Tav and Nyx POVs. Opening the chapter with Tav POV.

"Araj Oblodra, trader in blood and student of the sanguineous arts. It is a pleasure to stand before a True Soul." Tav could practically hear Gale's ears perk up and Araj continued, "I'd like to offer my services, if you're willing?"

Tav queried, "A 'trader in blood'?", spotting the red tinged wares on display.

The drow replied smoothly, "I can create wonderous potions from blood; each as unique as the person it was borne from."

"Ah, blood alchemy.", Gale surmised and frowned.

"A crude term for what I do," she regarded him coolly. She held up a finger and addressed Tav, "Only a vial of True Soul blood. One drop of your blood essence mixed with the Absolute's blessing would make for a priceless potion. The rest I'll keep for myself."

I'd prefer not to encourage any more of the 'Absolute's blessings', Tav thought back on Gerringothe and commiseration panged in her chest.

"Risky business.", Gale remarked stroking his beard, "I think I'll pass on the potential side effects of corruption and madness, thank you. Not to mention the potential for indentured servitude, especially if you’re going to keep so much of it."

Tav didn't intend on giving her blood away, even more so now and she politely declined the offer as well.

"I cannot say that I'm not disappointed, however", Araj's eyes settled on Astarion who unsurprisingly sidled next to Tav. Araj maintained her nonchalant demeanour, but the straining in her jaw gave her eagerness away. She turned to Tav again, "Perhaps we could discuss you pale friend?"

Nyx crossed her arms while she stood on the other side of Astarion, and Astarion tilted his head at Araj.

Araj continued, "He's a vampire, no? Or one of their spawns, at least."

Astarion recovered quickly from his brief shock and lulled, "Don't worry, we are all friends under the Absolute. I won't bite."

Araj clearly wasn't interested in reassurances, "Oh I'd prefer if you did."

Nyx's frown matched Astarion's, along with their collective confusion. Araj pointedly said onto Tav, "I assume he belongs to you."

"Excuse me?", Tav blurted.

Astarion's lip quivered, but he suppressed the snarl. Both Nyx and Gale didn't appreciate the comment either.

Tav laughed, "I'm certainly not his keeper and he certainly does whatever he wants."

Araj sneered, "I'm sure he really believes that. How utterly adorable.", and ignored Tav turning to Astarion, "Do you have a name, spawn?"

He flustered, "Astarion, but hold on.", he leaned backwards and raised his hands defensively.

Araj ignored his protesting and spoke over him, "Good. Now, Astarion. I've dreamt of being bitten by a vampire since I was a young girl."

He made a sound of disbelief, his expression became incredulous, and he enunciated slowly with a pointing finger, "I'm sorry? You want to be bitten?"

Confusion deepened on Nyx's face too, however she was silently watching Astarion's reactions.

Araj's disturbing fantasies continued, "To feel your life's blood slipping away? To dance on the edge between life and death? Yes, I want it.", she came out of her reverie and offered sweetly, "I'd even compensate you - a potion of legendary power that forever increases the strength of the one who consumes it. It's not for sale, but it's yours if you bite me."

The last words hardly left Araj's mouth when Astarion promptly replied, "I will have to decline."

Subtle relief settled over Nyx, but Tav couldn't discern the reason, since Nyx had defaulted to her dark calm demeanour.

It was Araj's turn at disbelief, "Excuse me? This is a once in-a-lifetime opportunity and you're squandering it."

Astarion stood firm and huffed, "I gave you my answer."

Araj scowled and appealed to Tav, "Can't you talk some sense into your obstinate charge?"

Nyx intervened before Tav could answer, Clearly her patience has its limits too.

--- --- ---

Nyx tried to keep the disdain from her voice, "Neither he, nor anyone here is property to be ordered around at your beck and call. It seems the drow, whether below or above ground, find that a bizarre concept to comprehend."

Nyx truly disliked drow who believed it their superior birthright to behave as though everyone else was under their despotic rule, even outside of the Underdark cities.

Araj glared at Nyx then pointedly looked her up and down, "And it seems, half-sister, that someone had been lax in your discipline. Do you always address your better kin so reproachfully? You should be reminded of proper manners."

Nyx laughed bitterly, "You don't know of what you speak, no-sister-of-mine, and I pity more than I dislike 'my betters'. I do, hope for your sake, that your knives are as quick as your threats. Mine tend to have lethal follow-through."

