The Shadow of Lolth

A whisper in a dark corner of the camp..."Velg...Larn..."

Shadow, or Barra as the fellow Ilythiiri call him now, looks around warily, and, strange for him, cannot spot who is talking to him. It must be the wind playing tricks on a tired jaluk. His abbil Yarblek, sitting close to him and drinking avidly from his flask (the third in the last two hours), does not react...he did not hear..."Ussa hears are playing tricks on Usstan..."
Then, suddenly, the voice comes back...nothing more than a whisper, hardly audible even for the trained spy's sense of hearing: "Usstan have a task for dos, Velg'Larn...keep this safe ((an object, looking like a small crystal jar, materializes at the edge of the long table. Barra is sure there was nothing there just a moment ago...)), by the Shadow of Lolth's command...this, will be one of many tasks...do not fail the Shadow of Lolth, Velg'Larn..."
Confused, Barra quickly grabs the jar, which vanishes into his dark robes. Yarblek keeps drinking, and for the first time in over 400 years of life, he considers a sip as well...

yarblek burps loudly and sways back and forth to the tune of his favorite drinking song. Every now and again in between sips from the fine silver flask she slurs a stanza out.
"If all the young jalil were fine silks and laces, And usstan were an iron ussa'd sit on their faces."