Out of the Abyss IC

[RandomWombat]

There is silence, above. Then Sarith hears a buzzing begin to swell in the air around him as the priestess responds at last. She steps out onto the platform above personally, gazing down at them, and it seems as though the plan may go smoothly. Here, for a moment, she is perhaps vulnerable. But then, she speaks coldly, "I was wondering why you sounded so familiar. You have a very particular way of saying 'priestess'... Kzerkarit."

Streams of shadow gather around them in ribbons, flickering red light leading them like little will-o-the-wisps. They take form quickly into loudly buzzing insects, a thousand black-shelled locusts with blazing red eyes and too many legs, bumping and crawling upon the two drow. Wherever they find skin, soft fabric, any kind of weakspot they bite. A thousand bites tearing flesh, leaving bleeding pock marks and searing pain.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Sarith and Faedryl risk 13 damage. DC 14 Con save to halve damage.

They may each act now. The others are currently quite far away, out of sight of the drow.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 9/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Faedryl jerks back, batting away at the biting, stinging insects as she rushes out of the cloud to safety. She'd felt worse in the past, much worse, but it still hurt, and she's out of breath from the pain once she finally does escape the insect's grasp. She wanted to lash out in anger, toss a spell to the sky, but the priestess was out of range, and nothing she did would be quite as devastating at this distance. Fine. It's fine. She just needs to focus on turning it around. "Ah, a shame, we'd hoped to meet you on our terms, but it looks like we'll have to go with our backup plan!" She calls up to the priestess as they continue to move away from any further spells. She doesn't elaborate further - mostly because they don't have a backup plan. It's solely to sow distrust and paranoia, though that could be a plan all on its own. She returns to the group worse for wear, though despite the pain she refuses to let her stride be broken. She's short and to the point, which one could interpret as shame, or simply not wanting to mince words on what is now in the past. "Didn't work out as planned. Shall we go?" The only ones who'd suffered for it had been Faedryl and Sarith, and they were otherwise in the same situation as before. She doesn't comment or draw attention to the injuries. They would heal on their own, and much as it would pain her to admit it, her pride requires she move on.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 19/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- He's comparatively unhurt, at least relative to Faedryl. A trained body lets him slip out of the cloud of buzzing anger with only a few bites here and there. He doesn't add to Faedryl's words. He'd already said enough. He's quiet afterwards. Ruminating silently on what had transpired. Absent anyone else taking up the dwarven insignia, Sarith scoops it up silently and slips it into a pocket, such that it sits alongside his own, out of sight. Sentimentality. Pointless. But he can't stop himself. There's disappointment in his steps, frustration in his wake. An attempt had been made and he had failed. Again. Like so much else. She would tell him that it didn't matter so long as he still lived, and that there would be more opportunities. She would tell him that it was just another harsh lesson to learn, and beyond that it could be left learned in the past. She didn't even seem upset by his kicking her (and she wasn't, it had been a necessary part of the attempted deception). His fists squeeze tight on air. It was so easy for her to abandon what was lost and move on. Even now she sailed past the failure - his failure - without a word of criticism or complaint. Her acceptance stung more, worse than the insects, even as he tried to bury it under a layer of 'pointless' and inevitability. He could have simply stayed in the insect cloud and let them take him, but he'd followed her. Again.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Faedryl failed, Sarith succeeded.
Sarith second winds for a massive +2 hit points to bring him back up to 19/23.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Conditions: Concentrating on: Borthan eyes the insect stings and bites when Faedryl returns, but for once he keeps his smart mouth shut. No need to antagonize her when he was in such a good mood for having his axes returned. Wordlessly he took his position at the front of the group and began to scout ahead, invisibly, in case there were any new threats to pop up behind them on the way to the bridge.

Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (8hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil falls in near the front of the group, ready to leap forward should new threats arise.

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 23/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: Beast Speech (1h) Nilvae offers the drow mage a handful of enchanted fungi, half of what Stool had offered her before. Eat those, they will mend your wounds and quell your hunger. Don't fear the myconid's magic, just don't expect them to taste like anything you've ever eaten before. This has just not been our day, tenday, or even month, eh, Faedryl? A warm yet broken smile shows up on the shaken elf girl's face, wanting to get to know Faedryl better. We should get going.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Stool stays back, and tries to describe to the tracker where their grotto lies. I not hear the direction where song of Psilofyr comes from. I smell and hear song in stone, but I not feel where from. Run from drow for now, think and guide later.

[RandomWombat]

As the two return, with Faedryl badly stung, Shuushar steps forward alongside Nilvae to tend to her wounds. Sarith at least avoided the worst of the damage, skillfully protecting his vital areas. The kuo-toa lays a webbed hand upon some of the bites that tore into veins and are bleeding a worrying amount, mending them shut with magic. The magic mushrooms Stool had produced earlier would mend the remaining wounds well enough.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Shuushar heals Faedryl for 11 hit points as well.