Araj rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand at Nyx, "You bore me dobluth elg'caress."

Nyx shrugged unperturbed and mused, "Asanque, Quarvalsharess zhah l'er'griff uss ssinssrickla", earning a vicious scowl from Araj.

Not much of an Absolute devotee after all?

Astarion gave Nyx a curious glance over his shoulder. Her lips quirked into smirk, and she gave him a wink, receiving a wicked grin in return.

Araj announced in general, "I believe our business in concluded," and she chewed the words, "True Souls."

Astarion gracefully swivelled on his heel and sauntered off. Nyx followed him to the adjacent room. He hovered over a nearby table, and she gave him a warm smile, "You alright?"

"Hm?", as though he only noticed her then, "Oh, uh. Yes, my sweet." His return smile remained distant. He sighed and turned to her with a dramatic sway of his body then grinned slyly, "What did you say to her exactly?"

Another smirk tugged at Nyx's lips, "I was being spitefully blasphemous about the Spider Queen."

His pitched laugh escaped him, and his eyes shone with delight, "How delicious."

She snorted and quipped, "Araj didn't seem to think so."

"Ugh," he cringed in disgust and leaned over to her in a near conspiratorial way, "There is something deeply wrong about her blood." His whole face pinched and he curled his lip, "It's rank. Unnatural."

And if her blood weren't rank?

He composed himself and notified her, "Besides, I'm not being traded for some potion."

Pride and affection swelled in her chest, and she nodded, "As it should be."

A lopsided grin, almost sheepish in nature, slipped onto his face, but his response was cut short. His fingers moved to his temple. Nyx felt the call too, but it wasn't any of their companions'.

"My sweet, we're being summoned."

"Ah," she motioned past him, and he snatched her around the waist before they continued to the assembly hall. Stealing a quick kiss, muffling her surprised murmur that became a smiling hum.

I don't mind being ambushed by kisses.

The ambush was over far too quickly.

---

Nyx was mentally snickering at the tall non-pleated toques of the cult Adepts.

Their faces are too serious to be wearing those silly hats.

Tav's group waited, along with several new initiates, in the assembly hall beyond the large, decorated doors in the foyer.

Clusters of drow, some gnomes and a handful of goblins were either seated or standing around. Two curving staircases flanked an ominous spiky metal throne. Nyx could spot more support beams above the room, including some curious onlookers from the rafters. The staircases lead to an elevated floor behind the throne and another singular staircase rose above the throne and ascended to the upper levels. Tapestries and carpets sporting the Absolute's insignia decorated the walls and floors, respectively.

One of the Adepts announced Disciple Z'rell, and she appeared from the door on the left marching to the stage. She stood to the left of the throne and called for silence while General Ketheric Thorm 'graced' them with his presence and oversight during the proceedings. He settled himself on the throne.

Nyx rolled her eyes, Pomp and ceremony: the lifeblood of cults.

All of the initiates, except for their group, where practically hanging from Z'rell and Ketheric's lips. Nyx zoned out during the incessant droning between the two. Astarion cleared his throat next to her and she peered at him with amused suspicion.

Nyx had to keep her laughter in check; clamping her hand over her mouth while Astarion proceeded to pucker at her in a myriad of different ways. It was as impressive as it was hilarious. A collective glower was her reward for choking on a laugh, delivered by nearby Adepts and initiates alike. Astarion was tremendously pleased with outcome of his efforts.

Bloody Astarion, getting me into trouble.

Not to mention the stupid blush creeping onto her ears. Nyx decided it safer to not look at him for the remainder of the droning. Only glimpsing a pout from the corner of her eye. Paying more attention to the rising tension between one of the goblin groups and Z'rell's reprimands.

The goblin leader was stammering excuses for the 'spectacular' failings at Moonhaven's temple and their inability to 'handle a few druids'. Tav and the others shared knowing glances among themselves. The goblin leader accused Minthara of being a poor commander and laid all the blame at her feet.

Convenient when the scapegoat is dead.

Neither Z'rell, not Ketheric were impressed either. The goblin leader pointed at Tav, and Nyx held her breath, Shit. Did these ones escape?

"You were there! You saw our loyalty to the Absolute! Tell 'im!"

Psionic energy lashed from Z'rell as she demanded, "Enough!"

