The Ranger grinned and opened the door for her, “Uma Moira, nothing to report out here but silence and darkness.. yer up late.. busy night again it seems, eh?”

She smiled at the courtesy, stopping just inside the door, “It seemed to gain as the night wore on.. ahh well.. can’t complain about good business I suppose; even tho it does make my nights too long and days too short. Diola lle Galen. Get some rest yourself, you hear?” With that she ducked back inside as Galen closed the door quietly behind her.

The darkest hour they say is just before the dawn. In that darkness, three pairs of eyes watched the exchange between the ranger and barkeep from different locations around the front of the Arrow. A hooded shadow detached itself from the space between the stable and corner of the tavern and crept silently along the west end of the Arrow, keeping low and just below the windows to avoid detection. The shape moved to the window in the rear, peeking cautiously inside. Dark. Empty. Around the corner and along the north wall the figure continued, checking each window there as well. All was quiet. Perfect.

Vaerlyr’ra watched the east side of the Arrow from the treeline, waiting for the creeping shadow to appear. Makhila's voice in her mind calmed her, and assurred the drowess that the timing would be impeccable. She could not see the third conspirator, on guard and wrapped in shadows as she was, but she was there, the mindspeak confirmed it.

At last, Vaerlyr’ra saw Drax’l’s shadowy form come around the northeast corner and approach slowly. Once he was near the front of the building he flattened himself against the wall; this was the signal. “Nin..” the voice spoke, and Vaerlyr’ra pulled her piwafwi close about her and stepped out of the trees, her stride taking her slowly but steadily towards the Ranger on guard there. About fifteen feet from him she groaned, moaning softly, and then fell to her knees, one hand outstretched as she spoke in a croaking whisper, “Help..me… p-please….” She fell to her side and lay still.

Galen heard the groan and saw the figure, wondering for a moment how he’d missed her approach, but as she fell with a plea for help, he dismissed the thought and rushed to her side. He knelt quckly and turned her over, it was a drow! Suddenly, her eyes opened. The drowess grabbed his tunic, then looked up into his face and smiled widely, whispering a single word, “Vendui.” And his world went black.

Drax’l had watched Vaerlyr’ra’s approach and fall. When Galen had knelt by her, he closed the distance quickly. With a knee in the ranger’s back, Drax’l clamped one hand to the ranger’s mouth, then pressed the fist of his other hand against Galen’s juglar vein. His ring, and the fast-acting sleep poison contained inside it, did the rest. The elf went limp in his arms and they dragged his body between the two buildings and left it in the shadows.

As the veldriss Mahkila joined them from her hiding spot in the trees, Drax’l swept his hood back and unwrapped the black scarf from around his head that had previously concealed all of his face but his eyes. With a quick glance at Vaerlyr’ra and a nod to Makhila, Drax’l opened the door and the three drow stepped inside the Silver Arrow.

Moira looked up as the door opened, momentarily startled at such late guests. More unnerving though was seeing three drow facing her, two females and one male, all garbed in dull red cloaks that shifted strangely in the light. They all bowed and smiled warmly, putting her at ease. Vaelyr'ra stepped forward, she nodded politely then spoke in broken common, “ Vendui miss.. fear naut…udos have… travelled long. Usstan hope it is nau… inconvenience… to ask dos for some drink.. and a small bite to eat?”

Moira wiped her hands on her apron and smiled back at them, “Of course not, we are closed, but weary travellers are always welcomed and served, no matter the time. The cook has left for the night, but please have a seat and I will see to your needs..” She bowed and left them, and hurried off to the kitchen.

“Bel’la dos..” Vaerlyr'ra answered as she departed. Vaerlyr'ra and Makhila took stools on one side of the bar, while Drax'l sat apart from them on the other. When Moira returned from the kitchen and was occupied behing the bar, the two females whispered together, Makhila was turning a mug in her hands. A sudden involuntary jerk caused the mug to slip from her hands and fall to the floor behind the bar with a crash. “Ach! Usstan am sorry!” Makhila cried.

“N'uma n'uma, it’s not a problem, happens all the time.” Moira smiled and reassured her, then crouched to clean up the shards.

Drax'l slipped behind the bar. “Here, let ussa help.” he said quietly.

“Diola lle..” Moira replied, smiling up at him. She then turned back to resume her task. His hand covered her mouth suddenly, jerking her head back, and her eyes widened as she looked up to see the two drowess’ smiling down at her over the edge of the bar. Confusion and surprise mingled with fear, but she had no time to contemplate their meaning as something pricked her neck and darkness overcame her…