Ront looks back up into the darkness where the outpost lurks far above, disappointment clear on his face. But as the rest of the group trudges away, he begrudgingly turns his back on their vengeance as well.

Now-familiar tunnels are traversed again. The damp darkness is picked clean of any easy edibles after their last trip through, up until they cross the old, rickety (now older and ricketier) bridge back into their fungal campsite. There are still plenty of fungi here that would be edible, some raw but others would require cooking them. Whether they decide to rest here again or simply gather edibles and move on, no new dangers lurk within the small grotto of safety.

"We should definitely drop the bridge now," Topsy suggests after the last of them cross over.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- She accepts the enchanted mushrooms with a nod of thanks, tossing them back into her mouth and swallowing with barely a chew. That, combined with Shuushar's ministrations have her flexing her neck muscles as the pain washes away. This was what it meant to not be alone. Help where it was needed, even without asking. It was alien to her dear Mother. When, one day, the end came for Matron Ahlysra, would she think back to Faedryl and reflect? Quietly, the young arcanist doubts it. "I've had worse days." She tries to wave it off with a glimmer of truth. "And better." She adds after a moment. "But we're still all alive, and thanks to..." She looks at Stool, perhaps acknowledging its efforts in recovering their gear for the first time properly. She didn't, however, commits its name to her memory. "...our friend we have had the return of our equipment. Despite what just happened, I'd say things are looking up for us all." She doesn't smile when she says it. Despite the sincerity and upbeat concepts, it doesn't feel like a smiling moment. Not yet, anyway. Once they've crossed the bridge, she nods in agreement with Topsy's suggestion. There was nothing back there for them now except pain. If Ilvara or Asha wished to pursue then they could do so the long way around. She quietly traces the symbols to summon a fire on the far side of the bridge, closest to the outpost. It crackles to life the moment she seals the magic with her name, steadily working its way through the ropes and wood. Once it's burned through and drops to the water she repeats the process for the close side. Replacing the bridge would require significant effort now. It gave them a chance to breathe and discuss next steps, long term and otherwise. "I suppose we should discuss future plans, thrown together as we are. For myself I'd like to be rid of the Underdark for a while. Though I've read that the surface world isn't particularly kind to drow, I expect an odd peasant lynching is still preferable to staying where we're being actively hunted by soldiers. Does anyone know - and I want to stress 'know', not simply 'guess' - of a route to the surface?"

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 19/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Sarith, for his part, refuses the mushrooms even when offered. He was still healthy, and whatever magic they might have would be better saved for later. His soldier's instincts told him that much. When Faedryl brings up leaving the Underdark he grimaces, even as he understands the wisdom in her words. Down here they were hunted and likely couldn't find sanctuary anywhere for long. Any who might shelter them would just as quickly give them up in the face of a concerted drow raiding party - they simply were not worth the effort. A group of runaway prisoners with no money, no connections, and little to trade in other than labour, be it hard or otherwise. Added to that, he doesn't actually know a route to the surface. None that would help, anyway. He withdraws the dwarf's insignia that he pocketed earlier. "Gauntlgrym might have a path to the surface." It was a long shot that they'd even be able to get close, but perhaps the two that left them, plus the slaves they escorted, were their ticket to freedom.

[RandomWombat]

"I fell down a tunnel," Ront says roughly, pointing one finger up. "Could find again? Would have to climb a long ways. But we have, spiders?" the orc suggests, perhaps taking some inspiration from Buppido's harebrained scheme.

"I should very much like to return to Gracklstugh. The duergar will not part easily with their secret paths and passages to the surface but..." the smooth-spoken derro smiles and adjusts the collar of his dress shirt. "I do have ways to find things."

Scoffing, Topsy shakes her head. "I'd rather not end up in deep dwarf slave shackles. I say we follow the mushroom's plan for now. Go to the myconid grove, and from there we can get to Blingdenstone without crossing too close to Menzoberranzan. I- we have contacts there." she looks at her brother, who nods shyly.

"I blublieve I can helpbl charter passage in Sloobludop," offers their kuo-toan healer.

The only one without any real suggestion seems to be Jimjar, who is humming a tune and playing with a coin, flipping it up into the air and then catching it on the way down. Peering down at the back of his hand, he peels it off and looks at the coin underneath and smiles.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Conditions: Concentrating on: A sigh of disappointment goes through Borthan as the bridge burns up. You try to do something nice for everyone in the underdark and it ends up going up in smoke. He gave a silent whisper of thanks to whoever built the bridge in the first place. It had served them well. Borthan runs through his own favorite passages to the surface over a few quiet minutes, realizing quickly that none of them are close, most of them were dangerous for a group this large to use, and many of them ran through Grey Dwarf territory. Vrek's word of honor had kept any other dueregar from trying to enslave Borthan again, but the others in his group had even less than that scant protection available to them. They'd be dead or in chains in a matter of moments were they discovered. Shaking his head clear of these troubling thoughts, Borthan spoke up. No ways up and out of here come to mind. Given our options, either I agree with Stool and the twin's plan. Myconids will probably leave us alone at the very least for returning one of their own, might even point us in the right direction. And deep gnomes may be paranoid, xenophobic, and reclusive... he coughs and smiles at Topsy, Turvy, and Jimjar by way of apology. present company excepted... but again, returning some of their own might give us a foot in the door and a point in the right direction. Also let's those of us not interested in seeing the sun a chance to get somewhere they might find safe. Seems like it would work for everyone. Am I right?

Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (8hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil gave his opinion in undercommon first before switching to elvish. I want to go to the surface, and I'll follow anyone going in that direction. He cleared his throat and added in the fare tongue Gauntlgrym sounds promising, if anyone can get us there. I certainly trust the reputation of dwarves more than... other species we might find down here...

[RandomWombat]

Catching Borthan's look, Topsy snickers and shrugs. "Not wrong. But we're no slavers, and Blingdenstone is barely a city anymore. There's no law to kick you out." Seeing some of the others might not be familiar, Turvy explains in a small voice, "Our people sided with the dwarves against the drow in the Battle of Keeper's Dale. Even though we won the battle, the drow came to Blingdenstone later and they sieged and sacked the city."

"Some help the dwarves were then. They took in refugees, but those of us left pick over scraps in the ruins," pushing off of the wall, Topsy starts walking again. "Wherever we're going, the fishmen seem like our first stop. And a boat will help us throw off the priestess when she inevitably comes after us."

Anyone who'd taken a breather while the bridge burnt down packs up their things and begins walking again. Buppido is wearing a solemn frown, contrasted against his usual dissonant serenity, perhaps disappointed they will not be helping him get to Gracklstugh.


The winding pathway curves onwards, past the fungal campsite. There is more of the same here, short offshoot passages that Borthan scouts and finds either lead nowhere or have caved in at some point and never been cleared. Nooks and crannies where strange mushrooms grow and small animals lurk, providing sustenance on their journey.

Spoiler: OOC

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Borthan finds enough food passively through Ranger, but can roll Survival to see if he collects anything useful.

After what feels to Borthan like about a day's travel, they come upon an open, grey beach. It is not the Darklake; this he would know, they are still quite far off. Mossy black dunes look out over a modest lake of clear water, into which the river they crossed must feed.

They are not alone here. There is a small booth set up, constructed of scavenged planks of zurkhwood haphazardly thrown together. Here sit two goblins. One of them is short, even for a goblin, with a sharp spear-like face and ears that thrust out high and proud like an elf's. He's decked out in a leather cuirass and has a wooden shield resting on his back. Behind the desk, a sheathed scimitar can be spied resting at his side. He drums the tabletop in boredom until they arrive, when his ears perk up even higher.

Beside him is a taller goblin, of portly figure, with a massive unnaturally long neck that hangs in folds around the collar of his blue shirt and the leather cuirass he, too, wears overtop of it. He's holding a grey mouse in one hand and feeding it a small piece of mushroom. His eyes are soft, with a contented and quiet look on his face.

Behind them is an old rusty metal pull wagon whose wheels have been replaced with sleds. On it rests an armoire that looks nearly too large for it, and several gourds with stoppers in them. On the front of their wooden booth it reads 'WEB RUNNERS WONDER EMPORIUM'.

Spoiler: Goblins

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Short Goblin

Tall Goblin

"Weelcome, weelcome, customers!" the shorter goblin sits up in his chair, rubbing his hands together.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Just walking on its own was relaxing at this point. They had safety in numbers, she wasn't on the imminent run from anyone or anything, and she didn't need to look over her shoulder ever thirty seconds. They had a plan - or the makings of one. Maybe if she could get together some coin she could find the ritual components to recall Ryld'aer. They weren't exactly talkative but it would be the last piece she needed to return herself to full strength. When the goblins greet them, she's the first to move closer and return the greeting in kind. "Greetings to you both, though I'm not sure we're customers just yet." It's delivered with the practiced polite etiquette that she was taught as a scion of a Drow House. She is - was - nobility after all. A detached, but amiable tone. "I'm guessing you are the Web Runners." She notes their sign with a polite nod. "What wonders do you sell here?" She's aware that she's giving the goblin an opportunity to launch into a salesperson's speech, no doubt to talk up the amazing things that their wares could do. She'd just have to hope that they could cut through the hard sell and pick out anything that was actually of worth, with the rather large caveat that there was something of worth to them. They didn't need much furniture at the moment, no matter how large the armoire might be.