Nyx's mental defences reflexively snapped into place, deflecting much of the command for obedience.

It felt strangely similar to the gagged mask's. The others cringed against the onslaught.

Z'rell is no pushover, Nyx observed.

Z'rell continued, "There will be order," she pointedly looked to Tav, "Is what they claim true? Speak."

Tav remained steadfast and made a neutral statement, "I saw the horrors they committed in the Absolute's name.", smoothing over the interaction. Relief was palatable between Tav's companions.

Ketheric replied uninterested, "I'm sure they were very enthusiastic. But zeal without efficacy is for children. Not servants."

Z'rell declared glaring at the goblins, "You failed to retrieve the artefact. You failed to protect your True Soul."

Ketheric seemed to come to a conclusion, "We are too close to the ending - and the new beginning. I can coddle inadequacies no longer." He said dismissively onto Z'rell, "Kill them."

Wow, that went downhill quickly.

Tav's group moved closer to each other, tensely waiting to draw weapons if needed. Tav was keenly focused on the developing situation, holding her hand in a subtle gesture for the rest of them to stand down.

The goblin leader blurted, "What? No!", and another shouted spitting, "You creaking old bag of shit!"

Nyx's eyebrows barely reached her hairline when the cussing goblin seized a nearby guards' great axe and bodily hurled it at Ketheric.

Stunned, the collective silence of the gathering simply, stared.

Ketheric was blooded, apparently dead and pinned to the back of the throne. The goblins were sniggering, congratulating the strength of the one who threw the axe. The axe was lodged into Ketheric's body; the blade sunken halfway down into his chest. Nyx's magic hackles were on ends when Ketheric's eyes fluttered open.

A collective gasp filled the room while Ketheric rose to his feet, completely disregarding the weapon protruding from his chest. He strolled toward the goblins and Z'rell sputtered apologies, unfazed by the development, "I'm so sorry, my lord. She's an unbeliever - outside of my control."

Ketheric waved a silencing hand and Z'rell stilled. He loomed over the goblin, who gaped up at him. He unceremoniously ripped the axe from his chest and handed it back to her, "Try again."

Nyx's heart was in her throat while she watched the fatal chest wound mend rapidly of its own accord. The goblin eagerly swung at Ketheric again, another gasp accompanied the landing blow that nearly severed his head from his shoulders.

By the Abyss! Surely, my eyes are playing tricks!

Ketheric remained standing, literally shrugging off yet another moral wound as though it were nothing,..

Just as Jaheira recounted.

He plucked the axe from his neck and discarded it to the floor. He fisted his hands above his head and smote the trembling goblin with a crushing blow to her skull. She crumpled lifeless to the ground. He regarded the body, then turned his attention to the other quivering goblins. Ketheric made a small gesture indicative of a somatic spell and green summoning magic swirled next to him. An undead skeleton dog reanimated from once separated bones, and it fixed its glowing green gaze on the goblins.

"Have mercy General!", they cowered.

Ketheric said curtly, "Squire."

The large mastiff set upon the goblins tearing them to shreds in a flurry of shrieks and cries. Those who ran didn't get far. Chairs creaked and shattered as it caught up with them. It finished them off in a brief tussle - uncomfortably close to Nyx's position. Her hands were on her knives and her magic primed.

Good graces. Was that truly necessary?

Nyx had her hand on her chest letting out a long steadying breath, watching with reservation as the blood pooled between the chairs, its metallic scent drifted through the air. Ketheric and Squire saw themselves out without another word, while Z'rell gestured to several of the Adepts. Subsequently, servants were organized to clean up the mess.

"Are you alright, my sweet?"

She found concern wrinkling the corners of his eyes. He could likely hear her heart racing, especially considering how it thundered in her own ears.

She patted her chest and sighed, "Savage, but then again", she paused looking back at the spreading blood, "What else did I expect?", and quipped, "Civility?"

He grinned, "Well, he definitely made a first impression."

Nyx deadpanned, "I suppose an immortal throw-down tends to do that."

Astarion and several of the others chuckled, lightening the mood in their group.

Z'rell made her rounds through the room giving orders and assigning missions to the various assemblies. Tav and the others waited patiently for 'their turn.'

--- --- ---

Tav wondered whether it was her lack of exposure, or whether Z'rell really was short for a half-orc. Z'rell walked over and carried herself with purpose as though she were only second to Ketheric. She stopped short in front of Tav. An appraising look picked her apart and Z'rell made sure to stand a little too close, gauging Tav's response to the encroachment.

