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Description
Shivers racked her form as she move to clean the campsite, packing up the assorted bed rolls, pans, and miscellaneous items that had been scattered across the snow. It was too damn cold here, she decided, pulling her fur-lined cloak closer to her form. Not only that, but her husband had been gone for over an hour now, when she knew full and well that Hilltop was only ten minutes away.

He wasn't in trouble, she knew. Well, not him personally. With their luck, he'd managed to encounter a storm of fire, an army of raging gibberlings, or some other nuisance. Gods, and to think she'd thought she'd placed most of this behind them when they'd left Amn, Amkethran, Saradush, and all those places, three years before.

More likely he'd encountered some problem, and had run off to vanquish evil, or some other paladin-esque issue. No matter, she'd go and find him.

A rumble came from the drow's stomach, causing her to scowl as she tread across the snow. She was hungry too, and Gabe probably hadn't had a chance to get some supplies. Damn it all…

A flash of movement caught her eye, and she immediately withdrew her dagger, standing stone still in the wasteland. But it was only a stag, one of the few living creatures that cared to be out during the harsh winter.

She paused for a moment, looking from her dagger to the creature. Even if she managed to catch the deer, her knife was poisoned, and would spoil the meat. Damn it.

The next churn of her stomach was overpowered by the sound of footsteps. A pack of gnolls ran for dear life, shouting and cursing in their assorted barks. She was hardly fluent, but she knew panicked screaming when she heard it. A warrior rushed down the road, waving a huge two-handed sword, cursing in a language she was quite fluent in, and shouting all sorts of anatomically impossible threats. A kobold following swiftly behind, singing some terrible song about the warrior's exploits, while a young drow male raced to keep up, and a young blonde human lagged behind, shouting at the prior three to slow down, in the name of Mystra.

Lyme blinked at the scene, unable to stop herself from voicing, "What the hell was that?"

But her attention was soon distracted from the scene, as she caught sight of another rarity treading over the landscape: three warriors, all drow, all male. She could hear faint whispers of their conversation, something about bringing another male back to the matron, and how she'd reward them handsomely once she had flayed the boy alive.

The image of that running boy flashed into her mind, leading a scowl to cross her face. If there was one thing she hated about the Underdark, it was how the residents were so unwilling to allow their people to roam free on the surface. Normally, she never acted without incentive (Gold, boredom, Gabe's guilt-tripping, etc.) but in this case, her atrophied conscious had been ressurected.

"Halt, males!" She called out in her best drow-bitch voice. "You will stop following that male, immediately."

They paused for a moment, before their leader narrowed his eyes. "We have orders from Matron Brizyl to capture him. Stand aside."

Her green eyes flashed bright with anger. "Do not presume to speak to me about orders!"

One quick motion, and her left arm was bared, showing off the tattoo on her bicep. "I trust you know better than to disobey *me*?"

"N-No, mistress." The leader stammered, his eyes wide at the sight of the electric blue skull that marked her arm. Everyone within a hundred miles of Ust Natha knew of her order, and what powerful assassins they were. If they had business with anyone, the matrons knew to stay away. "We shall leave. Immediately."

"Get out of my sight."

A smile crossed her face once they left. It wouldn't take them long to figure out that she had lied, but it would buy the boy some time at least. In truth, that damned tattoo had caused her a good deal of trouble over the past few years, and would continue to do so. But every so often, it could be quite beneficial to her.

At the same time, another drow female tread across the snowy paths leading to Hilltop. She was tall for her race, standing at just two inches south of six feet. Her powerful legs stepped over the sleet and ice with ease, but the little girl next to her was not so lucky.

"Ow!" She cried out as she tripped over the ice, falling back in a pile of furs and frost-proof clothes. "Sol! Sol, I can't get up!"

"Yes you can." The drow replied in her monotonous voice, pausing to look down the girl, who was rolling left and right like a pill bug flipped onto its back. "Push yourself."

The girl finally sat up, and huffed, sending a scowl at the woman. "It's cold."

