less stiff and cumbersome.

For some reason, purely on instinct, he started to remove the straps of his mask. Slowly, ever so slowly, he removed the leather mask and put it down on the table next to the mirror. He had expected to see a tormented face, a damaged face, a deformed face... he had before.

But strangely enough, he was surprised to find a hint of his former self looking back at him. The wounds that had been caused when Laska ripped of the mask were already healing, something which pleasantly surprised him. Old scars were noticeably disappearing.

"Elven regeneration!" Irenicus gasped. One of his cheeks had seemingly completely healed. Almost fearfully, he ran a hand over the smooth cheek... the skin did not peel, like it always did. Instead, it held. Heartened by this, he removed more of the mask, revealing a battered and cut, but otherwise proud elven ear. The cartilage was again sturdy and whole.

Frantically, he started to remove other supporting gear around his wrists, knees and ankles, gear that had held his body together before. He was delighted to no end that he no longer needed these straps in order just to stand.

He took his mask in hand and looked at it. That mask, that had hid and protected his face for longer than two centuries. The mask that had become, in effect, him. "I don't need you anymore," he said while walking to the balcony. "I DON'T NEED YOU ANYMORE!" he shouted and threw the mask away with all his strength. It sailed through the air and finally started its descent down, only to land into the burning lava below.

"I don't need you anymore... oh, crap," he suddenly realized that he was recognizable as a surface-elf in the middle of a Drow city. Quick as a flash, he closed the door and the shade.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Irenicus said and kicked against a table as he realized what a reckless thing he had just down. "I'm dumber than Bodhi!"

"An elf in a Drow city," he said, sitting in the chair. He'd had to escape the city soon, and he had some ideas... But it suddenly hit him : he was an elf again. He hadn't even thought to look after absorbing Laska's spirit, nor to feel... He sat back and closed his eyes. There was a spark at first, but he could feel the earth's embrace once more, a feeling he had lost since the beginning of his torment.

"Elf in a Drow city," he whispered to himself. "What the hell am I doing? Making deals with these devils? Destroying my old home? Stealing the eggs of peaceful dragons?" In a way, the look in the mirror had revealed a part of him he never wanted to see.

He was restored, oh yes, but Irenicus realized that he had stolen his restoration, and that he had condemned an elven sister to the same living hell that he had been condemned to. Somehow, he wished things could have been different.

"No," Irenicus said. "I'm on the right path... The guilty must be punished." But he was no longer convinced of this.

A knock sounded on the door. "Maid-service!" sounded from the other side. Irenicus cursed... he had to hide his elven heritage.

Xare, the young Drow maid, didn't wait for an answer and unlocked the door. She then rode her cart inside. She hated serving others, especially if the other in question were just lowly non-Drow. Still, the pay was good and this guest wasn't as obnoxious as the human male traders she sometimes had to deal with. She smiled as she remembered having a male guest executed after he had hit on her. In Drow society, even the females on the lowest rungs of the social ladder held tremendous power over any males.

"I'm just here to pick up the laundry, replace the towels and," Xare blinked as he noticed the strange male had buried his entire head into a squishy mushroom. Pots with large mushrooms were usually placed in the rooms as decorations.

"Male? What are you doing to that mushroom?"

"I, um, I'm massaging my face. It's, um, good for the complexion..."

Xare blinked. "I recommend a visit to the pleasure chambers for you, and soon, male."

"I prefer the mushroom," sounded from the male.

Xare simply sighed, walked out of the room and locked the door behind her. "Weirdo," she sighed and continued her rounds.