Drinks, or How Not to Address a Lord

Silvia stands outside the entrance to the Four Fair Winds. She was used to the look the staff had given her, although it was particularly snobbish in this establishment. She shakes her head, of course this is where Lord Jaezred stayed. Suddenly from the door he steps out, goggles covering his eyes.

"Miss Silvia, you asked to see me?" he asks. Though he is sharply-dressed as ever, he is unable to hide the grogginess in his voice.

"Ah good morning my lord. Actually forgive me but what is the etiquette here, are you at all my lord?"

"I am a lord indeed."

"But not mine."

He opens his mouth, then rubs his chin as he actually thinks about it.
"The 'my' in 'my lord' is just an expression, but a simple 'lord' is also sufficient, I think. Your surface Common is a strange tongue."

"Apologies but I don’t owe you respect for a title that doesn’t hold over me, I owe you respect for everything else however. So Mr. Jaezred do you mind if I ask you something?"

Behind the goggles, he narrows his eyes at her, but nonetheless beckons for her to follow him inside, away from the cold. She gladly accepts but keeps herself from going too far into the establishment. Jaezred picks the table nearest to the door and sits down at it, motioning for her to sit opposite him.

"So what is it you want of me?"

She takes the seat

"You can see them right? In the past once people have seen them they usually make some sort of religious gesture and ask me to leave by the next morning. But not you"

Taking off the goggles, he casts detect magic and, as the quasits light up in his vision, his eyes scan each one of them sowing chaos in Silvia's surroundings.

"I can," he murmurs. "As I said yesterday, these creatures are not so strange to me. Some of my fellow mages in Menzoberranzan have the ability to summon them, to serve them in battle or more mundane tasks."


“So you have seen them before?”


"Yes. Quasits, they're called, demons from the Abyss."


"I have not had the chance to learn much about them. This is probably the largest city I have ever seen. Can they speak?"

"I have heard them speak. Demons have their own tongue, called Abyssal, and I know some of my peers have also successfully taught them Elvish. Pardon me, but how in the Hells did you end up with so many of them?"


"It’s a long story, how long do you have?"

"I don't have anything better to do today, at least until nightfall."



He turns around to order a martini from a nearby server, then looks back at Silvia with a raised brow, trying to judge if she wants something to drink. She shakes her head subtly.

"They’ll knock it over, I’ve learnt to stop trying. The story starts in an overly idyllic small village, we can skip to the bit that matters though. There was a fight, people dying, a girl confused and with not enough training or experience. Then there was a snake who offered a way out, the girl killed the raiders, but she was barely herself. And now she is haunted, beset with imps that seek to taunt her and a bloodthirsty rage that takes her whenever battle strikes."


All through this story Silvia is absentmindedly picking at the thread over her knuckles. Jaezred can't help but stare at the picking.

"A snake?"

"A snake, black as the void with terrible eyes."

He purses his lips. Pointing at the thread, he asks, "And what are those for?"

Suddenly she realises that she has been picking at her knuckles this whole time.

"Oh, the thread. My village’s priest gave it to me, said it would bind the curse. Two dead sheep later and I was banished from the town of course but I still bind them every morning. I know it’s magic, the imps, sorry quasits, hate touching it and the spool never runs out. But it’s always fraying and it never truly stops the rush of battle. If you want I can show you underneath? Just for a second."

He nods. Silvia places her left arm on the table and holds it by the forearm with her right.

"You can cut the thread."

The drow pulls out a knife made from the fang of a giant spider from inside his coat and slowly hovers it towards Silvia's knuckles. With a single, deft motion, he severs the threads. As he does Silvia’s hand shoots towards Jaezred but her other hand pins it down. With the thread gone he can clearly see the dark blood red lines that cross over her knuckles like blood. He studies the strange marks and looks Silvia up and down, and eventually takes a deep breath. A waitress delivers a glass of martini into his hand without him looking at her, and he sips from it as he leans back into his chair.



"So, what do you want from me exactly, Miss Silvia?"

"Answers, plus it was just interesting to talk to someone who seemed so… nonchalant about a curse like this."

She hasn’t let go of the hand. He shrugs.

"Yours is bad, from the sound of it, but I've seen worse. It appears you've made a pact with a being from the Lower Planes without realising it. Not a devil, that is obvious, likely a demon, or maybe even something more dangerous. In any case, your soul is bound to it, which explains your..." He motions at the hand she is holding down and at the quasits.

"Hm, that certainly seems to be the case then. Could I ask a favour sir? Left breast pocket on the outside."

With a short gesture a spectral hand dips into the pocket coming out a second later with a spool of black thread. They can both see one of the imps attempting to bat at it before it recoils in annoyance with a hiss. The spectral hand holds it up closer to him.

"Fascinating," he mutters, giving the hissing demons a sideways glance.


"It must be blessed, either that or a small town priest somehow acquired a magic item."

"Perhaps. What do you want me to do with it?"


"The knuckles, just once loosely and it should calm down enough for me to do the rest"

The mage hand does as asked, gently binding the knuckles of Silvia's fist with the black thread. She lets go of the hand and takes the thread, binding it tighter, once, twice, three times. Eventually it covers the red marks.


"Thank you sir. Now before I leave I do have to ask, why were you so afraid of that priest? Forgive me for asking but is it a drow thing?"

"You would not understand," he says, his face suddenly growing stern.
"It is a dark elf matter. Pardon me, miss, but frankly, it isn't a surface-dweller's business."

"And yet I have laid in front of you the story of who I am, after so many have cast me out for it. Curious, it truly must be terrifying."

"You have no idea," he mutters, looking down at his own left arm.

"You don’t have to tell me but it’s my purpose these days to help people in any way I can, surface-dweller though I might be."

"I don't need your help. But thank you for the offer." Jaezred looks at her thoughtfully.

"That was as much as I can tell you about your...conundrum. However, I happen to know someone who might know more. Why don't we make this a quid pro quo — a favour for a favour, hmm? I have no need of assistance currently, but I shall call upon it in the future."


"Well then, if you ever need a noon sky sketched this surface dweller can sure take a stab at it. I would gladly accept any information you may have.."

A smirk touches his lips. "Excellent. There is a firbolg mage in New Hillborrow named Big Blue, goes by BB. She has her own personal connection with a snake deity, though a benign one, unlike yours. They have what she calls a friendship. You can find her in the flower farm over there." He pauses to sip the martini and looks out the window. "As it happens, New Hillborrow has a history with snakes..."


"I don’t suppose you could direct me. I arrived in Port Ffirst and was directed to Fort Ettin, aside from the road in between I have seen little of this place."

"Ah." Jaezred calls to the barman and asks for a map of the Dawnlands, which is promptly brought over to the table. He taps a finger at a village labelled "New Hillborrow" just south of Fort Ettin.

"There is where you need to go."


"Understood, thank you for your assistance my friend. Enjoy your day. Or perhaps not, enjoy your night."

"Friend? So quickly?" he murmurs under his breath.
"Yes, good day to you too, and good luck. Remember your debt to me."


"You’re like a reverse Sorrel." She smiles, although it is back to her sad smile Jaezred saw the first time smiled, and stands up to leave with Jaezred's confused gaze on her back..