"It is indeed." The warrior agreed, stooping to wipe a bit of snow off the girl's nose. "Daeghun warned you it would be, Kylee."

"I know, but I didn't know it would be *this* cold." She informed her caretaker, taking the drow's hand for support, then continuing on. "Why couldn't we come back in the spring?"

"It wouldn't matter much." The drow shrugged, the motion nearly lifting the little girl into the air. "The silver marches are always frigid, no matter what time of year."

"Oh." Kylee frowned. "Well, maybe next time we can just stay in Sigil?"

"Daeghun needs his herbs. Visiting Sigil was just a quick way to get to Hilltop." The ghost of a smile appeared on the serious warrior's lips. "Besides, you wanted to come with me."

"I know." The seven-year-old huffed again. "I just didn't think--"

She came to a halt in her speech, catching sight of several scaly figures nearby. Sol recognized the kobolds immediately, and while they were no match for her, she didn't want one of them sticking their small blades into the girl's side.

"Kylee, stay behind me, and close your eyes." She commanded in a calm, low voice, her eyes never once leaving the creatures.

One of them was stupid enough to charge her, but she had prepared for this, quickly snatching up the creature by his head, and squeezing down. A shriek escaped him as her hand dug deep into his skull, bone shards cracking beneath her skin, until her fingers sank into his brain. It was a bloody, gorey mess, one that she normally would not have resorted to. But she did not wish to fight, for that would put Kylee in danger.

The kobolds stared at the sight of their companion's smashed head, and turned to stare at the drow.

Solafae narrowed her crimson eyes in turn, and held up her bloodied hand, as if to warn them that they would be next.

The message stuck, and they scurried away, far too frightened to take on the warrior.

Wiping her hand in the snow, the drow motioned for Kylee to look away, then led her towards the town.

"Open your eyes."

The girl obeyed, and blinked up at Sol, biting her lip. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." That same wisp of a smile appeared. "I'm concerned, though. Kobolds don't usually walk so close to towns."

"Oh…" Kylee looked down for a moment, then stared up at her protecter, her gaze wide. "Are we in trouble?"

"No." Sol shook her head. "This is nothing to worry about."

An hour would pass before Lyme would pass the same way, covered in so much ice and sleet, should would have looked like a big, round snowman…if not for the menace in her green eyes. Bears, gnolls, kobolds, trolls—TROLLS. She hated trolls!—and all sorts of nasty woodland creatures, delaying her journey, delaying her from a few morsels of food!

"Out of my way!" She snarled, shoving aside the blonde girl from before, then marching into town, one of her knees occasionally snapping out to deliver a stinging kick to a nearby kobold.

She hardly cared that she had forgotten to pull up her hood, and hide her heritage, or that the girl behind her was crying out about other drow coming to the surface. All she cared about was a snack. A quick, good snack, before she looked for her husband. Where the hell was he?!

"This place is worse than the Aunuroch." She muttered, citing her location over the previous three weeks. For a woman used to shadows and cloaked dealings, the exposed, bright sun and the open desert was a hell unparalled by the usual devilish torments. It was good to be on the other side of those mountains, away from the blazing ball of fire that provided so much light and heat for the damn surfacers.

Another kobold made its way towards her, and she stopped, surveying it for a long moment. The creature was a fat little bastard. Not too gamey, just enough meat in the right areas…

But before she could snatch up the creature, he was cleaved in half by a nearby guard's axe, and Lyme couldn't help a growl of frustration, as her stomach protested…again.

But a sight of relief escaped her, when a wooden sign emblazoned with a mug of ale came into view. Finally, a tavern…

Not a moment passed after she stepped inside that Solafae and Kylee appeared outside the door, Lyme's cries of, "What the hell do you mean the cook's been taken hostage?!" greeting them as they stepped inside.

"What's wrong with Aunt Lyme?" Kylee asked, cocking her head as she watched the drow unsheath her daggers, intent on barging through the makeshift barrier of crates and chairs, then throwing the five kobolds into the nearest pot of boiling water.

"So many things." Sol replied in a dry voice, walking over, then laying a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Let me handle this, Lyme."

