- The Archivist, your narrator.

Talilissa knew it was going to be a productive day. She felt it in the air, which was dank and moist, as befitted a great fungus farm. Her House, the noble drow family of Kheeleillae, whose full courtesy name was Kheeleillae Oeai Nathonn, had recently purchased an excellent cave which produced some of the largest and most excellent edible fungus of the undercaverns beneath the mighty dark elven metropolis of Ille-Athalath. Outsiders called the drow 'dark elves', though to call a drow that to her face was to invite swift death at the end of a poisoned sacrificial blade. None, drow or otherwise, had ever treated Talilissa with anything but the greatest reverence. She was Sixth Daughter of her House, a very recent graduate of the seminary of the Temple of Lloth - the cruel and powerful Spider Queen who ruled all drow through the absolute power of her priesthood - and had recently been charged with handling a number of new purchases to cut her managerial teeth. From thence, she could expect to advance through the ranks of her family and the society of her city at large - or die trying. For such was the way of the drow: the ascent to the top was fraught with peril, but its rewards were potentially infinite.

For the moment, though, such considerations were far from Talilissa's mind, for she also had to start her younger sister's instruction in the arts of household administration. Vellithea was Thirteenth Daughter and was currently excelling in her studies at the Temple of Lloth where she was a dozen semesters away from achieving the rank of a fully initiated priestess. She had also developed into a magnificent young woman and Talilissa had been fortunate to secure her favours as an ally, and as an extremely exciting lover as well. Despite her relative youth, Vellithea was renowned as an excellent student at the Temple both in the seminary and in the bedchamber.

Talilissa, nevertheless, was certain that she was an example that her sister could only admire in awe and envy. The drow were on the short side, even by elven standards, though females were often taller and larger than the lowly males - as was only proper in a race that held spiders in the highest esteem. Talilissa carried herself with all the lethal, menacing grace of a daughter of a noble drow House: her frame was ennobled by such curves that surface dwellers would not even have imagined on an elf, with bounteous, but firm and elegant breasts, provocatively flared hips complemented by a taut bottom that looked like it had been sculpted out of pure onyx, and rich, silky, silver coloured hair that reached in free falling strands to her waist. As with all of her kind, her skin was an unsettling shade of black which in the light betrayed hints of deep blue while her eyes were so deeply red they almost looked violet. On the rare occasions when Lily allowed herself to smile in public, she knew she excited the lust of noble Daughters and Matron-Mothers alike with the curling of her sensuous violet lips. Vellithea, in many ways, resembled her sister, though she was still a little waifish - for she was but a few Revolutions short of full womanhood - and her features were perhaps more delicate still, so much so that they looked innocent rather than menacingly sensuous.

That, Talilissa reflected, was a mere illusion. Her sister had all the cruelty, cunning and good judgement to become an excellent Daughter of their House and it had been an unforeseen pleasure to guide her on the subject of a productive day's tasks.

"Vellithea, observe carefully," Talilissa explained, running her hand expansively across the tightly packed rows of ghoulish, sickly-white fungus which grew in contorted shapes, somewhat like aborted foetuses, "slaves will often steal cuts from the fungus and subsequently barter them off on the black market or consume them in addition to their daily rations. Do you know why we cannot allow this?"

"Yes, Yilaria, because it would undermine our House's long term profit from this field which was purchased for ten pith of raw mithral and, moreover, it may excite rebellion in the slaves, which is why we ensure that their rations are at subsistence level to discourage superfluous exertion." Vellithea replied. She would never have dared refer to her sister by her personal name - that privilege was reserved for Talilissa's elder sisters, her superiors and her equals. So, as far as Vellithea was concerned, her sister had always been Yilaria - or 'revered sister'.

"Good. Your answer cannot be faulted." Talilissa commented favourably. Even in the dim, white glow of the phosphorescent fungi, her sister was truly magnificent, clad as she was in a shimmering black and silver sleeveless dress which was almost transparent and defined by tiny, carnivrous bio-luminescent plants worked into the fabric. The dress had to be fed a mixture of water and goblin blood at regular intervals, and was subsequently passed in a bath of perfume. Nevertheless, Talilissa was certain that she looked more stunning still, for she had chosen to accentuate her perfectly feminine assets with an exceedingly rare Phase Spider silk dress with a plunging neckline and flimsy, dramatically slit skirt which flared out into strips of silk which resembled thin, knotted spider legs.

"Many thanks, Yilaria, but managing fields of fungus is surely not worth the expenditure of an entire day." Vellithea began cautiously, not wanting to irritate her sister.

"Check your impertinence, girl." Talilissa snapped, menacingly flicking the long, thin striking cane she always brought with her. It had been carved from a spinneret of the massive Abyssal spider known as Bebilith. Vellithea knew that cane to be source of otherworldly pain or pleasure - and sometimes both -, depending on her sister's whim.

"Apologies, Yilaria," Vellithea said, never betraying a hint of nervousness, though, inside, she feared her sister's temper, "I am, after all, here to learn the wisdom you would impart."

"Precisely, this variety of fungus is known as keddai and, in the estimation of our wise Matron-Mother, it will soon become staple for our raiding parties since, unlike most other fungi, it is blessed with a very high nutrient density per unit of weight. Regrettably, its flavour is vile. As a consequence, we are the first House to seriously experiment with this fungus as a standard ration. However, we did recently discover a secret that is to remain only within our House. That is, that the fungus only tastes disgusting because it is fed with conventional fertilisers both vegetable and magical. If, however, fed with diluted svinfnerbli - or deep gnome - blood, the resulting product is highly palatable." Talilissa explained with satisfaction. The discovery had been in part hers, though, as was customary, her elder sister, who had supervised the experiment, was entitled to full credit.

"Our ingenuity never ceases to amaze we. Our bloodline shall soon be the first in Ille-Athalath." Vellithea sighed, a trace of longing in her voice. Their House was exceedingly powerful, but she wanted them to be the most powerful of all, to reduce even the most daunting of her rival Initiates at the Temple of Lloth into chambermaids and playthings.

"All in due time." Talilissa said, a smile creeping across her lips. Her sister excited her when she was so sanguine about domination, "But for now, let us concentrate on the task on hand, for I will tell you that this farm alone can produce five hundred thousand pith of processed fungus per Quarter-Revolution: more than enough to feed a large raiding party for a Half-Revolution when properly dehydrated. It is, of course, imperative that we ensure this patch to be viable in the long term. It will ultimately come down to us to govern our House."

