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The wizard clapped Ryld on the shoulder and said； 〃Play。 Amuse yournotself。 Win their gold。 Just remember to make conversation while you're at it。 See what you can learn。 Meanwhile； I'll try my luck in the cellar。〃
Ryld nodded。
Pharaun navigated his way across the crowded room to the bar。 Behind it on a stool sat wizened； one…legged Nym； an elderly male who for sheer surly； unwavering misanthropy rivaled any demon the Master of Sorcere had ever conjured。 The old retired battle mage was happily engaged in snarling threats； obscenities； and orders at the goblin thralls pouring drinks； but he grudgingly suspended the harassment long enough to accept a handful of gold。 In return； he tendered a worn； numbered leather tab with several keys attached。
Thus equipped； Pharaun walked through the arch beside the bar and down another flight of steps。 At the bottom waited the real business of the Jewel Box and the reason Nym had not seen fit to hang a placard outside。
In Menzoberranzan； where a goddess and her priestesses reigned supreme； few female dark elves ever found it necessary to sell their bodies。 Only a handful of the sick and infirm； dwelling in the most abject need； had ever stooped to such a degradation。 Accordingly； one might assume that any male wishing to purchase intimate panionship would find his choice limited to these rare unappealing specimens or the females of one of the inferior species。
But that wasn't quite the case； at least not if a male had a heavy purse。 The reason was that； while they generally devoted their military efforts to fighting cloakers； svirfneblin； and other peting civilizations of the Underdark； drow cities on rare occasions waged war on one another。 Once in a while； such conflicts yielded female prisoners。
The prudent； legitimate thing to do with such potentially dangerous captives was interrogate； torture； and kill them。 That fact notwithstanding； Nym had on several occasions managed to bribe officers to give him their prisoners； whom he then smuggled into Menzoberranzan and down to the cellar of the Jewel Box。
Nym had gone to all this trouble based on the shrewd and well…proven assumption that a goodly number of Menzoberranyr males would pay handsomely for the privilege of dominating a female； and in his establishnotment； one could do anything one wanted with a captive。 Nym would even provide a customer with a bastinado； a brazier of coals； thumbscrews 。 。 。 his only stipulation being that one must pay a surcharge if one left a pernotmanent mark。
Since the brothel's existence was an open secret； Pharaun wasn't sure why the matron mothers hadn't shut it down。 On the face of it； it certainly seemed to encourage disrespect for the ruling gender。 Perhaps they felt that if a male had a refuge in which to act out his resentments； it would make him all the more deferential to the females in his home。 More likely； Nym was slipping them a substantial portion of the take。
At any rate； the Jewel Box seemed a reasonable place to seek informanottion concerning rogue males； especially if one had a spy in place。 Pharaun wasn't confident that he did anymore； but one never knew。
The stairs emptied into a hallway of numbered doors。 Moans of pasnotsions and grunts of pain sounded faintly from behind several of them。 It was busier than usual。
The mage strolled down the passage until he found number fourteen。 He hesitated for an instant； then scowled and turned the largest of his keys in the lock。 The door swung open。
Seated on the bed； shackles clutching her wrists and ankles； Pellanistra looked much as he remembered； the same powerful； shapely l