Eldeth Feldrun
Dwarf Fighter
AC: 12 HP: 25/25
PP: 13 PIv: 12 PIs: 11
Conditions: Exhaustion (1)
Concentrating: --

Sixth Day - Work Group

Eldeth bites her tongue when the drow yanks her hair, her face contorting in rage. I will make you pay, ebonskin, is the only thought coursing through her brain. Before stepping out, she glances back inside and meets Dworic's even gaze. The older dwarf nods at her and the meaning is plain - we owe them a debt of pain.

She takes out her frustration and anger in her work, much like she has in the past. Twist and turn and over and turn and twist and turn and over and turn goes the mantra in her head hour in and hour out. She sees nothing else and, at the end, has a nice length of rope to show for it, as well as calloused fingers and an aching back.
Spoiler: OOC
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Rope roll: 18 (from Discord, including exerting for Advantage.) Hopefully Fish Man can help.


Seventh Day - Cell

Eldeth wakes exhausted, but she grins and bears it as usual - lack of rest is normal for a scout. She sits beside Dworic in silence for a long moment, feeling the rock beneath her and the comfort of being near another dwarf, despite the presence of less comforting elements in the cell. When she speaks, her voice is low and conveys unusual softness for Dwarvish. "I do not know how you came to be here or what your affiliations may be. My scouting party was ambushed and I've left a family in Gauntlgrym. I must return to them. By Moradin, I will return to them. I hope we can join forces, kinsman. Little trust can be had in this group."

She looks at the older dwarf, a hopeful glint in her eyes.

Dworic Urgrimson
Dwarf Barbarian
AC: 15 HP: 35/35
PP: 13 PIv: 9 PIs: 13
Conditions: --
Concentrating: --

Seventh Day - Cell

Dworic wakes up for the first time feeling refreshed, despite uneasy sleep. The gouges and bruises healing nicely, his mood lightens for a moment. He rolls upright and stretches renewed muscles, loudly popping myriad joints. He barely looks up when Eldeth sits beside him and considers her words carefully for almost an eternity before replying in rumbling Dwarvish. "I don't know if we can make it out," he says dejectedly, but suddenly brightens up as if taken by inspiration. "But maybe we can get you out. Maybe we can get you back to Gauntlgrym," he says with a look of determination - the first in a very long time. And maybe I will finally find my end. Protecting another dwarf's escape might bring me redemption.

When the newcomers arrive, Dworic looks on curiously, noting the fact that Bort knows the half-elf. He takes stock of the orc as well. That one might be trouble.