Out of the Abyss IC

[RandomWombat]

The tolling of the black bell holds no sway over the fell magic clinging this abomination to its mockery of life. But Sarith's well-placed bolt through the skull shatters it and tears into the brain, doing enough damage to disrupt the necromantic matrix and collapse the thing back into whatever hereafter awaits it.

Derendil reaches out and sprays freezing magic onto the feet of the one still lurching towards them, further slowing it in the pit of spikes but doing minimal damage. Standing poised to strike with both blades, Borthan waits patiently, knowing it is already dead.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Faedryl casts Toll the Dead, but the dead do not listen.
Sarith headshots Quaggoth Zombie for 6 damage and a kill.
Borthan readies an action.
Derendil casts Ray of Frost, damaging the last zombie for 1 and slowing it.

Nilvae and Stool may yet act.

Spoiler: Initiative

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Borthan - 23
Mr. Spide - 21
Faedryl/Sarith - 11.5
Nilvae/Stool - 8.5

Quaggoth Zombies - 8

The Motley Crew - 6.5
Derendil - 6

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP:8/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: - On the verge of crying again, Nilvae picks up a stone and chucks it at the zombie. Spoiler Show 16 to hit, 9 blunt damage.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: Spike Growth Stool was hoping for a melee scrap, but instead maintains his deadly spell and extends his body yet again to finally lay the zombie to rest. Spoiler Show 8 necrotic damage due to Chill Touch, can't heal, disadvantage on attacks.

[/QUOTE]

[RandomWombat]

Crawling slowly forward, the quaggoth's organs spill out and are left in its wake as Stool's mystical spores eat away the decaying flesh on its face, revealing skull beneath. Eventually the onslaught puts it down, and it slumps to a rest with the others.

The hallway before them is a disgusting mess of heaped bodies, smeared gore, and dismembered limbs. It reeks of death, only lessened by the cool underdark temperatures not having rotted the day old quaggoth corpses a great deal yet. As things settle, Topsy hums to herself in thought.

Mr. Spide crawls back to Nilvae's side, as the gnomess comments, "That was certainly a distraction. Why in the deep dark did those bastards let you go free?" she questions Nilvae skeptically.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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After Nilvae and Stool deal another 17 damage to the last zombie, it shreds itself down to 2 health Dashing slowly through the spike growth.

We can probably safely assume you put it down, and combat ends.

[Spore]

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: Spike Growth Stool rushes away and scrapes a few iridescent fungi from a wall. Blue in color and formless, Stool stuffs them into his "mouth" and swallows them. He hums a deep and strained hum, as ten tiny glowing blue mushrooms appear below him. He hands Nilvae half of them, pocketing the others for later. Spoiler Show Casting Good"mushroom" on a bit of fungi, if feasible.

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 13/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: - Nilvae smiles at the tiny mushroom person, hugging his moist and sticky self, regardless of how dirty it seemed. She quickly pops the mushrooms in, feeling a certain healing magic - or was she just drunk? Regardless her many wounds itched, burned and hurt a little less now. And her stomach's growling stops too. She raises elegantly, still a radiant being even when in her rags, her braided hair in shambles and her face covered in blood and dirt. I don't really know. The drow witch wanted Faedryl in exchange for myself. I agreed but then I remembered how nice she was to me and I said to myself, that she did not deserve that. We may have been lucky she did not know I could teleport... She looks back a few dozen feet and sees the quaggoth bodies. So where are the drow? WHERE ARE THE DROW? she screams, panicking. There were two guards, Asha's sex toy guy and her acolyte. They are gone. They must have placed a spell on me. Or a hidden familiar. Or a demon!!! Nilvae panicks, starting to hyperventilate. She is also starting to tear off the remaining rags that cover her body in search of a magic trinket, or tiny spider familiar, or similar.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Conditions: Concentrating on: Borthan is almost disappointed that the quaggoth undead didn't even make it to him. It completely defeated the purpose of his excellent positioning he'd been patting himself on the back for. Stowing his blades, he looked upward from the rotting corpse to the tunnel beyond. Patting the mushroom on top of his cap to reveal his positioning, Borthan says Kid, you want to stop focusing on the nasty spikes? I wanna go follow the drow she's screaming about before they get too far. Before he leaves, however, Borthan moves invisible up to Nilvae. His particular stealth ability would be known to her, but he still didn't want to surprise her by touching her... especially while she was getting nekkid. Instead he spoke. Nilvae! Don't worry about ghosts in your clothes, you fool, just get dressed and fall in. We're gonna go back and kick those drow's asses. Looking to the casters, he assumes some of them, especially the ones conserving their more powerful spells, were wizards. He hadn't known many wizards, but he did know that without their book you could wear em down, one spell at a time, until they were easy to capture. And he wanted his damn axes. Right? We are still going back? If so, I'm gonna go catch up with the drow who were nice enough to bring Nilvae back to us.