"Yilaria, you know that I will be by your side then as I am now." Vellithea crowed. Talilissa knew that her sister's profession of devotion was a mere formality. She would have stabbed Talilissa in the back had the occasion presented itself. Theirs was a relationship of convenience and Talilissa would have been proud if her sister would have, at some point, found the determination to dispose of her in a moment of weakness. Naturally, Talilissa did not envision herself ever falling into such feebleness. Life had been proceeding very well indeed and, for the foreseeable future, Vellithea's place was at her side or between her thighs.

"Your affection is duly noted," Talilissa said, smiling wryly, "now tell me, why is this form of food production particularly important?"

"Because, Yilaria, it is convenient under conditions of siege. Since it is located in a cavern below our House's stronghold and furthermore well connected by a system of tunnels, it could become an ideal food supply should we ever come under attack." Vellithea replied dutifully. Of course, the chances of their mighty House, with its complements of spies, assassins, mercenaries and summoned demons, ever coming under serious threat were negligible. Second Daughter Uverrille would attend to that, even if Talilissa was sceptical of her abilities. Vellithea, however, put that assessment down to resentment rather than any objective evaluation.

"Yes, very good, but you have stated the obvious. Why is it truly important?" Talilissa teased, sensing her sister's uneasiness. What Vellithea had to learn was that in drow society, there was no one answer: any answer was correct, as long as one had the strength to enforce it.

"Yilaria," Vellithea began, quickly coming to the realisation that her sister was playing games with her, "I am but your junior sister, surely my instruction is not so far progressed as to give me insight as profound as yours."

"Excellent," Talilissa crowed, closing in on her sister from behind and running an inquisitive hand up the younger priestess' silky thigh, "but my question was not mere provocation. What I meant to say was purely botanical in nature: you must know that this fungus' substrate depletion is moderate per unit of nutrition produced. It is not only a revolutionary food source, it is an efficient one as well."

"Yilaria, as always, it is your genius that guides me." Vellithea said, seeking only to flatter.

The crack of Talilissa's cane on her bottom was thus inevitable, for her older sister knew full well when others sought to ply her with beguiling words, "Guard your tongue, girl, for you are fortunate that I am your sister - in future, such craven displays of deference may cost you your head." Talilissa's tone was coldly reprimanding, though, in truth, Vellithea needed to know how to couch her words better; although sisterhood was as much competition as it was alliance for the drow - a noble Daughter's duty was always to cultivate the best possible specimens to ensure the continued glory of her House.

"Forgive me..." Vellithea whimpered, her bottom in hot, throbbing agony - Talilissa always ensured that her cane was enchanted with a Rune of Pain, "you know that I truly have much admiration for you."

"Yes, I do indeed." Talilissa snapped, "Which is why I hold you to the highest standard. Now collect yourself, it is unbecoming of a lady to show distress." Only weak, abject males ever betrayed their emotions in public. The ideal drow female, that which Vellithea would aspire to be, was cold, yet sensual, learned, yet intuitive: the society of the dark elves was one permeated by contradictions which were confirmed time and time again by the profound irrationality of drow society itself, a society whose practices were constantly bursting the boundaries of its own language.

"I understand." Vellithea said, her tone more conciliatory as she nodded in agreement. The stinging on her bottom had drifted down the fine line that separated pain and pleasure. Her heartbeat quickened; Talilissa was, despite her infuriating competence, the only woman Vellithea knew could effortlessly dominate her both in and outside the bedchamber.

"Excellent - but remember that each Revolution that goes by means that you shall have ever less space to make mistakes. Bear that in mind and learn. Your mind is sharp and your are of my blood, so I am certain that you will succeed with the right discipline."

"I am flattered, Yilaria, that such discipline is to be imparted by you." Vellithea said, gesturing subtly, almost imperceptibly with an open palm proffered to Talilissa. In the immensely intricate sign language of the drow, often the only way to publicly communicate sentiments which would otherwise, be interpreted as weakness if too openly displayed, Vellithea sought to communicate the closest thing her society had to affection.

At least, Talilissa concluded, that particular signal had been sincere. Vellithea was a good sister and a promising priestess, she just needed a little more guidance and a few well-placed punishments to make sure she never gave herself too many airs. Arrogance without the power to back it up was the ultimate foolishness and would, no doubt, swiftly result in death, "Remember that only the lesser races make their devices obvious, whether these be war for conquest or flattery for advancement. Subtlety and misdirection always triumph over the brute and the crude. Fight your battles only when you know your opponent better than she knows herself and never fully reveal your capabilities," Talilissa explained, a slight smile spreading across her violet lips as she drew Vellithea close to her, relishing in the sensation of her sister's quickening heartbeat, "not even to me."

"You know you never have to tell me anything twice." Vellithea sighed, Talilissa was already planting malicious, wet kisses down her sensitive throat.

Although Talilissa was tempted to couple with Vellithea in the reassuring embrace of the darkness of the cavern, she decided against it. She knew she needed to master her desire- that and it would set a terrible example if she were to indulge her pleasure in such a vulgar place. The delights of Vellithea's body deserved more comfortable surroundings, "Learn to contain your arousal better. There is no shortage of enemies who would exploit that - now come, I would see what wares are on offer at the Promenade of Merchants." Talilissa's tone was outwardly cold, though her warning had been somewhat tongue in cheek. The really amusing part came in taking pleasure from Vellithea's indecision: would she decide it was a joke and respond accordingly, or would she take it seriously and reply with meek deference? Either way, Talilissa thought, her sister would give her ample pretext for punishment.

*********

Fittingly, Ille-Athalath was shaped like a vast spider and the Promenade of Merchants lay in the main cavern which ran from the head - where the monumental black Great Temple of Lloth loomed over the Priestess' district - and the thorax - where the greatest Houses had their headquarters and business interests. Talilissa knew the place well, for she had recently made an excellent purchase of slaves from an Illithid merchant. Slave attrition rates were high and the establishment of privileged relations with select suppliers was consequently essential. This time, however, Talilissa's main objective was to relieve her curiosity. Underdark life yielded a never-ending parade of oddities and morbidly fascinating subjects. So, under the great spider-silk pavilion which hung over the Promenade like a predatory trap, Talilissa took her time passing through a procession of exotic stalls, Vellithea obediently three steps behind her.

