Nilvae
Half-Elf Warlock
AC: 13 HP: 23/23
PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1)
Conditions: -
Concentration: -

I understand your concern, lady dwarf, but as far as I know no drow inside this cell is particularly devout or even a priest of their demons. They might be other allegiances at play, but at this point I take an ally bathed in abyssal fire rather than no ally at all. Nilvae chuckles brightly. Besides; you don't know if I don't serve the darkest gods in here, feeding you to the beasts I befriend.

We can parts ways when we escape. In fact we might be forced to, to split their attention. the final few sentences are thought again.

Stool
Myconid Druid
AC: 13 (bucket armor) HP: 28/28
PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12
Conditions: -
Concentration: -

Stool looks in awe at the orc, that just coughed up his spores and shrugged them off like it was nothing. You are sturdy one. Strong one. If we submit to you, can you lead us out of here? this thoughts thrust into the orc's head. The apparent feces running down Stool's face like a heavily gelled combover of dark hair makes the small myconid not really convincing.

You don't like me being in your head, do you?