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 watched Nilvae's... episode... with hesitation. He reached out towards her, but, looking down at his clawed hand, wondered what comfort he could give this woman. Or any person, in this monstrous form. Perhaps his mind and words could soothe what ailed her. Speaking in perfect elvish, or as perfect as his fanged mouth could manage, he saidCalm down miss. You're safe..errrrr... with us. Finding his mind as useful in social situations as it ever was, he cursed himself inwardly and responded to the invisible man. I can't ask any of you to die for my spellbook... but I do vote we go back. And second that we send our invisible man ahead to scout the situation, if we do indeed go back. Which I support. Uh.... yes.

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 13/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: - Nilvae jumps a bit, until the "spirit in her clothes" takes on a familiar voice. Haha, very funny, Borth. she says as she starts to put her clothes back on. It is a magic trick, it has to be! There is nothing on me otherwise. She sighs. Borthan gave her some clarity in the matter. Even if she was cursed by the drow witch, said spell was surely linked to her person and not her clothes or belongings. Back there? For a third time? Some times I begin to wonder who of us two is truly the mad one. Nilvae smiles and stands up. Her eyes are looking for Faedryl. Are you positive you want to go back? The whole outpost is commanded to see you imprisoned. And I highly suspect to have been enchanted, or cursed, or be divined upon. She puts out her arms in a 45 degree angle waiting to be inspected. Show me the curse, Faedryl!

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Go back? No animal goes back to the cave of their captors. Why? Stool inquires. He ceases the magic and agrees. Go ahead, invisible man. Stool pauses to think, then you can feel the myconid sighing mentally. Stool will aid you against better judgment.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Nilvae certainly did seem mad enough to be enchanted. "The quaggoths were dispatched quickly enough. If we can catch the drow, we should at least try to do so. Picking them off now will only help us in the future." She didn't care for Nilvae's loud outbursts, but she'd best put the mind at ease. "If you are enchanted, then it's better to get it over with and remove the source of the problem, rather than flee or worry about it. Addressing it head on is the only solution to us." She'd prefer time to burn the quaggoth bodies to prevent them fighting the party a third time, but time was against them and catching the drow was more important. With an apparent agreement struck, she - and Sarith, quietly - follow behind Borthan.

[RandomWombat]

Taking off after the drow, Borthan climbs over the dead quaggoth, breaking into a run to catch up. But they must be moving quickly as well, because he doesn't see them ahead as he goes. Eventually he reaches the mouth of the great cavern Velkynvelve is hidden above, in a nest of spider webs among the stalactites.

From the cavern mouth to the lift is too far for him to see. But if he ventures closer, he sees a pair of drow being hauled up on the lift.


Behind him, the rest of the group moves steadily, now with Nilvae once more. And her pet spider, which crawls along peering at them with eyes that glint with more intelligence than they should. "We should probably figure out how we're getting up there," Topsy points out. She's still watching Nilvae with some suspicion towards her motives, as well.

"It's simple, my dear. Oh yes. We just have the spider carry us up one by one..." Buppido speaks up again, in his unnaturally smooth and almost melodic tone.

"Genius," the gnome responds with sarcasm that flies far under Buppido's radar.

"Are you going to go first?" Jimjar asks him.

"Naturally. These drow must be shown the error of standing in the way of my destiny."

Spoiler: Nature DC 10

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Nilvae's spider may be able to carry a few of them up along the walls and to the guard post bridge, using a web net. Whether it can be done without being detected is another story.

Ront and Derendil are definitely too heavy for even a spider as large as this to carry, though.

Spoiler: Sarith

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The question of how to assail Velkynvelve is a difficult one. Even bypassing the first defense of knowing there is an outpost at all, it is built high above the cavern for the express purpose of making it next to impossible to attack. Even if they were somehow able to get someone up the lift, which can only be operated from above, the drow would undoubtedly be waiting. It would be like sending lambs to the slaughter.

[Amnestic]

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "Much as I'd like to see you all flail about and die horribly," Sarith drawls, the smug in his tone unmissable even by the densest of fools, "The drow will be watching the lift. Any who climb up there will be sitting webbirds, easily picked off. If you wish to show the outpost their error, you had best consider another plan." Faedryl says nothing, but her expression is one of impatience and urging. It tells him enough on his own. "Perhaps we could pretend to be captured prisoners once more, using some shifting magic, and disguises, and simply have them lower the lift for us, then all go up together and take them by surprise." There were precious few avenues of attack on the outpost, by design, and their options were limited.

