Exton

Nathlyn stands in the darkness, brooding, smarting from the lash of the Priestess' words.

"You are an incompetent fool, Nathlyn, and your followers are equally incompetent. I ask you to find a way to re-acquire that gargoyle bitch and to get me a gargoyle child - and all you can bring me are your pathetic excuses! 'They are too closely watched.' 'She is never alone' Is this the best that the goddess can inspire in you, Nathlyn?" Her lip curls scornfully. "Well, I promise you that you will serve the goddess - whether as servitor or sacrifice; the choice is yours." She turns her back and walks out. "Don't make me wait, Nathlyn."

She knows nothing. She sits safe and aloof in her inner chambers and she does not see the difficulties that such an action entail. She has not seen their patrols, she knows nothing of the beings that we face. This obsession with the gargoyles will come to no good end, but it is suicide to tell her so. She is convinced of her own rightness and she is blind to all the facts that would contradict her pleasant, self-centered fantasies. He pauses, considering. Can I use that? Can I show that she does this, not for the glory of the goddess, but for her own personal glory? He scowls. And if you could, fool, who is there who would stand with you? Who would dare testify against Lolth's Priestess? They are all terrified of her....

His thoughts go round and round, and he can find no way out of this predicament - save possibly one. It is fraught with danger, but it can hardly be more dangerous than waiting for Ardara's patience to wear thin.

If something were to happen to the Priestess - something incapacitating, or Lolth forbid, fatal - there would be a new Priestess, one without this particular obsession. He considers it, his face giving away nothing. His smile, though, is unpleasant to behold....