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 23/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: Beast Speech (1h) For a short moment Nilvae wasn't sure if this was one of Puck's illusions. Then again, her patron's power did not really reach down here. A merchant? In the middle of nowhere? she asked herself, then shrugged. She just fled a drow encampment from demons and undead, and she is planning to meet fish people in order to find a grove of mushroom people. Her last month was less weird than happening upon a slightly sleazy merchant in the middle of the underdark. Well, if you have a bit of survival gear, I am all ears. Show up what you got. I would need something to cover my vital areas, a knife and a sling, please. We are wanderers in need of a few things. We have happened upon a bit of discarded drow weaponry in turn.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Stool seeemt sad. As no one really heeds him attention, he just responds to the continued discussions on where to go. Stool really likes you. But for Stool's kind surface is deadly. Will help reach anything down here, but cannot go surface.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Conditions: Concentrating on: Borthan keeps silent, eyes searching the surrounding area for any sign of ambush or trap. He didn't trust goblins. None of his experiences in the past had given him an impression that they were anything but conniving and dangerous. Even if they didn't have some attack planned, he doubted that their financial encounter with them would lead to any new information on the species.

Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (8hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil was intrigued by this small display of entrepreneurship, but tempered his interest with the knowledge that he didn't have very much money, and he didn't see any of his companions with heavy, bulging purses either.

[RandomWombat]

"Ah yees, we got survival gear," the spear-faced goblin answers. The long-necked goblin's head bobs up and down quietly in agreement. Spear-face scoots his chair back and takes a wooden trunk from under the booth, opening it up. He sets out a coil of fifty feet of silk rope; it comes with a belt clip, a set of 4 pitons and a small hammer as part of a climber's kit. Then he pulls out an old wooden spoon and sets it on the table. He next lays out three knives: a butter knife, a folding jackknife, and a butcher's cleaver with a rusty blade. And lastly he takes out a slingshot and a bag of small, polished round stones.

"We allow trade eens, yees," the spear-headed goblin answers, not seeming to care much that they are drow, misplaced or otherwise. The long-headed goblin's head bobs up and down quietly in agreement. "We also have veery nice clothing for the nice drow lady." The long-headed goblin's head bobs up and down again as his partner opens up the armoire, displaying a rack of clothing. On it are a pair of garish purple overalls, a simple but extremely high quality red dress, a pair of black high heeled shoes that look eerily similar to Ilvara's, a lady's handbag made out of golden lizard scales, and a black tophat.

Spoiler: Survival Gear

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Climbing Kit: 10 gp
Wooden Spoon: 5 gp
Butter Knife: 5 gp
(Does not appear useful as a weapon)
Folding Knife: 5 gp
(1d3 damage, Adv to hide on one's person)
Rusty Cleaver: 10 gp
(Handaxe)
Slingshot and 10 Sling Stones: 5 gp
(1d3 damage, 30/60 range)

Spoiler: Clothing

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Purple Overalls: 10 gp
Fancy Red Dress: 15 gp
Ilvara's Shoes?: 15 gp
Gold Scaled Handbag: 15 gp
Black Tophat: 10 gp

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- This was hardly the time, place, or situation to be dolling herself up, and even if the dress matched her eyes the shade was completely wrong for her skintone. It was too much to have hoped that they had a map or some scrolls, perhaps a scavenged spellbook they didn't understand the value of. No matter. There would be other opportunities, she was sure. The shoes weren't made for long walks in the Underdark, but perhaps she could make use of them some other way that she hasn't yet considered. She withdraws the (sharpened) carnellian that she had reclaimed from Buppido, and the steel mirror from her possession. It would probably not serve her better than the shoes in the Underdark. "I offer an exchange then: This gleaming gemstone and a mirror of steel, in place of those shoes."

Spoiler: Trade offer

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Carnellian - 10gp + Steel Mirror - 5gp for the shoes.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Conditions: Concentrating on: I know I'm going to miss out on a lot of fun bets with Jimjar being flat broke, but I could use a new jackknife. Borthan hands over the last of his gold for the small folding knife. He hoped he'd be able to whittle with it, assuming he ever saw carvable wood again.

Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (8hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil's eyes linger over the red dress, but he shakes his head at the goblin's wares.

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 23/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: Beast Speech (1h) Nilvae being slightly miffed was an exaggeration. She did not expect much, if anything at all, but that display of wares was pitiable. Of course she grew in the vicinity of Waterdeep, which brought a bit of wealth even to the surrounding hamlets even if the greater goods stayed in the city. But this was bad stuff, even for the standard of a poor farmer girl like the half-elf. She sighs as not to insult the goblin's wares. She took her magical book and recited a small formula, a bit of subtle glitter floated around her person accentuating her form naturally. I'll take the climbing gear, and let me just check the handbag, please. I know a good merchant does not sell his secrets, but may I just inquire if these goods are stolen or how did you find them? I am terribly sorry, but goblinkind hasn't had the best reputation when it comes to that. But I will take your word for it. Much of it is not sturdy enough for our use, and much too overpriced. Can't you do something in that front, my dear? Nilvae leans forward, kissing the smaller goblin on its head. Spoiler Show On the off chance the bag is magic, I'll take it. If not, just the climbing gear in exchange for the cart Dr Donk pulled. Persuasion(1d20+6)[20] with Guidance (+1 if applicable).

[RandomWombat]

Taking the gemstone, the spear-headed goblin bites it as if it were a coin. "Yup. Theets a gemstone." The long-headed goblin bobs his head up and down. He finishes feeding his mouse and takes out a small bowl filled with soft cloth, tucking the tiny animal into bed.