"But I--"

"You are going to get the cook killed if you behave like this." Sol interrupted bluntly. "And then where will you be?"

The assassin paused, then lowered her dagger, her arm hanging limp at her side.

The matter was settled in minutes, Solafae easily intimidating the kobolds into realeasing the cook, but not before the mob was persuaded to let them leave.

"I would have just killed them." Lyme muttered crankily, settling down into one of the wooden chairs.

"And where would the cook be after that?"

"Who cares? The tavern's shut down for now." Lyme muttered, eyeing some of the patrons. That hafling was beginning to look tasty…

"Hi, Aunt Lyme." Kylee greeted with a smile, climbing right onto her lap and giving her a hug.

Lyme smiled wryly down at the girl. "Hello, Kylee."

"Sol got me a book." She informed her aunt, fishing into her little pack and pulling out a book of fairytales. "She wanted me to get a book about swords and taking care of them and stuff, but that's boring. So I got this one. There's a knight in it, you know. And a dragon. Did you and Uncle Gabe fight dragons."

"Oh, on occasion." The shadow dancer remarked absently, eyeing a nearby dog with a little too much interest.

"Wow…" Kylee breathed, staring up at her aunt, before smiling widely. "The knight in the story is nice, but his armor is too shiny. Uncle Gabe is too shiny sometimes too. I bet he attracts moths and flies late at night."

"I take it you won't be looking for a knight in shining armor?" Lyme chuckled despite herself, as she had wanted nothing of the sort, yet ended up in love and married to a virtuous paladin.

"Nope. I'd rather marry a dashing rogue. But not until I'm really old. Like thirty, or something. Not as old as Sol though. She's like…six hundred. That's old. Really old. Even for a drow. How old are you, Aunt Lyme?"

"Much younger."

"You look like you're maybe twenty-three. That's old."

The shadow dancer made a face. "Is not."

"Is too! I'm seven, and that's pretty old, so you must be ancient!" Kylee declared, causing a frown to form on Lyme's face.

"Look, for a drow, one hundred and sixty years of age is not--"

"Do you want a cookie?" The little girl interrupted, taking a bag of chocolate-chip treats out of her pack, and fishing one out for Lyme. "I made them myself. Well…Tara's mom helped."

"More than anything." The shadow dancer whispered, snatching the treat right up and gobbling it down.

Quite pleased with herself, the little girl grabbed the bag of cookies and hopped about the tavern, offering them to various guests, including the tall warrior Lyme had seen earlier. "My sister Sol, has a huge sword like that, Miss. It's really heavy. I can't pick it up. I'm gonna use a flail one day though. That's what most clerics of Sune use, you know. I think I'll be good with it, because one time Wyl Mossfield was being mean to my friend, Bevil, while we were fishing, and I started hitting him with my rod, and it had a fish on the end, so he was really slimy afterwards. I think I could do the same with a flail, but with blood. Do you know anything about flails…?"

Lyme chuckled at the warrior's expression towards the talkative child, before turning back to Sol. "She seems well. Talkative as usual."

"Nothing much has changed." Sol actually chuckled at the quip.

The shadow dancer leaned back in her chair, watching as Sol unsheathed the giant blade she kept strapped to her back, and ran a whetstone over the edge. "That male hasn't stopped looking at us since we stepped in."

"The drow one?" Sol shrugged, running a callused finger along the edge of her blade. "Probably anxious. Look at him. He's small, handsome, and he's run away to the surface. He was probably a vith rothe in the Underdark."

"True." Lyme agreed, propping her elbow on the table, and resting her chin on the heel of her hand. "What brings you here, anyway?"

"The herbalist has something in store for Daeghun." Sol frowned. "But with this attack, I imagine he used it during the fight, and won't get some in until later."

"So where does that leave you?"

"Willing to help stave off the attacks, at least until the next set of trade caravans arrive." The warrior replied. "And what brings you here?"

"Gabe was in Luskan, and I was in the Aunauroch. We met in Blumberg yesterday, and we're headed for Silverymoon."

