<div class="floatright">(http://imgur.com/KzDJuUK.jpg)</div><br/>Zerxel ended up waiting a fair bit of time, well over thirty minutes before Bo came back into the room, still clad in only a towel.  The look on her face was one of anger, but it was softened slightly, as if she wasn't mad as much as she knew she should be mad.  She stomped over to her belongings as Zerxel began speaking, dressing in her brief armor, looping the golden key around her neck, and listening to Zerxel's plea.  When Zerxel finally finished her piece, Bo turned on her, the dwarven face so expressive, being more a mask of anger then one of genuine emotion.<strong>"Aye, an maybe ye are.  An maybe I'm a dwarf an all the stories me people tell about yer kin are closer to the truth then I'd ave thought after gettin te know ye.  Moradin's forge, maybe yer just a black hearted drow with a soul sold to a spider demon at birth, an I don't know.  But I do know one thing about ye Zerxel.  Ye can be goodly at times, ye can be caring, an ye have the genuine drive te beat the dungeon.  Whatever else, I keep tellin meself that.  An I hope anyone watchin remembers that.  Ye didn't come here fer power or glory, ye came here cause ye felt the calling te try to beat the dungeon.  It's a pure goal, truthfully.  But I can't help but ask meself what yer willing to do to accomplish yer goals.  Ain't gonna beat the next level with good intentions, I know that, an as for what awaits ye beyond the reaping level, I know ye gotta prepare for."</strong><br/><br/>She sighed and sat down on a bench shaking her head,<strong>"But I got me own goals Zerxel, ye knew this fer months, an if I somehow manage te make it to the reapin level still vaguely dwarf like, I'm takin the exit.  Ye always knew that.  I... I can't say what I gotta get done before that, not with these eyes watchin an listenin.  But if I accomplish me task, I'm makin fer the exit, sure as steel.  Now what ye said ta Lisa, it cut me too.  Ye said she was a disgrace cause she wasn't tryin te end the dungeon.  An ye know I ain't fer the labrytinth, so am I a disgrace in yer eyes?"</strong><br/><br/>Bo hung her head and let Zerxel respond before gaining just a spark of anger,<strong> "An yer wrong about her.  Any girl who shows up to the temple, any girls who enters here, she's no disgrace, she's brave.  Us fifty, every year, we're what keeps a goddess from destroying all that's left of the world.  Fer a girl just sixteen to agree to go to the temple, instead of takin the true cowards way out,"</strong>Zerxel knew that Bo was talking about suicide, which did happen to some girls who were selected.  As opposed to trying to run and hide from the dungeon, which also was a rare occurrence.<strong> "That's a kind of bravery, an yer callin Lisa a disgrace..." </strong>Bo clucked her tongue and shook her head.<br/><br/><strong>"Well, I think we said enough on that.  Get dressed, Tahkina said she'd meet us upstairs.  I'm fer headin out right away.  We can take Tahkina to the spiderlings if ye want, then we make fer the golden door, an then get the hell off this cursed level of a city."</strong><br/><br/>With that Bo turned and stomped up the stairs, her skimpy mail armor rattling as she went.  Zerxel sat alone in the baths for a few moments before feeling an odd sensation, similar to one she'd felt in the Lamia's shop.  She turned her head and a purple robed judge appeared from a portal.  He, or she, extended a hand towards Zerxel.  It took the drow a heartbeat to realize he was handing her something, and she took the small object from his hand.  It was a small scroll, tightly rolled and smaller than the palm of her hand.  She unrolled it and read the tight but precise script that was written on the scroll.  She instantly recognized the script as old drow, which had fallen out of use over the last hundred years in favor of the common tongue.  Her red eyes widened as she read the simple, short note.<br/><br/><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;">Kill the dwarf or give her over to the spiderlings.  Equip the corrupted one, she will serve you better.<br/>Remember the only real difference between an ally and an enemy is that one deserves a quick death.</span></span></strong></div><br/>Zerxel felt her fist crush the scroll after reading the last line.  It was a line that was well known among the worshipers of Lolth.  There was little doubt that it was a message sent by a drow who would sponsor her if she followed the directions.  But the most damning thing was the signature at the bottom of the very short scroll.  There was not a drow alive who did not know that name.  There were likely fewer people in the mortal realms, above ground or below, who could weild the power, the wealth, the influence that the sender of the note did.  But what would it mean if Zerxel followed these directions, worse, what would it mean if she did not?  She unclenched her fist and looked at the signature on the scroll one last time before handing the crumpled scroll back to the judge, who took it before retreating back into the portal and vanishing without a trace.  Without a trace except for that signature, that name, that was burned into her mind.<br/><br/><div align="center">                                                                        <strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 16pt;">~Matron Baenre</span></span></strong></div>