On normal days, Talilissa would have preferred transport on a great, black covered litter held aloft by six muscular ogre slaves. Those leisurely trips gave her the occasion to fully appreciate what the Promenade had to offer through the enchanted curtains of the litter, which permitted its occupants to see as clearly as if through a crystal window, even if from the outside it appeared as a mantle of impenetrable darkness. On that occasion, however, Talilissa wished to immerse herself in the heady chaos of the crowded Promenade. She moved effortlessly through the crowded streets, for most passers-by, drow and non-drow alike quickly scampered out of her path. All in Ille-Ahtalath knew the vindictiveness of House Kheeleillae and Talilissa's potentially short temper. Thus, even hard-nosed duergar - or deep dwarves - with their silvery beards and iron-coloured skin shifted reluctantly to allow them passage, their heavy adamantium armour clicking with each suspicious movement.

Talilissa quickly passed by the slave pens - which held little of interest that day - and ventured into the artisan's row. Her keen aesthetic eye scrutinised row after row of exquisitely carved sacrificial knives, lamps shaped like massive tarantulas with a permanent heat-sensitive illumination enchantment emanating from their bloated abdomens - perfect for identifying invisible would-be assassins -, and a panoply of bizarre, blasphemous jewellery coupled with endless racks of scandalous, nearly obscene dresses which commanded prices more unnerving still. None of this held any particular interest for Talilissa, for she possessed all of the aforementioned articles in great quantity and much more besides. What she was fascinated by was raw life - the scuttling forms of a dozen different races mingling in a great market that combined so much obscenity with so much beauty, all punctuated by the reassuring cruelty which proved that the drow, above all races, had right of ownership over the rest of creation.

Not so for Vellithea, whose exposure to the world beyond the monotony and claustrophobic politics of her training at the Temple of Lloth had been minimal. The Promenade of Merchants drew her in, so that she craned her neck to better observe the creatures that drew back in fear and cowered in their cages. As with Talilissa, chaos and fearful confusion appealed to her. So she paused by the shop of a master jeweller - an odd, mantis-like creature whose numerous arms allowed it to simultaneously cut, shape and polish - to see if there was anything of interest.

Talilissa knew that her sister had stopped, for her ears were attuned to Vellithea's graceful tread, "Has something caught your eye, sister?"

"It is like oblivion." Vellithea said softly - Talilissa's familiar, commanding presence behind her could not shift her gaze. She had been examining a spiral brooch fashioned out of black metal and blacker stone which appeared to contain, in exquisite miniature detail, a vortex of dying light and bottomless darkness. Merely passing it by in the corner of her vision made Vellithea feel drawn to it, almost as if it were speaking to her, hypnotising her.

"Yes, quite an impressive trick." Talilissa replied indifferently, though she too found much cause to commend the exquisite craftsmanship of the jewel.

"I suspect this is what the end of the Multiverse shall be like - when chaos overtakes all and the last lights begin to die. All the beauty of eternity captured in one stone...fascinating indeed, but a trinket nonetheless..." Vellithea said, briefly allowing herself a more philosophical moment.

"Do you want it?" Talilissa inquired, her voice low to ensure no one heard her. It was common courtesy not to draw too much attention to the fact that Vellithea was the subordinate in their relationship.

"Yes." Vellithea replied. She knew well what subtle power she had over her sister.

"Then let it be yours." Talilissa declared, drawing the jeweller's attention with an understated nod of her head. It was not so much the purchase of the item which bore significance, given their House's wealth, but the fact that Talilissa had offered. It was a way of signalling that she was willing to draw Vellithea deeper into her social network.

As Talilissa paid, Vellithea could do little but handle the jewel in her hand. It felt weightless, yet it seemed to draw the light from the red irises of her eyes into a never-ending stream which led downwards into some remote dimension. Only a gentle nudge from Talilissa's hand and the clear, authoritative intonation of her voice drew Vellithea back into reality from her trance, "Put it on."

Vellithea complied and needed no help adjusting the jewel: upon contact with the fabric of her dress, the brooch projected forth a set of eight, silvery metallic legs which latched onto the weave beneath them, fastening themselves firmly without damaging the exquisite fabric.

"Outstanding." Talilissa said quietly. The brooch had been a fine investment, for she had always taken great pride in ensuring that Vellithea was worthy of representing her interests. It was wise to guarantee that a favourite lover - especially if that favourite was a sister - was every bit as elegant, capable and feared as her mistress.

"Does it not entrance you?" Vellithea inquired suddenly, her mind utterly focused on that moment of conspiratorial intimacy with her sister. In that brief frame of time, distorted by the boundless abyss of the brooch, Vellithea felt herself drawn into a trance-like state of contemplation and, all of a sudden, her sister looked more radiant than ever before. Talilissa burned with a dark, menacing sensuality in Vellithea's eyes: her flesh was an ever more magnificent, black like a sunless cavern, her eyes glorious in their imperious, deep redness, and her limbs so languid - in perfect harmony with lush curves which begged for the gentle, subservient caress of a devoted, younger sister's hands.

"Yes, but I see that I have caught your attention still more." Talilissa replied, almost disapprovingly. She was flattered, but it was not wise for her sister to be so abject in admiring another.

"Your gift has brought great pleasure to me. I was asking myself whether there was some pleasure I could offer in return." Vellithea said coyly, a thin smile drawn across her sensuous, violet lips. Her very subtle gesticulation, just a few, dextrous motions of her fingers - imperceptible even to the sharp senses of the insectoid jeweller - left no doubt about what she meant.

"Most considerate." Talilissa said softly, though, in truth, her better judgement had been clouded by superfluous thoughts. Thoughts of the miniature oblivion before her eyes and whether the jewel's value was somehow symbolic: that even in the smallest recesses of the Multiverse, there were a multitude of tiny holes into which life, light and energy would disappear leaving nothing but darkness behind. No doubt, as the High Priestesses and the Handmaidens of Lloth had prophesied in scriptures so ancient that even the all-knowing Deep Dragons could barely recall them from racial memory, when all existence ended in Chaos, all that would be left was tiny points of light adrift in a vast ocean of blackness.

