Out of the Abyss [5e IC]

[Wheaton's Whelp]

https://melsmifgames.files.wordpress.com/2015/12/travel-settlement.png

Captured by the drow!

You wouldn’t wish this fate upon anyone, yet here you are- locked in a dark cave, the cold, heavy weight of metal tight around your throat and wrists. You are not alone. Other prisoners are trapped in here with you, in an underground outpost far from the light of sun. Two torches beyond the steel gate cause dim, flickering light within the cave. You’ve not had much time to become accustomed to your new surroundings…

Bryn: 4 Days; Surly: 10 Days; Rafe: 5 Days; Shizuka: 8 Days; Nahlia:: 2 Days

In this time, it has become clear the drow intend to sell you as slaves, or perhaps pets, to the inhabitants of the Underdark. The days are filled with menial tasks under the close watch of your captors. During the labor-filled excursions out of your slave pen, you’ve seen the drow outpost, Velkynvelve, resides nestled into a cavern wall: high above a rocky floor and dense web of giant spiders. A handful of caves and hanging towers fashioned out of stalactites make up the outpost: to the North lies the slave pen and a quaggoth servant den, while to the South are stalactite towers for higher ranking drow, as well as a Lolth Shrine, and further barrack space. Towards the end is a lone lift to reach the rocky floor. A roaring waterfall feeds a pool beneath Velkynvelve, but thick webbing and the low-light obscure sight too much to see where the pool actually resides.

Not content with going quietly forward as a slave, you’ve managed to get your hands on…

Bryn: a rusty iron bar which could be used as a club
Surly: shard of flint sharp enough to be used as a dagger
Rafe: has made friends with a small spider
Shizuka: found a single gold coin
Nahlia:: 5' of silk rope

You’ve Identified Mistress Ilvara of House Mizzryn as your hostess. Over the past several days, you’ve met with her several times, robed in silken garments and flanked by two male drow: one of whom has a mass of scars along one side of his face and neck. Mistress Ilvara likes to impress her will with scourge in hand and remind you that your life now belongs to her. ”Accept your fate, learn to obey, and you may survive.” Her words echo into your memory, even as you plot your escape.

[spinningdice]

As in most of her life, Nahalia adopts an impassive mask, showing no trace of resistance or defiance, but no fear either. She studies the other prisoners, trying to evaluate their strengths and motivation. None of them seemed the type to roll over and accept the fate of the slave.
She speaks in hush tones to the others "If any of you are looking for a way out of here, we should try to find an opportunity quickly. As dificult as it may be to break from this place, wherever they take us will be doubtless more so."

[Ramsus]

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1d/3b/55/1d3b55ad18395298d7f8fe2e31051b99.jpg
Bryn Marble (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1113943)
Half-Elven Stone Sorcerer, Agent of the Order of the Gauntlet
Concentrating on: --

Bryn, who has the entire time she's been here had the appearance of something like a living marble statue, looks to the others. They've been getting more and more worn out as the days go on. The same goes for her as well of course. Now that she has a weapon, it's probably soon time to make an escape. But first it might be a good idea to raise morale.

In a bright warm voice she replies, "I agree. You all sure look like capable people to me. I'm sure we can get out of this if we work together. It occurs to me we haven't made introductions yet. I am Bryn Marble. A member of the Order of the Gauntlet. A bit of a strange one perhaps as I'm a sorcerer by nature. So how about the rest of you?" She finishes turning her friendly smile on each person individually.

[Esprit15]

"Unless you have a materials pouch or your arcane focus on you, I don't care if you're a damn archwizard," says the dark haired half elf nearby, neck and wrists clearly raw from struggling uselessly against the chains. She doesn't look defeated by any sense, just angry. Her eyes dark around the room at anything that might be useful. "When should we act?" she says more quietly, in the direction of the aasimar. "When they feed us?"

[Wheaton's Whelp]

Eyes dart around the room, searching for someone to step up and begin an introduction; most eyes land on the small, grey-skinned derro pacing back and forth within the cell. While not bald, the derro carries most of his faded, white hair upon his chin.

(Buppido)”Ah! A chance for introductions!” The derro mumbles to himself for a bit and changes the direction of his pacing. (Buppido)”The name’s Buppido, humble denizen of this er’ locale.” Buppido looks at a handful of the cellmates and continues, “… unlike some here. Welcome, on behalf of the Underdark.” He cackles out a laugh.