Tav crossed her arms and gave her a raised eyebrow.

Z'rell seemed to approve of the standoff that commenced and stated, "True Soul, I have a particular mission in mind for you and your friends". The half-orc made piercing eye contact with each of Tav's companions - lingering on Nyx. Tav expected Nyx's melt-flesh-from-bone stare to challenge Z'rell, instead Nyx kept eye contact, but her expression glazed over as though Z'rell wasn't even worth of the effort.

The Disciple addressed Tav again, "But first, I need to confirm something."

Before Tav could voice her query, Z'rell entered her mind abruptly.

Tav's tadpole squirmed vigorously and a forceful search of Tav's memories began. Rigidity locked Tav's limbs and her mind reeled under the psychic strain. Z'rell simply entered wherever she pleased and explored whatever she wanted. Retching sickness gripped Tav's stomach as Z'rell's invasion stirred up the cold beckoning of icy shadows, and the fear it craved to extract from her. Tav hid, shamefully, in the corner of her mind - she can't remember what happened during that attack, but she felt the overpowering fear of the curse again. It seeped into her being; cold, callous and cruel.

Something lightly brushed against her magic. Warm, supporting hands reached out to her mentally. It was Gale. He helped her up, and gently pulled a curtain between Tav and Z'rell; just enough for Tav to find her footing again while she wrestled down the sickening fear. She pulled herself together, his presence welcome and reassuring. Gale's magic receded, but only after a soft embrace, leaving her with newfound determination.

Tav subtly reached for her own magic, strumming protective layers between her and Z'rell, building on the curtain Gale had weaved. Tav watched Z'rell stomping about her memories from the safety of Gale's curtain. Z'rell had no nuance in her approach and her motivations were laid bare for Tav to glean - the tadpole's connection worked both ways. Tav called on fictitious distractions and lovely lies; harmonies she could play well.

Leaving a trail, Tav fed Z'rell melodious crumbs at first, seeing which enticed her the most. Then she'd strum larger deceptions around those. Leading Z'rell away from Tav's actual memories, like the Pied Piper, towards the lie that Z'rell hoped to find: That Tav was deeply devoted to the Absolute. Z'rell's mind tremored with ecstasy when she found a mirror to her own desires.

Tav was finally released, and had to use all her will not to have her legs quiver.

Z'rell's resulting smile bordered on affection, "Perfect. You crave what all True Souls should - to be touched by the Absolute.", and she tried to tempt them even more by boasting, "I have already been blessed to stand in Her presence. It was bliss. She gave me everything I wanted."

Tav leaned on that, "Everything? What exactly did you want?"

Greedy lust passed behind Z'rell's eyes when she replied, "To take without asking, to feel without doubting, and to kill without consequence... In a word - freedom."

Remnants of the sickness churned in Tav's stomach, but she focused on testing her assumptions about the Disciple, "Freedom? Your only purpose is to serve Ketheric and the Absolute."

Z'rell didn't appreciate the remark and countered, "I choose to serve, and I am glad to. True Soul."

Easy now, Tav.

Tav smoothed over her previous statement by holding up the mirror once more, "I, too, am here to serve."

"I expect no less." The affection returned, "The reward for your service is to retrieve the relic General Thorm requires."

Z'rell elaborated on the details. Informing them that another Disciple, Balthazar, had already been sent to the Thorm family mausoleum to locate the relic in the ruins beneath. Tav and her team were to re-establish contact and assist Balthazar.

Tav listened intently, but not for the reasons Z'rell thought, and she queried, "What exactly is this relic?"

A brief flash of trepidation touched the Disciple's features and Z'rell chewed her lip.

Taking a calculated risk, Tav added silkily, "It must be very important to the cause. I want to make sure I bring it back. To earn my keep."

Z'rell grinned, looking away she said in awe, "It must hold immense power. Ketheric won't leave Moonrise without it.", then she added remembering herself, "You will need protection, the shadows around the Mausoleum are deep and hungry. There are Moonlanterns in Balthazar's chambers, but don't touch anything else." Her grin became malicious, "The last to do so lost their head and I believe he uses it as a chamber pot." Disciple Z'rell turned heel, effectively dismissing them and marched off toward the staircase behind the throne.