Plucking the mirror from Faedryl's hands, the spear-headed goblin admires himself in it, checking his teeth. Tiny, sharp little needles, in remarkably good condition. For a goblin. "Gotch'eeself a deal," setting the two trade items aside, he picks up the pair of high-heels and hands them to Faedryl across the booth counter. The material is firm, but soft, with the sole and heel hard and sleek with a dark sheen.

Borthan steps up next and the spear-headed goblin tests the gold coins just as he had the gemstone. "Yup. Theets a gold." The long-headed goblin bobs his head up and down. The small folding knife is placed in Borthan's open palm, the material light and cool against his skin.

Chuckling from nearby, Jimjar raises an eyebrow at Borthan. "I take credit. It's all up here. And don't you worry, Jimjar always pays his debts," the cheerful gnome says as he points to his forehead.

Grinning up at Nilvae, the goblin shrugs noncommittally. "I don't eesk where yee's got yeer drow weepons, do I?" When Nilvae leans down to kiss him on his forehead, she finds his skin quite dry. The goblin flushes a deeper yellowish-orange around the cheeks and chuckles, rubbing the back of his head. "Weeell. I could throw een my peersonal map. Ye meemorized it alreedy yee?" He elbows his business partner, whose head bobs up and down quietly like a small novelty figurine.

The Web Runners accept the exchange of Nilvae's cart for the climbing gear. The spear-headed goblin admits it's a little more valuable than the climbing stuff, so the handbag is only 10 more gold if she wants that too. And he hands the group a remarkably well-drawn map of the Darklake and surrounding area, including some of the known passages.

Spoiler: The Web Runners' Map

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[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Faedryl takes the shoes with a quiet nod, stepping away from the trader to one side to allow others to conduct their business and buy her a little space. Holding both shoes in one hand she uses her other to quietly trace the runes for Reveal, Secret, Arcane, and mutters an incantation. Her eyes flash white with arcane light as her vision shifts over from solely natural to include the first level of magical spectrums. It was a long shot, but perhaps there would be something revealed within the items, or elsewhere. It was as good excuse as any to take a peek at her companions, and see if they were hiding any magic of their own. Though her gleaming eyes stay fixed on the shoes, her sense is already wandering to peek at the other things on offer also.

Spoiler: OOC

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Spending my warlock spell slot to cast Detect Magic immediately - on the shoes, and anything else within 30', which should cover everything.

[RandomWombat]

With Nilvae showing no further interest in the weapon, Topsy throws down some gold coins and picks up the slingshot, giving the rubber band a stretch and examining it. "Might as well have a backup for if I lose my knives."

The goblin tests her coinage as well and finds it acceptable, scooping it into his coinpurse. "Another sateesfied customer."

Spoiler: Faedryl's Detect Magic

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With the exception of the climber's hit, which is merely a used Underdark climber's kit in decent condition, everything on display shows signs of magic. But they are all faint, practically uniformly so. There is little potency in their magic.

The armoire itself displays a much more potent aura of magic.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- She blinks twice, the glow vanishing from her eyes as she does so as she lets the spell drop. Whatever minor enchantments were wrapped up in the items would reveal themselves in time, and she wasn't going to push the point on the goblins about the details of their armoire. Their secrets were their own. She stores the shoes away - she'd have time to unravel their magical mysteries later, ready to move on. Unraveling the magic would come later.

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 23/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: Beast Speech (1h) Nilvae bows courteously. I thank you noble creatures for this useful map. You are clearly as smart as you are handsome. The half-elf could not help but giggle a bit. There were rays of humor and sunshine down here, even if they were crusty simple-minded goblins.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:13 Conditions: Concentrating on: Borthan stowed the jackknife in the pocket of his pants, then took the time to remove a sleek, black fur cloak from his bag. He loosely tied it around his neck using what looked like furry tentacles with barbs on them that served to fasten the knot. He looked quite a bit more stylish wearing the displacer beast cloak, and he wore it with pride. Ready to go when y'all are.

[RandomWombat]

A Brief Respite

With purchases made, the motley says farewell to the goblin entrepreneurs and carries on. Past the open beach the tunnel closes in again, bringing them together in single file. After traveling a little further it comes time to set up camp, though there isn't much room for a proper campsite in the cramped tunnel. Though not exactly comfortable, the rest afford them time to cook a small meal with the meager moss and lizards Borthan has been able to scrounge up to keep them from going hungry.

Using some of the leftovers from her and her brother's share, Topsy makes some strips of dried lizard meat for herself and Turvy to take on the road.

Spoiler: OOC

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Anything the party wishes to do during a Long Rest can be accomplished. It can be assumed that at least one of the component pouches retrieved has a pearl in it, if anyone has or prepares Identify.

The Infested Crossing

Come the next 'day', the journey resumes. Not long after starting to move again, the motley finds themselves approaching a more open area, the ceiling of the cavern scaling upwards as their passage widens, all of them now comfortably able to move.