Out of the corner of the room and lumbering figure moves forward, beast-like in appearance. However, when it steps into light the golden etching to finely embroidered cloth shines in the lamp light. You recognize the frame and fangs of a quaggoth, much like the drow’s servants, but standing straight with the posture of a Lord. (Prince Derendil)”Pleasure to you. I know the connotations towards my appearance can be… negative, however I assure you I am as elven as you” The quaggoth motions towards the Elven features within the pen. “I am Prince Deredil, of the Kingdom Nelrindenvane in the High Forest. I was the subject of experimentation at the hands of the drow, cursed to this animalistic form.” With a bow, the Prince returns to the shaded wall and reprises his previous slumped lean.

Near the entrance a soft, but steady voice reaches out, (Eldeth)”Ey, Eldeth Feldrun of Gauntlgrym. Those from the surface might be familiar with the city- lots of trade in and out. I was… or am, a member of the Gauntlgrym Guard, primarily reconnaissance.” Eldeth looks directly at those clearly unfamiliar with the Underdark, (Eldeth) There be corruption within this dark hallow, don’t go too quick into trusting.” She scans the room. A slight tension builds as a short still fills the cell.

(JimJar)”I’d wager 20 gold she’s the one to put a dagger in your back.” The deep gnome shifts forward, one arm extended as it sweeps the room looking for takers. With no-one seemingly taking the bet he lurches forward an poses, “Call me JimJar, but for anything more I expect riddle or coin... just coin. Or bets better yet!”

As JimJar begins to round the room looking for takers on his bet, a robed figure with visible scales steps forward. Although dry, the figure has the fragrance of the Darklake and has a constant sheen of moisture to him. ”Welcome, new and old. Some know but I am Shuushar, but those close to me know me as Shuushar the Awakened, for I have found balance within the hermit life. The hustle and bustle of Kuo-toa life no longer drain me, for I am vowed to a life of harmony, and free of want. Having found enlightenment, it is my duty to bring the word of my tranquility to others, and to my people.”

There is a pause as no one moves forward to speak, eyes begin to dart around once more. Suddenly, a small creature, whom some mistaken for furniture, bumbles forward. In the center of the cell the mushroom-like creature sits, then, seemingly sneezes a cloud of odorless spores within the pen. A handful of individuals attempt to swat away the spores, but to no effect. It is quiet again. Visibly upset a brutish Orc stands and swiftly punts the creature against the far wall. (Ront)”Ront… let this stand as I don’t like others messing with me.”

(Stool)*cough* *cough* “I’m sorry Ront, the spores can take a second…” The room hears a high-pitched voice, but no one appears to be talking. The small, mushroom creature makes its way back to the center. (Stool)”I’m Stool! I can’t talk, but we myconids talk through spores.” It is clear Stool is having difficulty communicating after the kick, as he makes his way to Bryn and cuddles against her.

(Buppido)”Ah yes, and the other three are more likely to dive into the spider’s webs than do an introduction. That terrifying drow with the sad look on his face is Sarith, a drow so murderous even the murder loving drow stuck him in the slave pen. And the two scrappy looking deep gnomes are Topsy and Turvy. I never really know which is which, but they’re so quiet it is practically interchangeable.” Buppido’s gaze moves back towards Bryn and Nahalia,”So please continue, how do you see us getting out of her? No weapons, out-numbered, and this little pen has an anti-magic field. You may be new and optimistic, they always are when they first arrive, but I can guarantee you’re not the first to have these ideas. If you want to see the others who had the same idea, just peak in some of the cocoons below.”

Photo of Crew (http://imgur.com/DNP56gB)

[spinningdice]

"As much as prefer an open approach, stealth and deceit are more likely to win this endeavor. We need to escape without drawing the attention of the nobles above, if we can. A prolonged fight would allow the odds to build against us. As for myself I am Nahalia, a sorcerer - though don't dismiss me as useless without my focus, I can do many things without it. Stealth and guile though are not my strong suite." Nahalia does her best to project confidence and inspire the assembled folk.

[n0ble]

Surly tried to stifle an irritated yelp as the mushroom he'd been sitting on upended him and started talking, alongside. He rolled his eyes at the thing as the big orc punted it back. Such obvious displays of strength might work on the others, but not him. It only made him even more irritable. Ten days he'd been down in this camp, watching new people get dumped in here along with the other refuse of civilization. Still, at least some of the occupants were about his size. Meant he might have a shot at bossing them about, should it come down to it. They all certainly looked an expendable lot, from the barking mad derro to the philosophizing fish man. Idiots.The lot of them.