Such thoughts aside, the only ocean Talilissa was truly interested in sinking into was the bittersweet sea of life between Vellithea's thighs, "So we shall make an offering to Lloth." Talilissa finally suggested, forcing herself out of her meditations. Vellithea seemed satisfied at the positive answer and signalled for her sister to lead the way.

The walk back to their House's stronghold brought them through broad avenues where the finer elements of drow society mixed, schemed and plotted - occasionally acting boldly with a well-placed assassination which could leap as easily from an assassin's poisoned blade as it could from a well placed lightning bolt released from a magic-imbued stone. Life, Talilissa reflected, was at least never boring. No drow could afford to sit on her laurels and live off the successes of her mother and sisters, for even a drow sheltered by her family's fortune would find herself victim of that same family if she failed to scheme and plot at least as well as her relatives. Thus, from the lower quarters of the new noble Houses, which had yet to fully affirm themselves and whose strongholds were therefore often little more than a ring of modest towers around a shrine to the Spider Goddess, they walked into the progressively neater and more heavily ornamented upper quarters where the elite of Ille-Athalath spun its power-hungry web.

There, near the very apex of the city, where the slender, ominous spires of the Hall of Spiders reached out, claw-like, towards the natural, rocky dome of the Underdark, the central stronghold of House Kheeleillae came into view. Magnificent were its towers of shimmering, crystal-encrusted onyx, mighty were its ramparts manned by brutish bugbear slaves in their coats of black iron, yet stunning was its beauty, for a filigree of platinum and silver ran through the black stone of the edifice, giving the impression that a colossal spider had woven a dark, wicked web across the building's surface. Talilissa was aroused - wet beyond belief. She needed Vellithea and would take her with all the force her desire merited. Each step was agonising, for with each step she felt the soft, moist skin of her inner thighs rub against the silky fabric of her dress, just as her engorged, violet nipples glided provocatively, almost to the point of outright irritation, against the luxuriant cloth which did little to cover Talilissa's perfect, dark orbs.

She walked with Vellithea as if in a daze and the corridors with their vaulted ceilings and enchanted spiderwebs, though familiar, seemed distant to Talilissa. All she could see was the sheer eroticism of her sister's movements, the swaying of her free-flowing silvery hair, the youthful buoyancy of her breasts and bottom. Despite herself - for she cursed her weakness in taking such an unconditional interest in her sister's beauty - Talilissa knew that the joys she had experienced when coupling with Vellithea would be difficult to equal. If not affection, she felt a deep, burning and needy desire for her younger sibling. By the time they had wound up contorted staircases into the House's shrine of Lloth, Talilissa's throat was parched with desire. It was lust for power as well as flesh, because each day that passed, Vellithea grew ever more accomplished. She would make a fine ally indeed.

Such was Talilissa's impatience that once in the inner sanctum of the shrine, before the great jet-stone statue of Lloth herself - in this case in the shape of a nude, life-sized drow female of sublime, malignant beauty framed by eight chitinous spider legs that sprung from her spine - she seized Vellithea, pressing her lips against her sister's in a searing, wet kiss. Vellithea countered with all the insistence that Talilissa had come to expect from her and their tongues duelled, sensuous violet lips pressed open and hungry, yielding and softly feminine, but alive with hard, savage passion. Vellithea felt herself pushed vigorously against the statue, Talilissa's hands searched her body passionately, outlining each curve, each soft swell with lustful abandon.

"This will be our offering which, after blood, is what our Goddess craves most." Talilissa said crooned, biting down hard on Vellithea's lower lip. Their kiss was renewed with the metallic flavour of flesh blood mixed with the familiar, sweet moisture of their mouths. Talilissa devoured her Vellithea's erotic, submissive lips just as she peeled the younger girl's dress down to her waist and then lower still so that it pooled in a luminous, black and silver pool around her sister's feet.

"What I crave most is your ocean of life," Vellithea sighed - she knew exactly what her sister wanted and needed, so that she did not need to be told when to tilt her head to allow Talilissa better access to suckle at her breasts, pre-empting the desires of one's superiors was an indispensable drow survival tactic -, "you know that I am honoured to drink all that you offer me."

"Yes," Talilissa hissed, tugging almost painfully at a stiff, swollen violet nipple, relishing in the warmth of Vellithea's already full, perfectly firm breasts, "so kneel and drink at my fount."

Obediently, Vellithea fell prostrate before Talilissa, easing her elder sister's ornate boots - specially enchanted to be soundless - off, and eagerly covering the impeccably delicate onyx foot beneath with lavish, adoring kisses. If there was anything that excited Talilissa, as was only proper for a drow female of status, it was subjection and Vellithea knew this. She did not dare attack Talilissa's dripping sex without the appropriate command, even if she could smell its enticing fragrance in the recesses of the spidersilk dress under which it was nestled, even if her heat-sensitive vision could detect the burning centre of her elder sister's desire. For now, she contented herself with the reassuring sensation of the lazy, scraping caresses of Talilissa's vermilion painted toenails against her flawless ebony skin. Talilissa took her time to trace the perfect curve of her sister's breasts with her toe, smiling conspiratorially to herself as Vellithea desperately tried to catch the curious digit in her mouth.

Standing imperiously in front of Vellithea, Talilissa teased a little more, noting with pleasure her sister's abject submission. When she knew that the time for patience was over, the priestess shed her own garment in one effortless gesture, much to Vellithea's welling delight. The younger initiate moved to rise to her knees, only to be rebuked a sharp slap from Talilissa, "I do not recall saying you could rise. On your belly, girl." Vellithea whimpered and obeyed, eyes fixed firmly on the cool, black stone floor of the shrine. Talilissa's coyness was torture: she felt so close yet so far from those soft, velvety violet folds, arranged with all the perfection of a poisonous bloom, so rich and so moist, dripping in sweet juice with which Vellithea could not wait to bathe her tongue and lips. With the typical passionate dedication of the dark elves, she had spent hours and hours on end, her face buried in the sodden furrow of Talilissa's sex or in the musky, fragrant crevasse of her bottom - though she knew it was weakness to admit it, Vellithea knew of no joy greater in the world than bringing her stern, talented sister to a deep, muscle wrenching orgasm.

