Valas stood just inside his room. A table was set a few feet in against the wall to the right of where he had entered. Valas walked a few steps over and saw that a silver platter had been placed there as well as a bowl. On the platter within a circle of purple satin sat two silver pitchers with matching silver goblets beneath which two keys had been placed, one of wrought silver and a second smaller than the first of blackened iron. Valas ran his fingers over the silver key then looked back toward the closed door. Taking the silver key in hand he walked back toward the door and slid it into the lock. With a smooth motion and soft click the deadbolt slid into place securing the room. Valas placed the key back onto the silk and retrieved the black iron key placing it into his vest pocket. He surveyed the room. A large 4 post bed carved of obsidian dark wood was arranged and set with silken sheets and covers, several pillows sat neatly at the head. Beyond the bed in an opposing corner was a free form pool that steamed with the fog of a natural hot spring. Several stoppered bottles containing scented oils and soaps had been provided on a nearby shelf off the edge of the bath. Valas moved further into the room. At the foot of the bed was a large chest secured by an intricate black lock.

“Well what have we here?” Instinctively reaching for a lock pick Valas knelt in front of it. “Let’s see what kind of locks Matron Freth has commissioned.” The lock was complex, nothing as ordinary as what he had encountered thus far. “No traps….I hope…Time to give it a go.” Valas worked the lock for a few minutes. “Interesting” As Valas picked the lock he could swear he saw glyphs light dimly around the mechanism. “A mechanical lock augmented by magic wards. They really want to keep thieves out.” He smirked as he kept working the lock. “Hmm. Nothing. No movement whatsoever. This is going to take a long time. Time I’m not willing to spend now. I’ll play with you later.”  he thought, not willing to accept defeat. Valas removed the pick from the lock and replaced it with the black key. The tumbler moved easily and several glyphs glowed before fading. The chest lid was heavy but opened smooth on its hinges. “Empty. Well what did you expect?”

Diverting his attention elsewhere around the room he saw there was a comfortable looking cushioned chair near a lamp and book shelf. The room also held a rather large wooden desk carved of the same wood as the bed and chair as well. There was a nicely sized wardrobe cabinet empty except for hangers and containing additional drawer space. Valas walked toward a set back space at the far end of the room. “This will do nicely for my alchemy lab.” Impressed with his accommodations he smiled and thought, “Yes. I think I’ll stay. At least for a while. I wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful to Matron Freth. She did save our lives. Perhaps there is profit to be made here.”

Valas unpacked some clothes and other personal items before placing his bag of holding in the chest. Securing the lock he puts the key into his inside vest pocket. “Time to have a look around.” He thought. Locking the door behind him he followed the corridor back to the stairwell leading down. The hallway was quiet. He followed counterclockwise listening carefully for any sounds of interest. He wondered how his brothers fared and what their thoughts were. He passed the rooms of Quevas, Alaketh and lastly Naris before reaching the stairs. All seemed quiet. All doors closed. Finally reaching the large stairwell heading down he saw that a second stairwell led up. “I’ll explore that later. Right now I’m curious to see what they feed us here.”

The landing poured into marbled floors artistically crafted by skilled designers. There was a wall with a large portrait of Matron Freth done in oil paint facing the stairwell, a tribute to the house’s founder. As Valas walked he took in the sights around him. This level was a flourish of activity. Servants constantly cleaned while officers of the Matron’s company mingled, some engaging in small talk others sipping wine while reading scrolls or ledgers in a seating area. The court extended into an open area where large teak doors stood open. As Valas approached he could smell meats on spits and fresh grain breads. “Trading with the surface had perks” he thought to himself. The feast hall was fairly well attended. Valas walked over to a server who cut some of the meat from a spit. He grabbed some steamed vegetables and a hunk of crusty bread and sat at an empty table facings the door. Growing up in House Vandree under the whip of the priestesses had made him cynical and untrusting. He smelled the plate of food before carefully taking a small taste. “No unusual flavor. Not poisoned.” As he slowly ate he eyed the occupants of the hall. Two beautiful drow women laughed loudly at some inside joke. Valas tried to eavesdrop but the hall was too noisy. There was a company of soldiers sitting at another table sharing a story that was obviously embellished with 3 tables of their brethren. As Valas turned his head away sharp movement caught his eye. He rotated the knife in his hand so the blade lay flat against his wrist and turned toward the incoming uninvited stranger.

“Whoah there friend. Thought we might talk. May I sit?”

“Friend?” Valas scoffed as his eyes narrowed. “Talk about what?”

“Opportunity. My name is Charwyn Uhl’vyr and I have something for you.”

The drow was dressed in silks and leather a single curved blade lay snug against his side. He sat and produced a scroll from his sleeve sliding it toward Valas. My master believes you to have great potential. As such he extends you this incredibly kind offer.” Valas eyed the scroll warily. It was sealed with black wax impressioned with an ancient drow rune.

“Gift” Valas read silently.

“Should you accept this most generous gesture all you need do is follow the instructions contained.” Charwyn stood and bowed. Until we meet again. Aluve.”

Valas looked from Charwyn back to the scroll. When his eyes returned to his unwelcome guest there was nothing. “Gone.”  Valas grabbed the scroll and stepped away from the table leaving his half eaten meal behind. He retreated back to the safety of his room. After making certain he was alone he cracked the seal and opened the scroll.

It read:

‘My Lord of Vandree. Your talents have not gone unnoticed. It is my belief you possess the blessing of our dark mistress. I would offer to train you in her way and teach you to share her gift. Should you wish to heed this call seek me out at the fall of Narbondyl in the tavern of the Dark Embrace.’

Eldrar T’sith the cloaked sword.

“The cloaked sword?” Valas thought. “Why do I know this name?” He paced a few moments staring at the signature on the scroll. “No. Not name. Sigil. The mark of Zinzerena, drow goddess of assassins.” He placed the scroll on his desk and sat in the nearby chair. “Assassin….yes. I will learn this power that I may repay those who have treated me cruel with the death they so desperately deserve.” He leaned back and smiled. “Indeed I shall be staying here for a while.”