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[Baevin Kilduis]

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Time had passed much more leisurely and to her liking since Alaundril brought Bae'vin back to the dark continent.

Once again, she was allowed the luxury of existing in a way that did not entail constant intrigue and obvious imminent danger. Though young and often impetuous, Bae'vin was not so naive as to believe there was true safety anywhere--especially among her own kind. But the present had her in a comfortable place, and it was not her intent to put an end to a good thing.

The last she had seen Alaundril, his parting words to her had been, "Now, stay out of trouble." And truly, that had been her intent. He left her in a most comfortable condition, in a beautifully appointed room, and she languished in the security of his private quarters.

However, even the best laid plans can be laid to waste.

After the fact, Bae'vin tried to convince herself that it wasn't her fault, but that of the pretty little bottle she discovered on a table filled with flasks and vials. Her eye was drawn to the pastel-colored, crystalline container.

Perhaps her fingers held a tremor due to being nervous about handling items that she had no real right to, or maybe it was her sleepy state of mind, but the cause did not change the end result. Bae'vin dropped the bottle and the thing simply exploded with a roar that was impressive in comparison to the relatively small size of the fireball.

Jumping back, she exclaimed loudly, "Gi, shu!" and bolted from the room with her heart in her throat. How that hurt her eyes and ears!

Standing on the other side of the door for a few moments as the ringing in her ears dissipated and the visual disturbances faded, Bae'vin decided that there was no lingering fire or reason to flee the building proper. Cautiously, she opened the ornate double doors to peer in.

Her heart sank. There was charring on the floor, soot on the ceiling, and the bedclothes were smoldering. Despite her dislike of fire, she managed to pull the smoking cloth from the bed, jumping up and down on it to put out the embers. Fortunately, the damaged places were small and for the most part contained.

Unfortunately, Alaundril's last words to her were emblazoned in her memory.

She stood there staring at the mess, wondering how she would possibly explain it.
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Man lives in the sunlit world of what he believes to be reality. But... there is, unseen by most, an underworld, a place that is just as real, but not as brightly lit... a darkside.

[Alaundril Do'Rhett]

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The complete mess that the old Drow returned to was enough to rile his already short temper. He looked around the charred room, a look of shock on his face. Stupid girl. He half expected to find her remains laying somewhere in the room. The everything was covered with a singed sooty layer.
I suppose she ran off then.
Alaundril took a few moments looking around his once beautiful bed chamber...after only a minute, he found a small pair of foot prints leaving the place. With a heavy sigh he turned and walked towards the door, simply shaking his head as he shut it behind him.
"Mr. Narshan, fetch the cleaning wenches and set them on my room. I've got someone to track down."
He angrily walked past the clueless tavern master and stormed outside. There would be beatings. Many.