"When your services are required, I shall let you know." Talilissa snapped haughtily. In truth, she needed Vellithea badly. So she squatted, knees wide apart, in front of her sister's prone form, the gesture deliberately wanton, almost obscene, so that her sex was split open like a plucked flower decaying in its vase, youthful, elastic sex lips so sodden that elegant droplets of bittersweet nectar had accumulated and began running in tiny rivulets down the intricate folds that Vellithea knew so well. Seizing Vellithea roughly by her silky, white mane, Talilissa thrust the prone girl's face against the spread feast of her sex. She need not have used so much force, for her obedient younger sister lunged forward with almost undignified abandon.

"You see, my sister, now Lloth can see the finest of her creations." Talilissa cooed, running a dextrous hand down the smooth, perfectly rounded hillock of her own breasts, searching for her stiff, impudent nipples to caress in rhythm with the expert lapping of her sister's tongue in the fragrant, moist valley between her thighs. Vellithea did not even volunteer a reply, all her universe was focused on the hot, dripping folds of soft, silky flesh in front of her. She did not let a single drop fall to the stony ground, for her tongue lapped with eager, diligent passion. She knew better than to force Talilissa prematurely to her peak, so she bided her time, lavishing long, sultry licks on her elder sister's innermost nether lips, yet never straying too close to stiff little bud of her clitoris which, having long slipped its tiny hood, stood as the only point of hard relief in a sea of soft wetness.

Vellithea's need was agonising too, but it was a younger sister's lot to wait. Thus she contented herself with the pleasing thrill of her stiff nipples running against the textured stone floor with each bobbing motion of her head, choosing to focus all her attention on bringing her sister to fulfilment. Talilissa had no complaints as she sat in that most obscenely erotic position, a nipple pinched firmly between two searching fingers, her eyes slitted in passion, her breath quickened by her wild heartbeat and soft, encouraging moans. Vellithea's expertise against her elder sister's perfectly hairless, exotically fragrant sex was, after all, faultless and even more so as the initiate finally decided to move in for the kill. Daring to raise a hand to hold Talilissa's nether lips even further apart, Vellithea began planting quick, stiff licks against her sister's clitoris, taking secret pleasure in the vulnerable gasps this elicited.

Ever so gently, Vellithea finally plucked up the courage to slide a single, agile finger into the sodden, bitter-sweet cove of her sister's sex. Her familiarity with the sensual map of Talilissa's body was such that it took her a few moments to plant the pad of her finger against her elder sister's most sensitive spot deep in the roiling nexus of her sex. Talilissa bit her lip - her arousal had been great even before entering the shrine of Lloth, but the prolonged, spasmodic climax that struck her was nothing she could have expected. Sensing her sister's orgasm, Vellithea teasingly scraped Talilissa's clitoris with the very tips of her teeth and readied herself for the savage, bucking motions of perfectly curved ebony hips.

Vellithea made a point of keeping her finger deep inside her sister's sex throughout the extended spasms of her climax, just to feel her arrogant, powerful mentor's body surrender to such a basic, primal need. It was a twofold reassurance to Vellithea: it proved both her sister's devotion and the fact that she was a flesh-and-blood drow, like any other. Talilissa's climax was so sharp it was almost painful, even as her sister dutifully lapped up the copious juice that still betrayed her arousal. In the priestess' mind, however, it was high time that Vellithea learned a little restraint, "Insolent girl!" She snarled, roughly tugging Vellithea up by her hair and planting a searing kiss on those beautifully full, nectar moist lips, "How dare you enter me without my assent? Embrace our Goddess and present." Talilissa ordered. Lovemaking amongst the dark elves was always half game and half danger.

Vellithea nodded submissively and complied. She wrapped her arms around the statue of Lloth, clasping the firm, unyieldingly cold stone and raising the perfectly taut, feminine globes of her bottom enticingly to her sister. Few dwellers of the surface, whose experience in the pleasures of the flesh had never extended to the drow, could ever imagine such harmonious curves on an elf; a femininity that was never overly soft and certainly not vulgar in its abundance, but sculptural, elegant, like the abdomen of a Darkweaver hunting spider. Vellithea, Talilissa was forced to admit, was a particularly excellent drow specimen. She was also sodden, her onyx-black, firm inner thighs streaked with the translucent bittersweet trails of the nectar of her arousal. In spite of her better judgement, Talilissa fell to her knees behind her sister. They would worship the Goddess together.

"You wanton girl, learn to control your excitement." Talilissa snapped, secretly pleased to see her sister dripping in the most unceremonious fashion, "Spread!"

Mewling lasciviously in exactly the tone she knew would get Talilissa's sex flowing in no time, Vellithea leaned forwards against the statue and spread her thighs as far as they would go. Her violet nether lips hung open and spread, their nectar glimmering in the muted faerie fire light of the shrine. The tight, budding violet of her anus seemed to beg for attention, nestled as it was in the perfectly smooth crease of perfect, onyx globes. Talilissa knew her sister to be a shameless little harlot for power, there was scarcely a priestess in the Great Temple which had not had the opportunity to sample the delights of her tongue - or, as the less refined initiates in Talilissa's seminary classes would have put it, Vellithea was the type that "would lick a surface elf's pussy if it got her a promotion" - drow jokes did not get much cruder than that.

Nevertheless, there was no arguing over the fact that Vellithea was enticing. That was reason enough to punish her. So Talilissa let loose two swift, sharp flicks of her cane on the deliciously firm upturned bottom before her. Vellithea's whimpering moan of pain and pleasure increased the pounding in Talilissa's chest threefold. It was only natural that she would strike out more, for the sound was absorbing, the motions of her younger sister's hips, breasts and bottom under the repeated assault of the cruel cane hypnotic. Not to be outdone by her elder sister's show of strength, Vellithea decided to draw Talilissa further down the spiral of desire. The younger hugged the statue of Lloth closer, running her tongue over the full globes of the idol's breasts up to the hollow of its vividly sculpted neck.

"Watch me worship our Goddess, Yilaria," Vellithea sighed as she settled to suckle upon a perfectly carved stone nipple, the sublime fusion of pain and pleasure from her sister's cane spurred her depravity onwards as flecks of thick, fertile nectar spattered in tiny droplets on the stone floor of the shrine, propelled by the savage impacts of the cane, "perhaps one day She will send me a Handmaiden, a yochol, so that I may show her my devotion." Slender welts, bruising a deep indigo on the submissive drow's flawless obsidian skin began to form with each unrelenting impact of Talilissa's cane: discipline no longer had anything to do with it; this was desire.

