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[Dharzhal]

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Dharzhal T'Ar entered the Tangled Web tavern and surveyed the situation. A few humans had already arrived and were guzzling drinks. Otherwise ignoring them, he crossed the room and was directed by the drow waiter, Amal'une, to where the Matron Mother sat, keeping his head lowered and his eyes averted. He waited for her to speak first. She greeted him, and he replied in kind, except to make mention of her inherent superiority.

"Have you and the Patron made ready the item?" she whispered.

Without meeting her gaze, but concerned about her response, he offered, also in a whisper: "I have had no order as yet, but I did bring a small amount. It will be an easy thing to bring more."

She took the negative response extremely well, he thought. Agreeing to his suggestion, she commanded him to use the lower level for his activities. Without further word he departed for home.

He returned within the hour with more than half a dozen urns filled with the powder he had named Distopia, the making of which had been blessed by Lloth, a powder he created many months ago for this very occasion. Slipping in quietly, he placed the urns beside the rows of kegs containing potions and liquor. He then reported back to the Matron who told him to tell Amal'une to spike the drinks to the human guests. Dharzhal spoke to her downstairs, and, using drow sign language to prohibit prying ears from discovering the plot, he gave directions to her accordingly. He spent most of the evening making sure that just enough quantities of the powder were placed in mixed drinks and kegs of alcohol, so that none was wasted, and no one was overlooked. Amal'une assisted him in this.

He knew that within two days, depending upon the amount imbibed, the constitution of the drinker, and the race of the person (it was designed only to effect humans), that those who ordered drinks, and consumed them, would suddenly feel more kindly disposed toward their dark elf hosts.