Gale let out a breath next to her, "That was quite the sleight of tongue. I'm glad you do all the talking," and he glanced at her mischievously, lowering his voice, "Even if I'm marvellously talented at using mine."

Astarion scoffed in disgust from the back of the group.

--- --- ---

Operation RIP was underway. Nyx had to give it to Tav, Shadowheart, Gale and Wyll's plans. Even Astarion's grin was akin to Karlach's while listening to them.

Nyx, Astarion, Wyll and Karlach were on team 'Subterfuge', whereas Tav, Gale, Shadowheart and Lae'zel were on team 'Jailbreak'. Their respective goals being, distracting the cultists in the tower and drawing the guards away from the prison cells below; then busting out the captured tieflings (now including Ironhand gnomes from Grymmforge) and escaping on a boat moored at the backend of the prison. Lastly, they were to regroup at Last Light Inn.

Gale handed out Disguise Self scrolls to team Subterfuge. Astarion didn't need it, but he stashed the proffered one, nonetheless. Nyx studied the incantation.

Karlach scrunched her nose and gestured towards Gale holding the parchment, "I'm going to need help with this."

Wyll took the paper from her hand and offered smiling, "I'll cast it on you."

"Aces. Cheers mate."

Team Subterfuge discussed tactics.

Astarion flashed a fanged grin and lilted, "I can't think of anything more delectable than a lot of Harpers running amok."

Nyx snickered and Karlach guffawed.

Wyll nodded sagely and pointed at Astarion impressed, "Now, that is inspired."

"I know, darling."

---

They were waiting for the official signal from team Jailbreak. In the meantime, Nyx and Astarion were ascending the stairs in search of Moonlaterns, after which they were to 'run amok' the top floors. Wyll and Karlach covering the lower floors.

Nyx's impatience grew as they neared Balthazar's room. She wanted to get her hands on Astarion, otherwise she was going to strangle him for being so irresistibly coquettish. His deft hands were even more distracting while they made quick work of the locks, He insisted on not asking for the key.

He straightened and their eyes met. A knowing smirk split his lips.

Oh, I am going to strangle you.

"Something the matter, my sweet?", he purred.

Not for much longer.

She crossed her arms, rallied her self-restraint and stated, "You can pretend all you like. You are well aware of the effect you have on me."

"I do," he borrowed her even tone and took a step closer, "Is there something in particular affecting you?"

She gave him a flat look, then closed the rest of the distance. She reached up slowly, tracing his lips with a forefinger. His pupils dilated slightly, and his jaw slackened. Her finger proceeded to trace his bottom teeth, her eyes watching the motion, then she hooked her finger over them. He bit down on her finger while she drew his lips to hers. Fortunately, for his sake, he didn't hold back. The kiss was deeply satisfying, he breathed her in, pressing himself into her.

They enjoyed each other languidly. His one hand rested on the side of her neck, feeling her pulse while his fangs nipped at the other. The fingers of his free hand slid beneath her collar, pulling it down to expose more of her neck. His fangs appreciated her skin.

Her hands were in his hair, caressing his ears. She hissed, taking in a sharp breath when he dug his teeth into her collarbone with more force than usual. It didn't draw blood, but that is going to leave mark. He lapped at her there; somewhat apologetically yet relishing the flush under her skin. She guided his face back to hers and captured his mouth, her rising smoulder wanted to consume him. An appreciative noise hummed at the back of his throat.

He pulled away and hazily said onto her, "I quite like that, you know."

She blushed, and gave him a parting peck. Tearing herself away before her self-restraint dried up completely.

That smug look snapped into place, and he opened the door, "After you, R'hunni'vah."

She inclined her head smiling, "Bellinor."

---

Nyx dragged her mind kicking and screaming away from dirty thoughts about Astarion and back to the task at hand. She stepped over a ward lining the doorway and the resulting scenery snapped her mind out of it entirely.

"Ugh, necromancers", Astarion looked over the room with distaste.

True to form, the room was an unsettling combination of a torture chamber, library and sleeping quarters. Death and decay clung to the air. There were strange and creepy tools, snares and devices scattered around. Rusted chains decorated with old black blood hung from the walls and ceiling.

