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[Thrax]

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"Where have you been the last few days, Nizzre'?" Dharzhal asked his daughter as she stood beside a stone table piled high with alchemical paraphenalia. "Your mother and I have been worried. We even went looking for you ourselves. You disobeyed us by not informing us of your leaving and return." He glared hard at her even as she sought to avoid eye contact with him. "An answer is required. The truth is expected."

She shrugged. "I went to visit a town or two. I am bored here," was all she said as she placed several small bottles onto the table.

Dharzhal walked over to the table and picked up one of the bottles. He put his nose to it and sniffed. He sniffed again. His eyes widened. "This is poison! Unless I am mistaken, it is that which..." he stopped suddenly, placing the bottle back down on the table. He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to turn and face him. She had no choice but to look into his eyes, which had narrowed sharply from anger and suspicion. "What have you been doing?!"

She gritted her teeth. Tired of skulking about and lying, she blurted out the truth, not caring what effect it might have: "I have been playing the avenger, father! You should be proud of me instead of being how you are! I am drow! You and mother are drow!" She pulled herself from his grasp and took a step back. She scowled at him. "You should act like it! Why do you run from what you are?! Why can you not be what you are?! For pity's sake, you both worship Quarval-Sharess!!! She smiles upon what I am doing! You both should too!"

Undeterred by her emotion, he kept his gaze steadily upon her. "What have you been doing?! Tell me!"

Streea, Dharzhal's consort and Nizzre's mother entered the room. She stood beside her husband, folding her arms. "What you have done may have put us all in great peril, Nizzre.' We have a right to know if we are in danger from your actions. Have you done so?"

Nizzre' nodded and lowered her head. "I had not thought of that, but yes, in a way perhaps, I have." She raised it quickly. "But I left no trace! Nothing I have done could find its way to light. I have been very careful."

"The price for failure is death among the Great Houses... and so it is here. If death is to be our fate, I would know what I have done to earn it," Streea explained.

"Yes, listen to your mother, child. Tell us all."

---=O=---

"I learned this much, father... they have a daughter. Her name is Nizzre.' I heard them talking together on several occasions. The discussions seemed rather heated," Skurj reported to Thrax. "I think she is very young, even by our standards."

Thrax leaned back on his throne. A bone or two in its composition creaked slightly at the sudden readjustment of weight. He put his hand to his chin and thought for a moment. "So, a daughter! I wonder how they hid her from us all this time?"

"Perhaps they felt it was safe enough to bring her out of hiding. We have not shown them any attention for months," Skurj speculated.

"For now, we shall act as if we still do not know this. Call on the traitor. Have him meet me here. Make it no later than a day. I may have some answers for Lord Tai by then."

Skurj nodded. "I shall." Then, thinking about the meeting between them which he had overheard while hidden, he commented. "I think the pact is safe. Lord Tai remains loyal to it, and us. We have dodged that dart, I believe."

"IF we can deliver the criminal over to him. There must be solid proof as well. We have two witnesses, but nothing absolutely incriminating. Keep up the search for clues," Thrax ordered.

Skurj got up, preparing to leave. He stopped, remembering something important. "Oh, I almost forgot. There is a rumor that Duke Kotare is very ill. There are hints that he may be dying. I was sure you wanted to know."

Thrax perked up a bit. "Ill? Dying? Do not be absurd! Whatever it is, it shall pass. I will write my sister and find out, if I can."

"What will you do if it is true?"

Thrax thought for a moment. "Life would not be worth living without one great nemesis like the Duke. I shall pray for his survival." There was no mirth in the statement.

Skurj stared at him. "You cannot be serious!"

"I am deadly serious. If he dies, it must be in battle, fighting desperate odds against worthy foes. Warriors such as he should not die at home in bed. A warrior's last great stand should not be fought on a sickbed."

"You have changed father. Be careful," Skurj remarked with a slight grin. "Compassion is a virtue, remember?"

"Be off with you!" Thrax bellowed, though his tone was benign. "Before your ruin my breakfast!"