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "Alternatively, we have a relatively safe source of food that is...passable. The stores of the outpost are limited. If we destroy the lift, we could simply starve them out." She pauses to consider this further. They would have to leave the outpost by the same route that the prisoners had - the water, with the ooze, where the party might be prepared for them. "Unless- She cuts off Sarith. "Unless Ilvara or Asha have some way to conjure food, yes. Do they?" Sarith shrugs in response to her question. While she didn't expect him to have a full list of spells it would be nice if he knew something so they weren't taken by surprise. If the priestesses could conjure food, then it raised a question why they were so reliant on the food stores. Perhaps it was simple drow arrogance and laziness. They kept the spells to themselves instead of sharing them with others. Would they let their troops starve? Probably not. That would cause rebellion to ferment.

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 13/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: - Trickery is my forte, but to be perfectly honest, I am not fond in leading the way into the spider's den once again, or try my basic tricks against two priests. If this assault should work, I might need my fey magic and my own magic book back. Luckily I can summon mine from within the armory. I just need a knife. As Nilvae lends herself a dagger, cuts a strand of her blonde hair and pricks her finger. Now, how does this go again. And do I need a spider's fang for that or no? she half-jokes in Mr Spide's direction. She looks around the group. I need to figure this one out again. I am always so clumsy with finnicky things like that. My plan is the following: We pretend to be drow guards, Bort and I. Between us, we project a gagged and bound Faedryl and Nilvae. Mr Spide's coloring should not matter at a distance. Spoiler Show Requesting a short rest for HP, spell slots and finally getting my grimoire back.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Stool extrudes his spores once again. Stool will go look. Climb inside as lizard, tiny one. Then Stool can be anything. Spider-friend can carry us, Stool as Spider can too. With these words, the myconid's bodily features warp inward, turning his insides out, not that this was any different, eventually resulting in a discolored beige lizard. Stool shall be back soon.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "Would your illusions travel up with the lift?" It's not an accusatory question to put the plan down, it's fact finding. In her experience illusions were generally fairly static once made, save the advanced constructs, and they'd be more likely to simply phase through the lift's floor than be carried up along with them, but if there was a way around that then that would certainly expand their options.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Conditions: Concentrating on: We can claim the road got unblocked. Reinforcements on their way. Someone who can lie, anyway. Borthan nodded with Nilvae's plan, and he didn't discourage Stool's either. He wanted his damn axes back.

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: I will wait for lift. Too heavy. Derendil's pidgin undercommon doesn't portray his anxiety fully, but his nervous shuffling might.

[RandomWombat]

"If the little mushroom can transform into wall-climbing lizards, maybe we don't need to assault the outpost at all," cuts in Topsy as they share their plans. "While the outpost is preoccupied with us out here, it could just sneak inside and get back our belongings."

Clicking his tongue, Buppido speaks in disagreement. "It would be such a disappointment to leave anyone here to trouble us later, if we can solve the problem all at once." Ront pounds a fist into his palm, the orc seemingly itching to pay back the drow who captured and drugged him as much as anyone here.

"Blubt if we slaubhter them all, you miss ble chance to conblimbse ble rank and file of your cause," Speaking up from near Faedryl, Shuushar appeals to her in particular. "Perhaps all we need is a chance to conblimbse one of them."

Spoiler: Sarith

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With the size of the lift, they would be able to send at most two people up with Nilvae and Borthan in disguise. And two people at most could go up with Stool and 'Mr. Spide' if they traversed the wall to reach the prison cells. Maybe more could fit somewhere if they double up on gnomes.

While they discuss plans, the lift is drawn back up, and the passengers get off at the top.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "I'm not going to put us at risk for the sake of my own ideals. If they don't wish to listen to me then..." She sighs. "Well they made their choice, and we all have to live and die by our choices. If the lighter ones go with Stool and the spider, we can have everyone up top in only two lift trips, either under cover of deception or if one of us mans the lift while the rest hold off the attackers." "Even though we - I - wasn't able to convince Asha, Ilvara doesn't know that. We can still play the two of them against each other, hopefully get them to waste some time and effort killing each other, then finish off the one that's left."

[RandomWombat]

The Cavern

Falling back into the mouth of the tunnel, far out of view of the drow darksight, the motley crew settles in to wait for Stool. Nilvae takes the time to sit and- well, calling it prayer would be strange, but it's not entirely meditation either. She conducts the ritual to conjure her Book of Shadows, while gathering her strength and allowing the well of magical allowance inside of her to recharge.

The Outpost

In the form of a slimy little cave gecko, Stool's sticky graspers climb easily up the walls of the cavern to the dizzying heights above. He can see that the bridge they burned down has been reconstructed, or at least a replacement rigged together out of spare wood and spider silk, now more of a suspension bridge. Ironically the silken railings that help hold it up probably make it safer than before.