Any bitterness at not using this area as a more comfortable campsite is banished as the state of the place becomes more clear. Large patches of bubbling, green slime coat the floor, and some of the walls. To their right is a rope ladder hanging down to a lower level of the tunnel, the passage it leads to filled with slime and the sound of moving water not far from where they are. A worn rope ladder hangs down, the bottom of it sizzling and partially melted by the slime it's dangling in which has yet to overtake and consume the rest of the ladder in its entirety.

There appear to have once been lamps in sconces along some of the walls, suggesting a major road or crossroads ahead. But they have all been melted by acid. The area ahead is dark, not that it troubles the motley very much.

Spoiler: Darkness

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There are no light sources here besides the party's, but even one light as dim as a candle enables Darkvision to see normally for its full range.

Spoiler: Nature

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Spoiler: DC 5

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The slime appears to be acidic. Probably don't want to step on it.

Spoiler: DC 10

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This is Green Slime, a common hazard in the damp places of the underdark. But it normally does not grow and spread to such prolific lengths, particularly not in well-traveled roads. It is easy enough to kill and clear away with fire, cold, or harsh light that it rarely poses a problem.

Green slime can eat through non-magical materials like wood and metal, or clothing, damaging equipment.

Spoiler: DC 12

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Green Slime is not known to grow on the floor like this. It is, in essence, a very simple and immobile ooze. Green Slime usually grows on the ceiling and drops down on unwitting animals or travelers when it senses movement.

Spoiler: Passive Perception

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Spoiler: DC 13

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Coiled among the stalactites, some patches of the slime can be seen above as well.

Spoiler: DC 15

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There are mounds beneath some of the slime. The consumed remains of animals and, more worryingly, humanoids. Only the bones remain. Some remains are even lodged in the patches of slime on the ceiling.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: Create Bonfire (1 minute) Once they set down and make camp, Faedryl spends her time on watch duty (while not trancing) inspecting and unweaving the magic stitched into the shoes. Even without a specialist spell she should be able to deduce their nature with time. When they come to the slime cavern after their rest, she grimaces. Disgusting. That it was allowed to grow and runamok like this was a disgrace. If the drow actually mustered themselves together they could conquer the Underdark. This could be a thriving trade route, patrolled by elite guards. Instead it was left to rot, while the best and brightest of her people did the same to petty infighting. "Fire, frost and bright light will clear the way. This ooze consumes near anything that isn't wrapped in magic - including wood and metal. Do not touch it if you can help it." She delivers the information as a teacher would to students. Patient, instructional, but direct. They would learn or they would not, and once the information was given it was up to them to heed it. "Sarith, make use of this." She tugs a piece of wychwood from her pouch and throws it to him. He was a trained drow soldier, he would be able to use it. That done, she quietly recites the words to create a fire that will burn them a path forwards further down the main road. Even if they decided to take the rope ladder this would still be a useful service to those who would come after. Pest control. It's not how she saw her life going, but there is a small thrill that trills in the back of her chest at being quietly useful like this.

Spoiler: OOC

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Should be able to short/long rest identify the shoes even without an Identify spell.

Faedryl casts Create Bonfire. Under the assumption that we don't come under attack, she'll continue to do so to burn a path forward.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: Dancing Lights (1 minute) He catches the chunk of wood without issue from Faedryl, and understands the implication. While only some drow pursued their magical gifts, all warriors were given some measure of instruction in their use of it, and he was no exception. His spellcasting is far more utilitarian than hers - a quick gesture and a quick word. No ornate glowing runes, no called incantations. It was minimalist, the better to be concealed by dark and distance in the gloom of their home. Still, the spell works just the same. Pinpricks of light grow on the slime in the area from his spell, shedding bright light around them as they grow into full torches though they burned no smoke and release no heat. He keeps hold of the small piece of wood for now, to allow him to recast it again and again as necessary to clear a way towards the rope bridge. It would keep their options open.

Spoiler: OOC

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Sarith uses drow racial to cast Dancing Lights, aiming to clear the path to+down the rope ladder from slime.

[Spore]