"Harlot!" Talilissa spat, casting aside her cane and falling to her knees behind her sister, "There is no priestess of the Great Temple nor Daughter of this House who has not had you. Even Odeylle, our youngest sister, confesses to having granted you her favours."

"It was her first cycle, it was time." Vellithea protested - in vain, because Talilissa's merciless tongue was already lavishing all its lustful curiosity on her eagerly spread, thickly juicing nether lips. With such bounteous, fragrant beauty nestled between perfectly formed violet petals, it was only natural for Vellithea to use her appeal to secure advancement. Deep in recesses she herself refused to contemplate, the thought of losing Vellithea's favours pained Talilissa. If her seminary studies at the Great Temple had taught her anything, however, it was that Ille-Athalath was no place for sentimentality.

Thus, Talilissa would dedicate herself to the carnal worship of her sister's magnificent form under the watchful eyes of the Spider Queen. Her tongue worked incessantly on the folds of Vellithea's sodden sex, before trailing upwards to caress the puckered violet bud of the younger initiate's bottom. Vellithea clasped the statue tighter and moaned, a dull, tingling sensation of satisfaction flowing from her tightly clasped nether portal deep into her sex. Talilissa's mouth worked tirelessly, her lips planting hungry, biting kisses on the soft, firm flesh of the onyx globes of her sister's bottom, before periodically turning its attention towards coaxing the little, puckered violet bud into full bloom. Vellithea did her best to relax, even as her lambent desire mounted deep inside her impatient loins. The itching pulsation spread further, filling her sex and bottom with almost indescribable anticipation.

Talilissa's loving, insistent licks were finally rewarded by a progressive loosening of Vellithea's nether portal, so that when the priestess tasted the familiar, almond muskiness as her tongue finally entered the tightly clasped flower, she knew it was time, "Turn around, knees against your breasts." Talilissa ordered coldly as Vellithea scrambled to comply. She lay down on the cool stone floor, her hair spread like a white, silky mantle against the feet of the statue of Lloth. The younger initiate raised her flawless legs, so statuesque they could have been carved out of living onyx, and rocked backwards, so that her knees were planted with almost agonising pressure against her stiff nipples.

"Hands around your ankles, if I see them move from there, I swear on the Goddess's Demonweb that you will not be able to sit for a dozen days." Talilissa said, a cruel smile spreading across her lips. Muttering a brief incantation, the drow priestess leaned forward and pressed her hand against the intricately carved, open sex of the statue of Lloth. Her invocation caused the sculpted nether lips to secrete a rich, dense, translucent substance, like a spicy, fragrant oil, "This," Talilissa said reverently, "is the favour our Goddess shows to our coupling. We shall honour it."

Vellithea nodded, almost delirious with desire. She held herself open and vulnerable in a most humiliating position, her hands locked around her ankles, her sex and bottom high in the air and open for Talilissa's pleasure. Just the sensation of the living warmth of her love nectar trickling forth in tiny droplets against the sensitive, loosened bud of her anus was enough to elicit a low moan. Still, Vellithea held herself open in hungry anticipation, licking her lips as she utterly surrendered herself to her sister's expert hand.

Talilissa settled between Vellithea's spread thighs. Leaning forward, she began to run her left hand gently against the gaping, wantonly presented violet sex before her, while her lubricated hand, fragrant with the blessings of the Goddess, began to tease the tiny pucker of Vellithea's bottom. Talilissa's rhythmic stroking of her younger sister's sex became almost hypnotic, a massage more than an overt stimulation - relaxing to the extent that Vellithea did not even notice the older priestess' index finger sink to the last knuckle into the moist, yielding recesses of her bottom.

"Goddess, you are hungry for it." Talilissa cooed, the tight, moist sucking sensation of her sister's budding violet was deliriously exciting. So she added two more fingers, each carefully spearing through the faint resistance of Vellithea's anal ring, before gently opening up the highly sensitive soft inner flesh therein. The younger initiate moaned, bucking her hips forward, as if begging for more. Vellithea's throat was dry with desire, her eyes cast upwards to contemplate the intricately inlaid domed ceiling of the shrine, her entire being focused on the increasingly arousing massage of Talilissa's fingers on her sopping sex and on the fourth finger that just breached the feeble defences of her obscenely spread bottom. A dull pain had begun to set in, but it was offset by a pleasure of such intensity that Vellithea was willing to set all discomfort aside.

Or so she thought, because Talilissa's sensual cruelty could surprise even the drow. Vellithea gasped in agonised surprised as she felt her sister suddenly flare the fingers now nestled deep in her bottom, stretching her horrendously. The fluid Talilissa had summoned forth had the effect of greatly magnifying all sensations, including pain and, much to her shame, Vellithea could not prevent a couple of stray tears from falling down her elegantly sculpted cheeks.

"Look at you," Talilissa taunted, twisting her fingers savagely inside the moist, sucking flesh of her sister's bottom, "you are but a child. The women of this House certainly do not weep." Vellithea could only whimper in reply. Her blood had become like slow moving lava, burdened with the unfulfilled heat of frustrated desire.

"Allow me to teach you discipline." Talilissa said, her cruel smile now spread fully across her lush, violet lips. The drow priestess finally began working her thumb into her sister's stretched, overstuffed bottom. Her movements were slow, methodical, careful not to damage so much as extract every single second of pain and pleasure from the experience. They were certainly in no hurry. But when the final knuckle popped in the faltering barrier of Vellithea's now fully flowering, and deflowered, violet bud, all the junior priestess could do was draw a ragged moan of resignation as the rest of her sister's hand thrust in – one agonising inch at the time - only to be stopped at the wrist by a vigorous, desperate clamping of her anus.

Vellithea knew that her climax was but moments away, she could feel it in the sublime sensation of Talilissa's fingers pressing against that vulnerable flesh deep within her sex through the flimsy membrane that separated it from her abundantly filled bottom. For her part, Talilissa revelled in the soft, welcoming moisture and heat of her sister's bowels and took more pleasure still from the anguished look of sheer ecstatic agony that had spread across Vellithea's face.