Nyx stifled a cold shiver trying not to think too hard on what some of the unidentifiable globs on the floor were, giving them a wide berth instead. She thoroughly probed everything and anything in Balthazar's room before even breathing on it, let alone touching it. Astarion had no such qualms, riffling through shelves and chests. Nyx eyed a large and well-maintained cabinet.

A cautionary peek inside one of the drawers revealed four pendants and a bunch of discarded notes. She picked up the papers and sorted them in what seemed to be the correct order. It was research notes, but they read like a morbid diary:

'The dissection of pixies has rendered their magic useless. Dismemberment and the immediate preservation of the limbs was more promising; however, the resulting protection was limited to one person. Useful prototypes only.

I've given Kressa designs to a cage that could potentially house the annoying glowing blowflies. It requires testing to determine whether it will keep them alive. Should this hypothesis be proven valid; the protection should extend beyond the carrier.

[A diagram depicting a literal lantern. Caption read Pixie Moonlantern]

Note: install a drain beneath library's 'Conventional Medicine' shelf. It's wasteful to let all that blood seep through the flagstones, and it will rust the spikes besides.

Disregard. The smell gives me sweet dreams.'

Nyx collected the pendants. They were pleasant to look at. Simple, round discs with delicate leaf filigree around a central glowing white gem.

One wouldn't think these contained the severed remains of pyxies.

She wrestled with her reservations, but ultimately decided to put them to good use and, in a way, free them from this disturbing place.

Crackling noises drew her attention to Astarion, and she quipped, "Please don't turn us into the next set of privy vessels."

"Ha! That would be the atrocity of the ages, especially with this hair.", he ran a hand through his white curls.

Nyx rolled her eyes grinning, Oh, don't mind me.

He sighed dramatically and continued, "There is nothing here but disgusting necromancer junk, not to mention an unhealthy viscera obsession and too many bone fetishes. I'm surprised there isn't a set table seated with rotting corpses discussing the meaning of life over tea."

Nyx chocked on the image he painted in her head, Dear graces and she laughed in exasperation at the absurdity of it all.

She cringed at the scene in her head, shook herself out, and found him grinning. She held out one of the pendants, "Not entirely empty handed." He sauntered over and inspected the pendant. She provided, "First Moonlantern equivalents, restricted to personal use."

Her tadpole wriggled in a familiar way, and his fingers reached for his temple.

"Let's go find some trouble.", he took the pendant from her, and she followed him out of the necromancer's chamber to another room tucked away from prying eyes and potential eavesdroppers.

He gave her a lopsided grin once inside. She closed the door. He recited, placing a lazy hand to his chest, "Omnia mutatio."

Magic shimmered around him and since Nyx witnessed him applying the spell, she was able to see past it at will.

She appraised the new look with a finger to her lips.

"What do you think, my sweet?", giving her a twirl. A handsome, tanned, dark haired Harper with striking green eyes stood before her.

She remarked, "Hmm, not bad."

He scoffed, "Not bad? My dear, this is art," he gestured to himself.

Nyx suppressed a smile and said evenly, "I still prefer, your original art."

He replied with a fanged grin and a wave of his hand, "Do go on."

She would like to, but she had other plans for him.

A slow mischievous grin spread on her lips and his interest piqued. She reached into her pack and retrieved her bow, nocking it with an arrow. He frowned at her, and she stated, "I'm going to count to five. Then raise the alarm."

His posture became awash with predatory challenge, leaning forward, rubies shining with delight. She counted backwards from five; his wicked grin widening with every number. He darted through the door in a blur, and she followed, catching a glimpse of him stepping into shadow.

Ready or not.

Her lungs filled and she bellowed, "INTRUDERS! Harpers in the tower!"

Shortly after, more calls echoed through the hallways and chairs scrapped on the floors. There were sounds of weapons being drawn and doors opening. A grin accompanied her own predatory stalking as she continued down the corridor searching the shadows.

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Footnote:

Drowic Dictionary:

dobluth: outcast

elg'caress: derogatory term directed at a female

Asanque, Quarvalsharess zhah l'er'griff uss ssinssrickla: Likewise, Lolth is the only one giggling.
Such that Nyx implies it only amuses Lolth that they are insulting each other. Also it's an official blasphemous jest, because 'Lolth doesn't giggle' I suppose...

Latin incantation:

Omnia mutatio: Change it all

Some throwback at the end of the chapter to one my favourite lines from Act I. Eagle Momma: "INTRUDERS! In MY nest!?"