Nilvae | Eye-Gore Half-Elf Warlock | Lamp Blighter AC: 13 HP: 23/23| AC 13 HP: 10/10 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) | PP: 11 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: fearful | Concentration: Beast Speech (1h) The past days have not been easy for the surface elf. Nilvae sat next to the fire, trying to deceiver her grimoire of Puck. It was one half ramblings of a mad man, one half insane sketches of little bunnies that slowly transformed into eldritch abominations on the page, and a third half just weird incantations. Nilvae got regular headaches and migraines from it, other than it possibly adding to her unstable mental state. After a while, her eyes tired, as she did herself, and she took to sleeping with the book dangerously close to the flames. She dreamt weird things. One focus of her dreams were demons and drow. The drow took her captive, threw her in the darkest hole they could find and left her to rot. The demons took her, crushed her, dropped her down a dark hole, and one demon....just ate her eyes. Gouged them out, savoring them like a good cherry or berry, and bit down on them. She heard snickering, loud slurping and suddenly felt something poke into her side. She woke up to mad chittering of her favorite spider-donkey, fearing what crawled in the back. Muttering a few long-ingrained magic words, Nilvae make sense of Mr Spide's panic. It hid behind her, and she hear a loud smacking. Now wouldn't that be a feast. A thousand eyes per skull, with more to pop on the other side. A slender figure revealed itself from the shadow cast by the burning book. Nilvae panicked, as her grimoire was damaged, trying to throw sand onto the flames. She knew it was too late as the pages already crumpled and it flickered in the slight wind the tunnels provided. The strange creature snapped its tiny claws, and the fire went out. Oh you mortals, ever the worrier about power, about not being blinded. 'Oh no, I have three children, I need my eyes.' they beg. The tiny imp-like creature coughs. Anywho, I'm Eyegore, and Puck sent me. Some garbled nonsense about Underdark. I thought he was screwing with me. You guys really call this Underdark? How unimaginative. Nilvae is flabbergasted, but she feels an odd safeness around the newly spawned creature. If you're twitching for some eye balls, but haven't acted yet, it means you are bound to me. she suddenly exclaims, with a mad grin on her face. Yeah, that'll certainly do. Eyegore investigates, and it snaps its little fingers and suddenly the light of Faedryl's bonfire doubles. It flares up and most people need to shield their eyes from the sudden influx of light. Nilvae herself keeps back. It just burns away easily enough. Still, light helps.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - I do not like light. Stool tries to send its spores to "eat away" the slime. Spoiler Show cast Chill Touch on the slime.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:13 Conditions: Concentrating on: Borthan watches Faedryl set about burning the green slime out of their path. Lemme know if you need a hand. I've got some torches in my bag that would probably eat this stuff up real quick. He kept his eyes upward, ready to push his companions out of the way or warn them if they moved underneath a slime.

Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Sanity 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (8hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Disgusting. Derendil's feline face recoiled in an angry hiss as he did his best to avoid stepping in goo.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: Create Bonfire (1 minute) "I will have a path cleared 'fore long," Faedryl reassures Borthan. "Keep an eye out for ambushers instead. Seems like a fine spot for a surprise attack."

[RandomWombat]

A Brief Respite

As their rest is disturbed by Nilvae's brief panic, Topsy eyes her and her new companion. "What in the Hells is that thing?"

The Infested Crossroads

As the lights from Sarith's magic twine and dance down the rope ladder, the acidic slime recoils as if in disgust. But the lights simply aren't harsh enough to do more than irritate the slime colony, in so short a time. Faeydrl's spell on the other hand, aided by the strange macabre sprite following Nilvae, burns far more brightly. The fungus built up around the top of the rope ladder sizzles and blackens, burning away with an strong, acrid acidic smell.

As they continue to slowly advance and burn away the patch of acid, there is an angry pop and hiss from above. A large glob of green goop falls from the ceiling, landing below in a splorch that creates a puddle of oozing acid beneath it. Within the glob float the bones of a past victim. Deep inside of the slime is a glowing core, which glares out at them like a furious eye.

Spoiler: Nature

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Anyone who got DC 12 on the previous check knows this is definitely not normal for green slime colonies.

Before they can ready themselves and dispatch the slimy defender, however, a long curled claw wraps around the corner of the lower tunnel. A bony skull like that of a horse with long, curved horns reaching back peeks out up at them, black abyss within its eye holes. A tall, lanky body oozing noxious goo follows, a pair of bat-like wings stretching from its back. It evokes an instinctive revulsion, even in those who might find its physical appearance within mundanity for the Underdark's twisted monsters. Taking another step forward, its body ripples and fades, vanishing from sight.

Spoiler: Borthan

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An unpleasant sensation oozes into Borthan's thoughts. It is like a black tar dripping down the sides of his brain, coiling through the folds and crevices like little sizzling fingers. It declares hostile intent that makes his spine crawl in two voices echoing over one another, clawing and jostling for attention, one tongue the common and the other an unsettling rasping sound of clicks and hissing.

M͈͇̮̼̠̲ͅa̤̬͘͝r̦͉̭͉k͓̻e̡̺̰͎͉̺̬͝d̴̖͉̳̬͠͝.̵̧̯̬͈͙͕̮ ̦ͅ ̮F̜̘͉̱́͞o̦͕̜͈͖r̷̼̞̰͜.̵̡̬͉̲͔̰̪̱ ̢͇͚͟C̴͕̺̖̞̹͍̤̥o̠̺͓͈͍͓n̨̹̣̠͍͕̟͖̟͝ ̨̹͍̟͕͡s͉̘̹̺͢͞u̴͓͉̩͘m̨̘̳p͉̕ ̙̙͟t҉̱͖̼͇̮i̥͡o̘̞͕̟͓n̟͎̭̜͘͠.̸̱͍͓͖͎̱͚̻͟͞

Spoiler: Effects

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Borthan must make a DC 10 Sanity check from the unsettling mental contact.

