The streets of Menzoberranzan were busy as usual with drow, merchants peddling funguses, weapons, and other pottery and wares. The early market hustle and bustle parted for the two kender, speaking in hushed voices. They were curious about the colors of the female's battle armor, and the jingling of the bells covering it. They were only slightly less intrigued by the male cloaked in black following her, wielding a quarterstaff of polished walnut. Nobody barred their way as they went into the Black Dragon Inn, located just one block from the gates to the castle.
The drow behind a counter, scowling, looked at the two entering his establishment. In a very tense voice, dripping with malice, he spoke in elven to the security personnel flanking the door. The two elves, large for their race, moved in, but were cut short by a feminine voice. She spoke the tongue as well as if she had been raised by them, ordering the two not to lay a finger upon her. She looked up at the innkeeper, and spoke in flawless drow. "I am Mithrell Kendermore, and I will be staying in this hotel."
The clerk looked at her in surprise a moment, then reclined in his chair in an easy position, of one used to being in power. He spoke easily, with an accent that indicated him a distant relative of the House of Do'Urden. "And how exactly do you plan to pay for this?" At this, the black robed guard trailing her, apparently also easy with the tongue, stepped forward. He brought forth a small satchel of black velvet and handed it to Mithrell. She took it and turned it upside down, revealing a king's ransom in platinum doubloons. Mithrell giggled as she almost saw the pieces reflected in the greedy owner's eyes.
"I assure you, lord innkeeper, that we have enough to pay for this." He stammered to the bellboy, who ran forward wearing the typical gaudy uniform of red and yellow, with twin rows of brass buttons running down the chest. He guided them to the best room in the inn, at the very back. He threw open the doors of carved mahogany doors, and ushered them inside. Mithrell smiled at the room. It was very spacious, almost like being in a mansion of their own. A stove sat in the corner, and an oaken table sat in the middle of the room, large enough for a dozen people to sit comfortably around. Adamante turned to the bellboy, his black robes flowing, and bowed him out. As he closed the doors, Mithrell flopped down on the bed.
Adamante set to preparing lunch as Mithrell polished her battle armor, humming softly to herself. Almost an hour had passed, and she did not notice until the enticing aroma of jasmine-scent candles filled her senses. She looked up to see Adamante smiling, dressed in dress robes of black. He bowed to her and pulled her chair out for her to seat. She gave him a peck on the cheek before sitting, and watched him sit next to her. They talked as they ate the remaining venison from last night's kill, speaking of the looks on the faces of the populace at seeing such a bright and cheery kender enter their stronghold.
As they finished, Mithrell reclined in her chair as Adamante took care of the dishes. When he returned, he tripped and fell against the table, which shook one of the candles loose. It fell to the edge of the table with a soft thud, and Mithrell gasped as a droplet of wax his her bare calf. Adamante looked up to apologize, and noticed something about her... a quickening of her breath and a flush adorning her skin. He smiled to himself as he set the candle back up and lit it again, also lighting a third candle smelling of cinnamon. He pushed the candles aside and looked to her, watching her peel the cooling wax from her flesh. She looked into his eyes, and blushed furiously at what she saw there.
