For a pleasant surprise, the inside of the Flame and Serpent was substantially more inviting than the outside had been. While Pharaun approached the innkeeper, a fat ore with silver caps on his tusks and two ogre bouncers to back him up, Valas looked around. There were certainly plenty of folk sitting in the tap room, and though Jeggred drew more than one lingering stare as he crouched beneath a ceiling that wasn't quite the right height for him, most of the patrons ignored them. Valas recognized why. They really were mercenaries, independents in the business for gold and little else, and as long as no one interfered with them or their livelihoods, they would keep to themselves. They were Valas's kind of folk.
Quenthel's expression was one of distaste, but Pharaun returned with a gleam in his eye and the good news that they had actually managed to get the Flame and Serpent's last two rooms. When the wizard mentioned the price, Quenthel rolled her eyes, but Valas realized they had probably still gotten a bargain.
«Only two?» Quenthel said doubtfully. «Then the males will have to share one, while Faeryl and I take the other. Jeggred, you, of course, will remain with me.»
Faeryl's face looked stricken at the prospect of sharing her quarters with the draegloth, but she said nothing.
The rooms were not in the same area of the inn. The larger of the two, the one Quenthel claimed for her own, was a round chamber with a separate bathing room. It was near the front of the structure, with several small windows that looked out over the city. From their vantage, the females could see the magnificent glowing web streets stretching off into the distance both above and below. The smaller chamber was at the rear of the Flame and Serpent, an elongated room with two beds and a divan for a third person. The lone window opened to the wall of the cavern, where rivulets of water ran down, leaking through from the World Above and trickling down to the bottom of the V-shaped city, where it fed beds of fungi.
It's not much of a view, Valas decided, but it might prove useful for leaving the inn unobserved.
I want to rest for a while, so you three,» Quenthel said, looking at the males, «stay out of trouble. We will convene at the end of the day and discuss what to do next over our meal. Until then, leave me alone!»
With that she stalked off to her chambers, dragging Faeryl and Jeggred along with her.
Valas agreed to rest on the couch, and as the three of them unpacked a bit, Pharaun stood and stretched, cracking his back.
«I don't know about you two,» the wizard said after a bit, «but I'm too excited to flop around here. I fancy a drink somewhere and maybe a chance to hear more of the buzz around town. Are you two interested in accompanying me?»
Valas looked at Ryld, who gave the scout a nod.
«Sure,» they both said in unison, and the three of them set out together.
Three drow males moving through the streets of Ched Nasad proved to be much more anonymous than five drow and a draegloth, though Pharaun supposed that a large part of it was due to the fact that he, Ryld, and Valas were sauntering along back web streets in a higher section of the city. As they strolled, listening to the din of business all around them, the mage couldn't help but be thrilled at the exploration of the city. Unlike Menzoberranzan, Ched Nasad was a cosmopolitan collection of sights, sounds, and smells that permeated the entire city. He could certainly detect subtle differences as the trio moved through various sections of town, but regardless of where they found themselves, the wizard absorbed it all, noting that the air vibrated with a kind of clamor, the feel of wheeling and dealing, that was only present in the baser areas of Menzoberranzan.
It was certainly more lively than Tier Breche, where Pharaun spent far too much time cloistered in the towers of the Academy, hidden away in Sorcere. Back home, he had made a habit of only getting out into the main city when he needed supplies or the occasional drink and bit of fun. It had been that way for many years, at least while his sister Greyanna longed to kill him. With her no longer posing a problem, he made a note to himself to partake of the more colorful neighborhoods of home more often.
As they strolled, Valas and Ryld seemed to be looking everywhere at once, but Pharaun knew that their attentiveness to the cacophony around them was due to a different reason than his own. Certainly, he was wary of a pickpocket or thug, but for the weapons master and the scout, it was what they had trained themselves to do for years upon years. They had honed their skills of wariness and observation to keen levels, and their entire beings reverberated with it. Pharaun doubted seriously that anyone in the city would get the drop on him while his two companions were in tow. It was a comforting thought, if only because it allowed him to truly relax and enjoy the splendor of the City of Shimmering Webs.
The mage certainly understood why Ched Nasad had been dubbed such. The tangle of streets crisscrossed in purples, ambers, greens, and yellows for hundreds of feet in every direction, and it was a marvelous sight. Everywhere the three of them walked vendors hawked mushrooms, or jewelry, or potions. Pharaun noticed that the goods seemed of an inferior sort, though, and few people were buying—everyone had a hint of something in his eyes. Fear, he decided. Everyone looked afraid.
One filthy looking drow male had small cages, each one holding a small four-armed humanoid with multifaceted eyes, mandibles, and a spidery abdomen. They were no more than a foot tall. Peering closer, Pharaun could see that the creatures had web-spinning capabilities. They shrank back as he studied them.
«You wish to buy one, Master?» the male asked hopefully, jumping up from where he had been sitting cross-legged.
«Infant chitines,» Valas said. «The adults are hunted for sport, and whenever a nest is found the babies are brought back here and sold as pets.»
Interesting,» Pharaun replied and briefly contemplated purchasing one, though from the look of things, the drow male was having little luck drawing any interest in his wares. «I'd consider getting one—as a present for Quenthel, you know—but these seem over priced.»
The male's hopeful stare faded to disappointment, and he sat down on the edge of the street again.
Ryld snorted, and Valas shook his head.
«They're not too expensive,» the scout said as they walked on. «The market's probably just flooded with them right now.»
«Why is that?» Pharaun asked.
«Because chitines and choldriths worship the goddess, too,» Valas answered quietly.
«Choldriths?»
«Chitine priestesses. Same racial stock, larger and dark-skinned. No hair, human eyes. I suspect that they may be suffering the same calamity that has befallen our own clerics.»
Pharaun's curiosity was piqued.
«Really,» he said, musing. «It might prove useful if we could track down some of these choldriths and find out if they are suffering the same fate. It's obvious that Ched Nasad endures the goddess's silence, too, and once we get proof, Quenthel may be at a loss for what to do next. This would give us the means to explore further, find out if Lolth's reticence is universal or just limited to our own race.»
«It's a nice idea in theory, mage,» Ryld said, shooing a goblin vendor away who was trying to convince him to buy a bowl of slugs, «but you'd be hard-pressed to track any down, and struggle even more to elicit information from them. The drow hunt them for sport, so the chitines and choldriths have learned to flee or fight to the death.»
«Hmm,» Pharaun responded, spying a little shop selling something he wanted. «Perhaps, but my particular talents could come in handy in such an endeavor.»
The mages companions followed him to a cramped kiosk selling spirits, which was hanging at the corner of two fairly large web streets. To reach it, customers had to slide down a steep ramp of webbing to the front of the vending stand, then ascend a ladder of webbing to return to the street. Pharaun studied the small crowd of people gathered around, each in turn descending the slide and purchasing a flask or mushroom cap of beverage.