As the threat looms, Borthan suddenly falters, falling to the ground and shaking violently. Jimjar springs to action and runs to his side, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him awake. When Borthan emerges from the strange fever dreams he'd been struck with, he sees a gnomish face sneering down at him malevolently. "Are you alright?" Jimjar asks, with concern.

Spoiler: What Borthan Hears

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"Get up and stop being so useless."

Moving in behind Faedryl, Topsy peers out and points in the area where the slime is burned away from her bonfire. "The demon's standing there," she tells the others. "I can see talon marks in the soot."

Spoiler: Religion

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Spoiler: DC 10

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This creature's appearance and the aura of revulsion it creates mark it as a Demon.

Spoiler: DC 15

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The Demon is a Geruzou, or a 'slime demon' as they are sometimes called. The slime coating their bodies is not strongly acidic, but is slippery and makes it difficult to grab or entangle them. They can, however, spit gobs of a more powerful acid.

Spoiler: DC 20

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Geruzou have natural magical abilities, including telepathy, invisibility, darkness generation, detection of cosmic forces (such as angels or other demons), and short range teleportation. The Geruzou could be anywhere right now.

They are immune to poison and acid, and resist frost, flame and lightning. Like many fiends, they are also resistant to magic in general.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Borthan acts in the current allied Initiative block.

Perception can be attempted as an action to attempt to locate and point out the Demon's current Invisible location.

Mr. Spide moves forward and takes the Dodge action.
Topsy attempts to locate the demon, and succeeds. It may be targeted at Disadvantage with attacks.

Spoiler: Initiative

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Mr. Spide - 18
Topsy - 17
Jimjar - 16
Borthan - Delayed
Shuushar - 16

Green Slime - 16

Faedryl/Sarith - 14.5

??? - 14
Demon - 12

Buppido - 11
Nilvae/Eye Gore/Stool - 7
Ront - 8
Derendil - 4
Turvy - n1

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Paranoid Concentrating on: Hunter's Mark (1 hr) Falling to one knee, Borthan's eyes go wide as the intrinsic invasion of his mind causes his body to start to shut down. Shivering, he blinks as a single drop of cold sweat falls from the end of his nose. Then Jimjar is shaking him, and Borthan snaps out of it. When the deep gnome insults him, he responds by unleashing a bellow of rage into the small blue face. Springing up, Borthan rushes forward, shouting the word PREY! in the language of the Grey Dwarves before bellowing a challenge, both to the demon and to himself. He was fed up with having his mind ****ed with by these abyssal buttwipes. He would see this thing fall before him, or he would die trying. With Sun in one hand and Moon in the other, he turned into a hacking, slashing storm, trying to carve the demon into pieces.

Spoiler: OOC

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Bonus action to Hunter's Mark the demon. I'm choosing not to roll religion because Bort wouldn't know anything about these types of things. Move up to the demon and attack. (1d20+5)[24] to hit (Disadvantage reroll in the discord, rolled a 15 and hit) and (1d6+3)[6] slashing damage, plus (1d6)[4] Hunter's Mark damage. Dread Ambusher gives another attack- (1d20+5)[6] to hit and (1d6+3)[6] damage, plus (1d6)[1] from Hunter's Mark and (1d8)[2] from Dread Ambusher. In case I crit here's another (1d6)[2].

[RandomWombat]

The Infested Crossroads

Lunging back up, Borthan charges at the place where the talon marks mar the soot. The demon shifts, and its claws scrape into the layer of blackened earth, clueing Borthan into its movements. His first strike catches the enemy off guard, and blackened blood and sludge sprays out of thin air. Rippling shapes appear once more as the demon's concentration lapses. The creature leans back and swerves away from his clumsy, angry follow up.

Walking up, Shuushar closes his eyes and focuses. The normally pacifistic kuo-toa seems less hesitant against foes such as these, and when he opens them they gleam momentarily with light. A trio of floating, golden needles materializes next to the slime and jab at it, but the ooze slurps and glorps out of the way. Not looking frustrated, he reaches out and places a hand on Sarith's back, granting a minor blessing.

The slime ignores the floating needles of light, gliding towards their group and leaving a trail of acidic slime in its wake.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Borthan slashes the Demon for 10 damage, then misses with his second strike.
Shuushar casts Spiritual Weapon, but misses Green Slime.
Shuushar casts Guidance on Sarith, giving him +1d4 to a roll.

Green Slime Dashes. It is not terribly fast. The ground behind it becomes slimed.

Faedryl and Sarith are up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Mr. Spide - 18
Topsy - 17
Jimjar - 16
Borthan - Delayed
Shuushar - 16

Green Slime - 16

Faedryl/Sarith - 14.5

??? - 14
Demon - 12

Buppido - 11
Nilvae/Eye Gore/Stool - 7
Ront - 8
Derendil - 4
Turvy - n1