He righted himself, hands wandering to the sticker that he'd found amidst all the other rocks. It gave him some measure of reassurance, yet made the goblin apprehensive at the same time. Someone might come at him for the weapon. Like the big orc or silent drow. Surly hawked a gob of phlegm on the ground, not bothering to dust himself off. He made note of the gnome's wager, thinking forward to taking any gold that people had on them. Could come in handy for buying his own passage somewheres once the rest of the people sprung him from here.

Otherwise Surly listened to everyone else talking about escape, nodding at what seemed reasonable or offering silence on truly audacious ideas. Not like they'd all listen to anything a goblin had to say anyways.


Italicized Surly's thoughts.

[Ramsus]

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1d/3b/55/1d3b55ad18395298d7f8fe2e31051b99.jpg
Bryn Marble (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1113943)
Half-Elven Stone Sorcerer, Agent of the Order of the Gauntlet
Concentrating on: --

"It's nice to make your acquaintances." Bryn response with a smile, seemingly not bothered by the other half-elf's harsh words. She pats Stool on the head tentatively, as is seems he might appreciate the comforting gesture, but she doesn't want to be too strong with it as she's not 100% sure about that. She then pulls the iron bar out from under her shirt and holds it forth and declares, "Well I could make fairly good use of this. And I think we'll outnumber whatever drow next show up. If some of you are willing to risk getting your hands bitten to hold a few mouths closed, we could hold them still and deal with them in here, hopefully out of sight and without them being able to shout for help or cast spells. Then those of us who think they might have a fair chance of sneaking about and finding where they've taken our things could scout around. If we're spotted, I think it's a better idea to stick together than split up. I'm sure that's how they expect escapees to act and are more prepared to shoot one or two people in the back at a time than they are for people charging straight at them. Though of course if we can, remaining unseen would be best."

Having a sudden thought she looks down to Stool and asks, "Does this um.... method of communication you have work both ways? Could we all just speak to each others minds? Is there a certain range to it?"


Insight check to tell which of the NPCs might be lying/obscuring the truth: [roll0]
Perception check to see if any of the NPCs might be carrying items that might be of use that they haven't shown: [roll1]

[Wheaton's Whelp]

Stool, seemingly recovered from Ront's swift boot, pushes up and away from Bryn. (Stool)"It takes a little practice, but anyone with the spores can use the spores. It is natural to me, but all others have to do is focus their thoughts. Careful though," Stool breaks and stares at Surly for a second, (Stool)"As you can send thoughts to everyone without meaning to..."

[Esprit15]

"You expect us to trust a drow?" the half elf says, scoffing at the idea. "Not just a drow, but a drow that even the drow can't trust to keep his dagger stowed for a few moments?" She pauses for a few moments and sighs, looking over the group. Not a good place to be, but it could be worse. She could be alone, after all. At least more people meant more ideas to toss around, and more force to keep backstabbers in line.

"Though... I suppose he wants out just like any of us would, if only to continue to stab more of his brethren. Buppido, you sound like you've seen some of these planned escapes fail before. What stopped them? Overwhelming force? Bad planning? It's fine to be a naysayer, but it helps when you can give something to build off of."
Insight check on the drow, see whether he seems like the type to stab us in the back at the first chance, or whether he reserves that for other drow: [roll0]
In sight on Buppido's answer to Shizuka's question, assuming he answers it: [roll1]

[Wheaton's Whelp]

(Sarith)"You've spooked them Buppido." The hunkered-down drow shifts to his knees, scratching the back of his head and stretching out the unused arm. (Sarith)"My business does not lie here, or wherever the drow want to bring me, besides if this jail break is to work someone trained in drow disposal may just come in handy."

The drow doesn't appear to be hiding anything. His intentions seem to point towards escape being his top priority.

Buppido walks forwarding chuckling, (Buppido)"And your dark, foreboding silence was helping your case?" Not looking for a response the bearded derro turns back towards Shizuka, (Buppido)"Hubris. Hubris has halted each attempt I have witnessed. 'We can overcome the guards,' basilisk breathe to that. 'We can be sneaky, move undetected,' but they couldn't hide there scent." The derro closes his eyes, and surrenders himself to an invisible power. (Buppido)"The Gods of the Underdark work differently than those on the surface. They're not beings of structure and law, but rather the essence of chaos... madness." Buppido can't help but let a slight smirk show on his face. He scratches his nose, chasing away the smile. (Buppido)"You want advice... surrender yourself to the divine plan of the Underdark."