"Good, my sister, you have earned your reward, you may be at ease now." Talilissa invited with uncharacteristic generosity and Vellithea was all too happy to release her ankles and wrap her legs around her sister's back. A few final harsh thrusts from both of Talilissa's hands sent Vellithea spiralling into an agonising climax - both her sex and bottom clamped down savagely, but to no avail, for the older priestess would not allow her intruding hand to be ejected. Even in the throes of toe-curling, gut wrenching pleasure which echoed in high, barking gasps throughout the shrine, Vellithea felt the agony of her defeated, contracting bottom around Talilissa's wrist and the continued teasing of her sister's skilful fingers deep inside the tight, slick, overstuffed passage.

"A final lesson, sister," Talilissa said wickedly, "never leap to conclusions about the good will of others." Too late did Vellithea realised that her older sister had released a tiny, magical dart of force deep into her spasming sex. The tiny, shimmering projectile forced its way through the saturated inner folds before crashing savagely against the inner walls of the younger drow's contracting canal. Much to Talilissa's amusement, Vellithea let out a low, keening wail of release at a second, less vital climax, before realising - mortified beyond belief - that the series of muscular contractions generated by her sister's sorcery had caused her to empty her bladder in long, clear squirts. Vellithea could only bite her lower lip in shame as the fluid squirted copiously over Talilissa's breasts, belly and sex, whilst the last few spurts flowed down her own nether lips and inner thighs. It took a few moments for the salty trickle, which carried the faint scent of herbs, to subside.

Talilissa's torso, sex and thighs were soaked, "How remiss of you sister, but I am afraid that this is not going to clean itself up. I suggest that you personally take charge of this task..." She jerked her hand hard and fast out of her Vellithea's bottom, causing her sister gasp in mixed pain and relief.

Vellithea did not need further encouragement – it was all part of her sister's artistry to be able to humiliate her to such an arousing effect. Talilissa simply lay back against the familiar, stone floor and allowed her sister to quickly and thoroughly lick up the residue of their lovemaking combined with the oddly fragrant issue of Vellithea's bladder, "And when you finish," Talilissa continued, sighing softly as Vellithea obediently gathered up every savoury drop of her copious spill from her older sister's flat, taut belly before moving down to passionately service spread nether lips, now wetter than ever before, "perhaps I shall give you the honour of sampling the delights of my arachnid statuette."

Lloth, Talilissa reflected, must be having an excellent view: the beautiful Vellithea - who would be more beautiful still in a few Revolution's time - her perfect obsidian skin slick with sweat, her taut bottom spread to reveal her gaping, well-used violet bud still slick and dripping with divine lubricant, her sex lusciously moist and swollen, sodden with fragrant love nectar and something more shamefully exciting still...

"Mistresses!" The snivelling male voice broke Talilissa's reverie. Her fury was immediate.

"Worm of a male! If this intrusion is not justified, your heart will beat on the cold stone palm of our Goddess before your next breath." She snapped venomously.

"I beg your indulgence, Mistresses, but our enemies assail our House." The male blubbered. He was the effete, but relatively effective Keeper of the Chambers.

"What? Why did Uverrille not warn the Matron-Mother?" Talilissa's red eyes burned with indignant rage.

"She, our esteemed Second Daughter, was deceived, oh Mistresses." The Keeper of the Chambers wailed.

"Imbecile!" Talilissa snarled, her heartbeat rising. If the attack had already commenced and the priestesses of the House were not in position to command, deliberate and summon demonic allies, even a powerful House like Kheeleillae was in danger of falling, "Sister, clothe yourself, we go to the Observation Tower."

*************

The situation was as desperate as Talilissa feared. Though her Matron-Mother and her sisters had sought to placate Lloth's disfavour with the sacrifice of Uverille, the remiss daughter, and her equally inept lover, the Spider Queen had given no signal in the condition of the sacrificed drow's liver, nor any divinatory clue in the thickness of her arterial blood or the consistency of her spleen. As was customary, the sacrifice was performed while the victims were still alive, bound in agony as their hearts were torn out of their breasts and their wombs sliced open in the hope that its inner walls would yield some clue. The sacrifice of two noble females was a ritual act of the foremost importance, but Lloth remained silent, seemingly satisfied with the imminent fate of House Kheeleillae. In desperation, the noble females of the House had returned to their posts, even as the outer ramparts were breached.

Talilissa had the luxury of observing all this from the Sanctum of Arcana with Vellithea, as ever, by her side. Talilissa's hands were still stained with the live blood of her sister, though the woman's sacrifice had brought no regret. The weak and the foolish paid with their lives. That had been the way of the glorious drow race for millennia. That, by extension, would be the fate of a House that had placed its trust in a weak head of intelligence and espionage. Talilissa had always suspected that the rather inane Uverille had owed her high rank to the accident of her birth and to her ability to pre-empt the Matron-Mother desires both in the throne chamber and the bed chamber.

Now, from the mighty Surveillance Sphere in the Sanctum, where the finest magical items in the possession of her House were stored, Talilissa was charged with issuing any last ditch summoning of demonic allies to ensure that the invaders paid for every inch of ground they seized in blood. In that moment, however, the priestess was more preoccupied with the vision of the ongoing battle the Surveillance Sphere provided. The House stronghold had been attacked simultaneously by three separate, allied forces of jealous Houses whose coalition Uverille had failed to detect before it was too late. Before Talilissa's appalled eyes, the elite halberd-wieldiing hyena-headed gnoll infantry of House Gussenein-Olleth hewed a bloody path through what remained of Kheeleillae's first-line drow household retainers. That force, consisting of specially-trained males had fought commendably, but their superior finesse with the blade was given no space for manoeuvre against the barbaric slave troops deployed against them. They fell by the moment; limbs hacked off, torsos split open like rotting vegetables, heads crushed to one side under a spray of brain and bone.

Vellithea was pacing nervously up and down the Sanctum. Those very motions had begun to irritate Talilissa. All was clearly lost. Grandeur, however, was never ever-lasting. Lloth's banishment from the bright and good lands of the goddesses and gods of the surface elves was ample proof of this. Now, the second, inner rampart fell and a detachment of grey-skinned kua-toa - whose likeness is that of a bipedal, predatory fish - mercenaries began to pound on the ornate main gate with mighty spiked war-hammers and adzes carved from steel-hard coral.