"I imagine that's going to be delayed."

"Are you kidding? Raids of evil creatures? Rumors of a dragon? Some evil force pervading all of this? Gabe won't be able to resist." Lyme chuckled, before her smile turned warm, seeing a man in plate mail step through the door, smoothing snow out of his blond hair.

"I'll see you later." She murmured to her siser, before heading for the man, standing up on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his lips.

"Food. Now." Lyme demanded before he could say a word, eliciting a chuckle from him as they stepped outside.

"There's a caravan of gypsies, and a red wizard nearby. One of them is bound to have something." The paladin commented, slipping an arm over her waist as they strode through the town. "Anything exciting happen to you today?"

Lyme grinned up at him. "This may shock you, but I actually did a good deed today."

"Really?" Gabe chuckled. "I'll expect Calimshan to freeze over any day now."

The shadow dancer replied with a roll of her eyes. "What about you? Steal candy from any babies?"

"Only a few, and I always replaced the lollipops with carrots. It's not technically evil…I'm simply encouraging them to improve their dental hygeine."

"Right. Typical excuse, paladin." She smiled to him. "What did you really do today?"

"I helped out with the town's defense, and I heard rumors that a white dragon is behind all of this. I'll have to pay him a visit sometime."

"Huh. A white dragon? And he's responsible for all of this, so as a paladin, you need to bestow justice." She smirked. "You know what that means…you either have to kill him, or sleep with him. Since those seem to be your only two ways of dealing with what you consider wicked in this world."

"I've told you again and again, I've never thought of you as wicked, love. Well, except for those evenings when you invite me to think of you as such." Gabe laughed, and kissed her cheek, his lips warm in contrast to the biting winds. "Tell me about your good deed."

Lyme smiled, and gave his hand a light squeeze as the caravan came into sight. "So you saw that other drow in there, right? It turns out…"

As the couple began to recall their days, dusk began to fall, and the day finally came to an end, leading into a night that was considerably more peaceful than the previous daylight hours.

Description
Shivers racked her form as she move to clean the campsite, packing up the assorted bed rolls, pans, and miscellaneous items that had been scattered across the snow. It was too damn cold here, she decided, pulling her fur-lined cloak closer to her form. Not only that, but her husband had been gone for over an hour now, when she knew full and well that Hilltop was only ten minutes away.

He wasn't in trouble, she knew. Well, not him personally. With their luck, he'd managed to encounter a storm of fire, an army of raging gibberlings, or some other nuisance. Gods, and to think she'd thought she'd placed most of this behind them when they'd left Amn, Amkethran, Saradush, and all those places, three years before.

More likely he'd encountered some problem, and had run off to vanquish evil, or some other paladin-esque issue. No matter, she'd go and find him.

A rumble came from the drow's stomach, causing her to scowl as she tread across the snow. She was hungry too, and Gabe probably hadn't had a chance to get some supplies. Damn it all…

A flash of movement caught her eye, and she immediately withdrew her dagger, standing stone still in the wasteland. But it was only a stag, one of the few living creatures that cared to be out during the harsh winter.

She paused for a moment, looking from her dagger to the creature. Even if she managed to catch the deer, her knife was poisoned, and would spoil the meat. Damn it.

The next churn of her stomach was overpowered by the sound of footsteps. A pack of gnolls ran for dear life, shouting and cursing in their assorted barks. She was hardly fluent, but she knew panicked screaming when she heard it. A warrior rushed down the road, waving a huge two-handed sword, cursing in a language she was quite fluent in, and shouting all sorts of anatomically impossible threats. A kobold following swiftly behind, singing some terrible song about the warrior's exploits, while a young drow male raced to keep up, and a young blonde human lagged behind, shouting at the prior three to slow down, in the name of Mystra.

Lyme blinked at the scene, unable to stop herself from voicing, "What the hell was that?"

But her attention was soon distracted from the scene, as she caught sight of another rarity treading over the landscape: three warriors, all drow, all male. She could hear faint whispers of their conversation, something about bringing another male back to the matron, and how she'd reward them handsomely once she had flayed the boy alive.