You get the sense that madness is present within Buppido, however that same gut feeling seems to fit each prisoner. You can't decipher if the sense is coming from any particular individual, or if it is a symptom of the Underdark.

My apologies for the wait! I missed the spoiler tab at first.
Insight: You get the sense that madness is present within Buppido, however that same gut feeling seems to fit each prisoner. You can't decipher if the sense is coming from any particular individual, or if it is a symptom of the Underdark.
Perception: Other than the outward appearance of each person, you can't tell if they're carrying more.

[spinningdice]

"If we spend all our time chasing traitors we will get nothing done. I propose we trust each other until we are well away from this place, then we can divide to go our own way or stick together for safety as we each wish to. Sanrith's heritage may be an asset, if we can salvage some better clothes and equipment he may pass for one of our captors instead of a captive. All I have managed to acquire is a short length of rope, not enough to scale a wall, but enough to tie someone up - or perhaps as a simple garotte?"
Nahalia pauses to consider and looks at Buppido
"What do you mean scent? Do they have creatures to track us, or were your words less literal?"

[Esprit15]

"Well, you seem to have watched rather than participate before. Maybe this group would be one of many that simply failed, and I simply stayed out of it," she says with a shrug.

"I can agree to that, Nahalia."

[Wheaton's Whelp]

Buppido walks towards one of the walls, placing a hand against the cold stone, (Buppido)”Scent figurative and literal. The quaggoth are capable trackers, but you’ve met Mistress Ilvara. She isn’t one to… let go of property. To her, we are her property until we are sold, or die.”

A sharp whistle is heard beyond the visibility of the pen, the prisoners are still with their cell, eyes searching the darkness. With a clamor two quaggoth drop from the stone wall and begin to ramble the entrance to the slave pen; tuffs of fur and globules of spit fly off into the pen announcing their arrival. A second whistle sees the two beasts stop their rattling, and fall back. Outside the entrance Mistress Ilvara stands with her two drow guards. To Ilvara’s right stands Shoor, the pinnacle of drow physique and second in command. If the glimmer off Shoor’s sword didn’t ward off thoughts of escape, his grip upon a wand, faintly glowing with mystical energy, warned against an attempt. The other drow guard, Jorlan, kept his head down, eyes diverted. His face crawling with old wounds, suggesting beneath his armor is a similar aesthetic.

(Mistress Ilvara)“Ah how are my little pets? No matter, it time for your service. If your name is called come to the entrance, if not find your way to the back. Shoor dear, go ahead.”

Mistress Ilvara seemingly pleased with the inspection beings towards the south, leaving the two drow and quaggoth. Shoor steps forward after bowing to Mistress Ilvara, (Shoor)”To the front! Ront! Surly! Sarith! Nahalia! Eldeth! The barracks are in disarray, you’ve been selected to correct this.”

[n0ble]

Sulry tore his glare away from the little talking toadstool. He was as much angry at his own stupidity as he was at the mushroom man for pointing it out to him. Not that he was going to ever admit such a thing, especially to such a ridiculous notion like a taling mushroom. Surly focused his thoughts right on the mushroom, trying to make sure he was the only one who received them. It took a lot of effort to get it out, despite how brief what he "said" was to the creature. Watch it bub.

Otherwise the goblin tried to look as servile as possible while gauging his work gang. His meagre survival instincts were telling him to stay far and away from both the drow and the orc. One looked to smart and the other looked too strong to mess about with for his liking. Maybe he could convince the dwarf woman to shoulder some of his workload later on...

[Esprit15]

Shizuka notes the little goblin's apparent refusal to initially move, but does not say anything. With a look of 'I clearly want to kill you' as she looks to her captors briefly, Shizuka makes her way slowly over to the other side of the cave.

[spinningdice]

Nahalia keeps her head bowed and moves to the front.

[Wheaton's Whelp]

The called prisoners move, begrudgingly, into formation near the entrance. Shoor motions over to three drow guards across the hanging bridge. When the cell doors are opened the two quaggoth race forward and enclose the selected few. (Shoor)”Jorlan, lock up behind us will you” The scar-covered drow struggles to raise his arm quick enough to grab the key thrown in his direction, as it hits him hard in the chest and falls to his feet.