"How does your intuition counsel you, Yilaria?" Vellithea inquired tensely. She had been absentmindedly stroking a large, meticulously organised pile of magical scrolls and parchments.

"It counsels me better when you are not distracting me." Talilissa snapped. Vellithea tilted her head dejectedly to one side - her sister's reprimands had always hurt her more than those of her senior priestesses.

Talilissa's mind worked furiously - the six-armed serpent demons her Matron-Mother had summoned had managed to stave off a full frontal assault on the main stronghold complex for a while. They would not last long. Talilissa's carefully-attuned magical sense told her that the Third Daughter of her House - by far its most accomplished field commander - had already perished in the thick of the fighting and that her corpse had been despoiled by triumphant enemy forces and was being hoisted up, half charred and half flayed, on a blackened metal spike. Then it struck her - if all was lost, she would gate out to another dimension. What she would do from thence was undecided. In that precise instant - just as a wave of crossbow bolts mowed down what remained of Kheeleillae's bugbear slave regiment right in the central courtyard by the great fountain of the House's Founding Mother - all that mattered was survival.

"Vellithea, find the gate scroll. The one that has been scribed so as to be impervious to portal-sealing magic." Talilissa ordered, stripping her Phase Spider silk dress off and hastily donning a more functional piwafi protective cloak and tunic outfit.

"Certainly, Yilaria." Vellithea said, almost enthusiastically as she began leafing quickly and efficiently through the magical tomes stacked high by a rack of enchanted crossbows. Her sister's foresight knew no end. Whatever Talilissa had in mind, it was certainly better than ending her days on the front lines of combat. Wars between drow Houses ended only when one was utterly obliterated, when all its progeny was extirpated from existence and its stronghold consigned to a bottomless chasm of a sunless sea.

"Faster!" Talilissa ordered, her voice almost breaking under the tension. Time was undoubtedly of the essence.

"Here it is," Vellithea interjected excitedly as she tore out the requisite page from an otherwise unassuming tome - she imagined that the enchanted parchment had been stored in a low-profile volume to prepare for exactly a contingency such as the one she and her sister currently faced, "should I change too, Yilaria?"

"Idiot girl," Talilissa snarled, "the incantation will in all probability fail if it is made to carry two across the Weave."

"But..."

"Take your chances, surrender. You are pleasing and relatively inoffensive, surrender to the first priestess you see and throw yourself at her mercy." Talilissa said coldly. She seized the parchment from Vellithea's trembling hands. Its wording was arcane, but thankfully, there were no symbols which appeared too unfamiliar. Even if her pronunciation was to be approximative, she would be out of the jaws of certain death in the blink of an eye.

"Yilaria, have you ever heard of a priestess accepting the surrender of a fellow priestess of a defeated House?" Vellithea countered desperately. There was no point trying to wrest the parchment from Talilissa - her sister was stronger, more experienced and - most importantly - she actually knew how to activate the gate enchantment.

"What do you expect me to do? Either one lives or we both die." Talilissa replied matter-of-factly. The Surveillance Sphere brought more grim news, the kua-toa vanguard had powered its way into the main hall in front of the throne chamber. Talilissa estimated that there were perhaps two hundred ranged against fifty household guards. Had House Kheeleillae been given more time, they would have riddled the stronghold with traps and the first assault of enemy slaves and mercenaries would have been blunted. Now, however, the renowned marksmanship skills of Kheeleillae's males proved worthless in the cramped, indoor quarters as they were torn, literally limb from limb, by the blood-crazed fish-men.

"Would you leave me?" Vellithea finally breathed desperately, "Would you abandon your favourite, who has always been by your side - even when it would have been more advantageous for me to seek greater or more influential allies?"

"Between my favourite and my life, I choose my life." Talilissa retorted. She felt a sudden emotional jerk somewhere in the back of her mind, but decided to sideline it. Such raw emotion had no place in a crisis situation.

"Yil...Talilissa, sister..." Vellithea said softly, almost inaudibly and - for a moment - the din of battle from the Surveillance Sphere subsided. All Talilissa could feel was Vellithea's hand desperately clutching her own - that grip, that warmth was more than need, more than desperation...there was something else entirely there and Talilissa could not quite place.

So, like the good drow she had been brought up to be, Talilissa clutched the enchanted parchment tightly in both hands and read the words of power so that each individual symbol began to glow in a lambent, blue flame as it was pronounced. By the time the final symbol was pronounced a ring of shimmering blue energy had formed a tear in space and bridged the gap between dimensions. A magical gate yawned open; to look into it was to look into maddening infinity.

"If the Goddess smiles upon you, you shall live. You were never short of talent." Talilissa said, approaching the gate. The sounds of a desperate battle, filled with the dying gasps and wounded howls of the brutalised and dying filled the air, only to be distorted by the Weave-warping magic around the gate to sound more like moans from beyond the grave. Vellithea stood to one side, stunned into speechlessness. Fortunes were indeed made and lost in a day.

"I..." Vellithea began, rage, desire and regret mingling into a distinctly unstable emotional compound. Then she realised that there was nothing more to lose in an open declaration of devotion, "I shall die with the brooch you gave in my hand and your name on my lips. Any drow would be proud to have a sister such as you." With that Vellithea seized a wickedly curved silver shortsword from the weapons rack and resolved to fall fighting.

Talilissa could only nod in assent and step through the gate. It was her first great leap into the unknown, but the drow were natural gamblers: with every closed door came an open window. In that moment, she also realised that Vellithea had resolved to live and die as befitted a drow noblewoman of the finest birth. That was to be her sister's last, belated gesture of obedience - the final illustration that all of Talilissa's lessons about life and fate and Underdark had gone heeded.

What Talilissa could never forgive her sister for was the fact that Vellithea, in a moment of weakness, had made a request which had laid bare yet another deep and meticulously concealed weakness. This weakness was the unstable shape of need and desire in Talilissa's mind as well as her heart and soul - the truly, maddeningly unforgivable thing was that Vellithea's pleading had actually generated something utterly new, dangerous and unexpected in her sister's mind. For a brief instant, perhaps the briefest of measurable moments or perhaps an interval of time briefer still, Talilissa had wanted to take Vellithea into her arms and dive through the gate together.

Author's Note: Talilissa's story continues in the Sigil series (that commences with the Preludes) by the same author and also stored in this Archive.