The image of that running boy flashed into her mind, leading a scowl to cross her face. If there was one thing she hated about the Underdark, it was how the residents were so unwilling to allow their people to roam free on the surface. Normally, she never acted without incentive (Gold, boredom, Gabe's guilt-tripping, etc.) but in this case, her atrophied conscious had been ressurected.

"Halt, males!" She called out in her best drow-bitch voice. "You will stop following that male, immediately."

They paused for a moment, before their leader narrowed his eyes. "We have orders from Matron Brizyl to capture him. Stand aside."

Her green eyes flashed bright with anger. "Do not presume to speak to me about orders!"

One quick motion, and her left arm was bared, showing off the tattoo on her bicep. "I trust you know better than to disobey *me*?"

"N-No, mistress." The leader stammered, his eyes wide at the sight of the electric blue skull that marked her arm. Everyone within a hundred miles of Ust Natha knew of her order, and what powerful assassins they were. If they had business with anyone, the matrons knew to stay away. "We shall leave. Immediately."

"Get out of my sight."

A smile crossed her face once they left. It wouldn't take them long to figure out that she had lied, but it would buy the boy some time at least. In truth, that damned tattoo had caused her a good deal of trouble over the past few years, and would continue to do so. But every so often, it could be quite beneficial to her.

At the same time, another drow female tread across the snowy paths leading to Hilltop. She was tall for her race, standing at just two inches south of six feet. Her powerful legs stepped over the sleet and ice with ease, but the little girl next to her was not so lucky.

"Ow!" She cried out as she tripped over the ice, falling back in a pile of furs and frost-proof clothes. "Sol! Sol, I can't get up!"

"Yes you can." The drow replied in her monotonous voice, pausing to look down the girl, who was rolling left and right like a pill bug flipped onto its back. "Push yourself."

The girl finally sat up, and huffed, sending a scowl at the woman. "It's cold."

"It is indeed." The warrior agreed, stooping to wipe a bit of snow off the girl's nose. "Daeghun warned you it would be, Kylee."

"I know, but I didn't know it would be *this* cold." She informed her caretaker, taking the drow's hand for support, then continuing on. "Why couldn't we come back in the spring?"

"It wouldn't matter much." The drow shrugged, the motion nearly lifting the little girl into the air. "The silver marches are always frigid, no matter what time of year."

"Oh." Kylee frowned. "Well, maybe next time we can just stay in Sigil?"

"Daeghun needs his herbs. Visiting Sigil was just a quick way to get to Hilltop." The ghost of a smile appeared on the serious warrior's lips. "Besides, you wanted to come with me."

"I know." The seven-year-old huffed again. "I just didn't think--"

She came to a halt in her speech, catching sight of several scaly figures nearby. Sol recognized the kobolds immediately, and while they were no match for her, she didn't want one of them sticking their small blades into the girl's side.

"Kylee, stay behind me, and close your eyes." She commanded in a calm, low voice, her eyes never once leaving the creatures.

One of them was stupid enough to charge her, but she had prepared for this, quickly snatching up the creature by his head, and squeezing down. A shriek escaped him as her hand dug deep into his skull, bone shards cracking beneath her skin, until her fingers sank into his brain. It was a bloody, gorey mess, one that she normally would not have resorted to. But she did not wish to fight, for that would put Kylee in danger.

The kobolds stared at the sight of their companion's smashed head, and turned to stare at the drow.

Solafae narrowed her crimson eyes in turn, and held up her bloodied hand, as if to warn them that they would be next.

The message stuck, and they scurried away, far too frightened to take on the warrior.

Wiping her hand in the snow, the drow motioned for Kylee to look away, then led her towards the town.

"Open your eyes."

The girl obeyed, and blinked up at Sol, biting her lip. "Are you okay?"

"Of course." That same wisp of a smile appeared. "I'm concerned, though. Kobolds don't usually walk so close to towns."

"Oh…" Kylee looked down for a moment, then stared up at her protecter, her gaze wide. "Are we in trouble?"