Not looking to split the party, and to not have the prisoner escape encompass too much excess time, the daily work duties will be handled in the following way. Each day the prisoners remain at Velkynvelve, an assortment of the prisoners are selected for some task in an area of the prison. We will assume the guards take extra precautions with prisoners out of the cell, and that they are heavily guarded during these times. However, each time you are out you can attempt some form of action: gather more items, gain intel, make connections with guards, whatever you want I will determine the outcome via roll.

In this case Surly and Nahalia can decide what they’d like to do out of the cell.

The work duty begins to depart. As Jorlan locks the entrance he swings his head around, scanning the now empty bridge and walkways. (Jorlan)”Hey… Elf” In the dim light a finger extends and contracts beckoning Bryn to come closer. (Jorlan)”Let’s chat quick.”

[Esprit15]

Eyes initially looking up at the designation "elf," since they lacked one in the cell altogether, Shizuka looks back down and closes her eyes as Bryn as motioned over. Not out of any disappointment at a drow not wanting to speak to her, but to allow her ears to more clearly pick out what was being said.

[Ramsus]

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1d/3b/55/1d3b55ad18395298d7f8fe2e31051b99.jpg
Bryn Marble (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1113943)
Half-Elven Stone Sorcerer, Agent of the Order of the Gauntlet
Concentrating on: --

Bryn raises an eyebrow at being called out, but shrugs and gets up. As she's getting up she thinks about what the drow just said and begins laughing as she walks over and says, "It's funny for you to address me as 'Elf', you're more of an elf than I am. I'm only half elven." Once she's close enough for whispers or half-hidden romantic overtures (unlikely, but hey she's foreign and attractive) she asks, "What is it I can do for you on this lovely bright and sunny spring day?"

[Wheaton's Whelp]

(Jorlan)”We haven’t much time for formalities, don’t want to arouse suspicion.” Jorlan looks around once more; sweat begins to drip into the crevice-like scar upon his forehead. (Jorlan)”The latest Velkynvelve caravan is late on its return from Menzoberranzan, Mistress Ilvara is leaving tomorrow with a party in search of it- leaving Shoor in charge. I am looking to knock Shoor down in Ilvara’s view, and if some prisoners were to escape under his watch… well she’d likely take his head. Prepare your lot, when the time is right these iron bars will find themselves open.”

The sound of distant footsteps cause Jorlan to step back.

(Jorlan)”Oh and any word of this gets out, I’ll see you cut down myself.”

With that Jorlan turns and makes his way across the hanging bridge into the guard post.

[Ramsus]

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1d/3b/55/1d3b55ad18395298d7f8fe2e31051b99.jpg
Bryn Marble (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1113943)
Half-Elven Stone Sorcerer, Agent of the Order of the Gauntlet
Concentrating on: --

Bryn comes back to the others whistling a merry tune. She keeps doing this until someone asks why. Then she says, "It seems like things are looking up. We should get as prepared as we can for an escape sometime soon. Maybe a day. Maybe a few days. I guess I'll get in a good rest."

[Esprit15]

"And you trust them?" Shizuka says simply, a skeptical look on her face, several scars visible from the last week with her captors. "Stop looking like we're happy to be here," the other half elf adds, putting her hand over the other girl's mouth as she whistles. "Slaves aren't happy."

[Ramsus]

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1d/3b/55/1d3b55ad18395298d7f8fe2e31051b99.jpg
Bryn Marble (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1113943)
Half-Elven Stone Sorcerer, Agent of the Order of the Gauntlet
Concentrating on: --

Bryn tries to give a reply, but it's muffled by the hand on her face. Apparently she doesn't consider it worth the time to try and remove the hand. Or bother communicating via telepathically via the spores. Her eyes indicate she's made some kind of jest.

[Esprit15]

Shizuka sighs and removes her hand. "I just don't want to die, understand?"

[spinningdice]

Nahalia had never been one who was good at finding things, or listening, so she converses with the guard, trying to appeal to any vestiges of empathy, without slowing down her work.
"These barracks aren't so bad, are you expecting important guests?"

[Ramsus]

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/1d/3b/55/1d3b55ad18395298d7f8fe2e31051b99.jpg
Bryn Marble (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1113943)
Half-Elven Stone Sorcerer, Agent of the Order of the Gauntlet
Concentrating on: --

"Then I suggest getting yourself prepared and getting some rest. You'll surely need it, 'Elf'." Bryn replies to the other half-elf with a bit of a chuckle.

[Esprit15]

"I'm as prepared as possible. I don't exactly have stores to grab supplies from." And her spells wouldn't work until they were out of this field.