<strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"> Phardril Lice-Drilloth </span></strong><br/><strong>HP: 132/132<br/>AC: 15 (flat 10, touch 15)<br/>Status: Normal<br/>Effects: None<br/>Matron Mother's Room - 8:30</strong><br/><br/>“Ah Rauven, it’s always a pleasure.”<br/><br/>She smiled at him. He knew just what to say to infuriate her, and she wouldn’t have wanted any other way.<br/><br/>“Prepare my bath.”<br/><br/>“That ought to get on his nerves; he hates it when I’m late.” She thought to herself. She paused briefly to observe a number of spiders. She never sensed fear in them, yet they always stayed cautiously out of harm’s way. She stared for only a moment. It was looking to be a particularly uneventful day, well maybe not, maybe she was just bored. She needed to speak to her first daughter before the ritual tomorrow though; it was difficult to predict how drastic the effects would be on her mind. Rauven was particularly busy with her young, as he had been for the last few years. Perhaps she had had too many children over the recent decades. No matter, the urge to mate was do difficult to resist at times, no need to dwell on the adverse affects. She got up, enough time wasted, even by her standards. She walked over to the bath room with poise that made it feel more like she was dancing. She gave one last look to Rauven as she brushed her hand gently across the frame of the door. He didn’t look amused. The bath, as always, was enjoyable. She could never really say it helped relieve her of tension; she didn’t have much to begin with. She took pleasure in being alone, the tiresome activities of a Matron Mother where irritating at times. She plunged herself underneath the water one last time.<br/><br/><br/><strong>HP: 132/132<br/>AC: 24 (flat 19, touch 15)<br/>Status: Normal<br/>Effects: None<br/>Matron Mother's Room - 9:00</strong><br/><br/>She had adorned herself with most of her personal effects. That which wasn’t either elegant jewellery or completely reviling was underneath the effects of a glamouring illusion to appear so. She beckoned Rauven to her side as she prepared to make her way to the throne room. Not moments after she had left her room an imp had materialized in front of her. It courteously relayed some manner of message; she found it hard to focus on the content of his words. She was fixated on how simultaneously infuriated and amused that this impudent little creature had made it into the heart of her household. After he was done his little speech Rauven took a step forward as though he was ready to crush the devil at the drop of a gesture. She stuck her hand out in front to dismiss the idea.<br/><br/>“What do we have here? A busy little fly has managed to work its self into the center of the spider’s web, how delightful!” She laughed in an almost manic tone. “Well, let’s hear it then.” She suddenly barked out.<br/><br/>The imp proceeded to inform her of a slave auction being held not but two days from now. It was a good thing that had been the news, well, good for the imp. House Lice-Drilloth was always in need of more bodies. She gracefully accepted the invitation and sent the imp on his way. As she continued down the hall she decided to forgo breakfast as she did most days; she preferred one large meal a day. Rauven skittered ahead to open the double wide doors to her audience chamber. There were two seats in the room, both explicitly for her use only. The first was almost more of a loveseat than a proper chair; it was lavishly adorned and extremely comfortable. She spent so much time in this room she might as well be at ease. The second chair was only for when she was dealing with religious matters, it was cold plain onyx carved into a simple bust of a spider. She was always deadly serious when she occupied that seat. She sat down in the latter and sent Rauven to summon her eldest daughter: Orbb’dalharil.<br/>