"No." Sol shook her head. "This is nothing to worry about."

An hour would pass before Lyme would pass the same way, covered in so much ice and sleet, should would have looked like a big, round snowman…if not for the menace in her green eyes. Bears, gnolls, kobolds, trolls—TROLLS. She hated trolls!—and all sorts of nasty woodland creatures, delaying her journey, delaying her from a few morsels of food!

"Out of my way!" She snarled, shoving aside the blonde girl from before, then marching into town, one of her knees occasionally snapping out to deliver a stinging kick to a nearby kobold.

She hardly cared that she had forgotten to pull up her hood, and hide her heritage, or that the girl behind her was crying out about other drow coming to the surface. All she cared about was a snack. A quick, good snack, before she looked for her husband. Where the hell was he?!

"This place is worse than the Aunuroch." She muttered, citing her location over the previous three weeks. For a woman used to shadows and cloaked dealings, the exposed, bright sun and the open desert was a hell unparalled by the usual devilish torments. It was good to be on the other side of those mountains, away from the blazing ball of fire that provided so much light and heat for the damn surfacers.

Another kobold made its way towards her, and she stopped, surveying it for a long moment. The creature was a fat little bastard. Not too gamey, just enough meat in the right areas…

But before she could snatch up the creature, he was cleaved in half by a nearby guard's axe, and Lyme couldn't help a growl of frustration, as her stomach protested…again.

But a sight of relief escaped her, when a wooden sign emblazoned with a mug of ale came into view. Finally, a tavern…

Not a moment passed after she stepped inside that Solafae and Kylee appeared outside the door, Lyme's cries of, "What the hell do you mean the cook's been taken hostage?!" greeting them as they stepped inside.

"What's wrong with Aunt Lyme?" Kylee asked, cocking her head as she watched the drow unsheath her daggers, intent on barging through the makeshift barrier of crates and chairs, then throwing the five kobolds into the nearest pot of boiling water.

"So many things." Sol replied in a dry voice, walking over, then laying a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Let me handle this, Lyme."

"But I--"

"You are going to get the cook killed if you behave like this." Sol interrupted bluntly. "And then where will you be?"

The assassin paused, then lowered her dagger, her arm hanging limp at her side.

The matter was settled in minutes, Solafae easily intimidating the kobolds into realeasing the cook, but not before the mob was persuaded to let them leave.

"I would have just killed them." Lyme muttered crankily, settling down into one of the wooden chairs.

"And where would the cook be after that?"

"Who cares? The tavern's shut down for now." Lyme muttered, eyeing some of the patrons. That hafling was beginning to look tasty…

"Hi, Aunt Lyme." Kylee greeted with a smile, climbing right onto her lap and giving her a hug.

Lyme smiled wryly down at the girl. "Hello, Kylee."

"Sol got me a book." She informed her aunt, fishing into her little pack and pulling out a book of fairytales. "She wanted me to get a book about swords and taking care of them and stuff, but that's boring. So I got this one. There's a knight in it, you know. And a dragon. Did you and Uncle Gabe fight dragons."

"Oh, on occasion." The shadow dancer remarked absently, eyeing a nearby dog with a little too much interest.

"Wow…" Kylee breathed, staring up at her aunt, before smiling widely. "The knight in the story is nice, but his armor is too shiny. Uncle Gabe is too shiny sometimes too. I bet he attracts moths and flies late at night."

"I take it you won't be looking for a knight in shining armor?" Lyme chuckled despite herself, as she had wanted nothing of the sort, yet ended up in love and married to a virtuous paladin.

"Nope. I'd rather marry a dashing rogue. But not until I'm really old. Like thirty, or something. Not as old as Sol though. She's like…six hundred. That's old. Really old. Even for a drow. How old are you, Aunt Lyme?"

"Much younger."

"You look like you're maybe twenty-three. That's old."

The shadow dancer made a face. "Is not."

"Is too! I'm seven, and that's pretty old, so you must be ancient!" Kylee declared, causing a frown to form on Lyme's face.

"Look, for a drow, one hundred and sixty years of age is not--"

"Do you want a cookie?" The little girl interrupted, taking a bag of chocolate-chip treats out of her pack, and fishing one out for Lyme. "I made them myself. Well…Tara's mom helped."

"More than anything." The shadow dancer whispered, snatching the treat right up and gobbling it down.

Quite pleased with herself, the little girl grabbed the bag of cookies and hopped about the tavern, offering them to various guests, including the tall warrior Lyme had seen earlier. "My sister Sol, has a huge sword like that, Miss. It's really heavy. I can't pick it up. I'm gonna use a flail one day though. That's what most clerics of Sune use, you know. I think I'll be good with it, because one time Wyl Mossfield was being mean to my friend, Bevil, while we were fishing, and I started hitting him with my rod, and it had a fish on the end, so he was really slimy afterwards. I think I could do the same with a flail, but with blood. Do you know anything about flails…?"

Lyme chuckled at the warrior's expression towards the talkative child, before turning back to Sol. "She seems well. Talkative as usual."

"Nothing much has changed." Sol actually chuckled at the quip.

The shadow dancer leaned back in her chair, watching as Sol unsheathed the giant blade she kept strapped to her back, and ran a whetstone over the edge. "That male hasn't stopped looking at us since we stepped in."

"The drow one?" Sol shrugged, running a callused finger along the edge of her blade. "Probably anxious. Look at him. He's small, handsome, and he's run away to the surface. He was probably a vith rothe in the Underdark."

"True." Lyme agreed, propping her elbow on the table, and resting her chin on the heel of her hand. "What brings you here, anyway?"

"The herbalist has something in store for Daeghun." Sol frowned. "But with this attack, I imagine he used it during the fight, and won't get some in until later."

"So where does that leave you?"

"Willing to help stave off the attacks, at least until the next set of trade caravans arrive." The warrior replied. "And what brings you here?"

"Gabe was in Luskan, and I was in the Aunauroch. We met in Blumberg yesterday, and we're headed for Silverymoon."

"I imagine that's going to be delayed."

"Are you kidding? Raids of evil creatures? Rumors of a dragon? Some evil force pervading all of this? Gabe won't be able to resist." Lyme chuckled, before her smile turned warm, seeing a man in plate mail step through the door, smoothing snow out of his blond hair.

"I'll see you later." She murmured to her siser, before heading for the man, standing up on her tiptoes to plant a light kiss on his lips.

"Food. Now." Lyme demanded before he could say a word, eliciting a chuckle from him as they stepped outside.

"There's a caravan of gypsies, and a red wizard nearby. One of them is bound to have something." The paladin commented, slipping an arm over her waist as they strode through the town. "Anything exciting happen to you today?"

Lyme grinned up at him. "This may shock you, but I actually did a good deed today."

"Really?" Gabe chuckled. "I'll expect Calimshan to freeze over any day now."

The shadow dancer replied with a roll of her eyes. "What about you? Steal candy from any babies?"

"Only a few, and I always replaced the lollipops with carrots. It's not technically evil…I'm simply encouraging them to improve their dental hygeine."

"Right. Typical excuse, paladin." She smiled to him. "What did you really do today?"

"I helped out with the town's defense, and I heard rumors that a white dragon is behind all of this. I'll have to pay him a visit sometime."

"Huh. A white dragon? And he's responsible for all of this, so as a paladin, you need to bestow justice." She smirked. "You know what that means…you either have to kill him, or sleep with him. Since those seem to be your only two ways of dealing with what you consider wicked in this world."

"I've told you again and again, I've never thought of you as wicked, love. Well, except for those evenings when you invite me to think of you as such." Gabe laughed, and kissed her cheek, his lips warm in contrast to the biting winds. "Tell me about your good deed."

Lyme smiled, and gave his hand a light squeeze as the caravan came into sight. "So you saw that other drow in there, right? It turns out…"

As the couple began to recall their days, dusk began to fall, and the day finally came to an end, leading into a night that was considerably more peaceful than the previous daylight hours.