None of the drow have noticed him climbing up, and he can see a pair in the guardpost. But instead he slips around to peek at the shrine. There he finds Asha standing outside of it with a few other drow. While he tries to crawl along the wall as naturally as he can approximate for the little reptile he appears to be, the drow officer spots him and reaches out to try and pluck him from the wall. Stool tries to slip out of his grasp, but he is apprehended by the tail and dangled in the air.

"Mistress, would you like me to grill it up for you?" he asks Asha, next to him. She glances over and makes a face at the sticky, dangling lizard.

"No, eat it if you want," she waves a hand dismissively. The drow nods his head and begins walking past her towards the commons area, carrying the dangling lizard.

Spoiler: OOC

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Stool has been Grappled by the Drow Elite.

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 13/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful, Beast Speech (1h), Mask of Many Faces (1h, male drow guard) Concentration: - Gaining a much needed breather, Nilvae calms herself aside from the inner turmoil the demons caused. She focussed, and a circle of fungi appeared around her. these so-called fairy rings where often known to be the places where the fey congregated; or powerful leylines combined themselves. From the middle of the circle, a mushroom slowly grows throughout the hour. It glows in every color imaginable, and when finished, it explodes into a cloud of spores, revealing a folio bound between two oaken rinds. Such a book was not known by mortals, and just a few selected binder of the fey and even fewer powerful druids got to see one of these. If Stool were present he would be amazed. Regardless, Nilvae seems less than impressed and more annoyed by the long time the book needed to reappear. After she was finished, she took on the appearance of what she thought a less than noteworthy male drow would look like.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Stool tried to remain calm and tried to go through his options. Was this a lizard that could take off their own tail? Was this a poisonous lizard? Spoiler Show Bite attack on self to bite off his own tail (taking me down from 2 to 1 hp), then move away to find a tiny hole to hide. If that is not possible, I will use Pacifying Spores vs the drow Con save (1d20+1)[11]

[RandomWombat]

The Outpost

Detaching his tail, gecko-Stool drops from the drow's grasp. At first the drow doesn't even realize it still carrying the dangling tail between two fingers. Taking advantage of this, Stool slips inside of the shrine through the crack beneath the door- the only hole available to slink into. Inside he sees an undead spider standing perfectly still atop a pile of cushions, facing the door. But his presence has escaped its notice so far.

He's in.

Spoiler: OOC

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Rolled a Stealth for Stool in the Discord after he gets free. He got a 19, beating everything's passive perception for now.

[Spore]

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Avoiding the undead spider for now, Stool squeezes through the trap door presented. He would transform into a fungus person if unattended and stuff anything into his myconid pouch, then transform back.

[RandomWombat]

The Outpost

From the trapdoor, a rope ladder descends into a lavishly furnished room crammed into the small space offered by the stalactite. The walls are draped with a black mesh resembling a spider's web, extending from a central spot on the ceiling to hang down like curtains. In two positions the web curtains can be pulled away to reveal arrowslit windows that overlook the cavern far below. Little peepholes from which the mistress can survey her domain. Beneath is the dark, clear water of the pond. A potential avenue of escape.

Thick, woven spider silk mats and pillows cover the floor, a low platform against one wall heaped with them to form a divan-like bed. It is presently messy and stinks of copulation. The mistress has not had time to clean since the prison break interrupted her session. At the foot of the bed sits a heavy wooden chest of black-stained zurkhwood, bound shut with a gleaming steel lock.

One corner of the chamber contains a wooden table and two cushioned chairs, with a silver-framed mirror set upon the wall behind it. Another holds a smaller shrine to Lolth draped in white silk. Near the smaller shrine is another trapdoor leading further below, this one lacking any of the blemishes that allowed Stool to slip through in lizard form. But there are no visible locks.

[Spore]

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Lizard-Stool melts into a small puddle of greyish viscous liquid. From this liquid, quickly another small myconid forms, identical to the last. He checks the sanctum for keys or any other useable items, after which he checks the chest for any damages. When I find a key: I open and loot the chest. When I find other loot: Describe it and I will decide if this is enough to help. If I find nothing and the chest cannot be pried open: I will continue throught the unlocked trap door. Spoiler Show In order: Perception to find a key (1d20)[13] +5 if Perception -1 if Investigation. +3 if Wis (Investigation). Using Shillelagh to grow in between any splint of the chest, casting the spell to pry it open (1d20+5)[16] (1d8+3)[5] (wis to attack and damage as per spell).

[RandomWombat]

The Outpost

After returning to his true form, Stool gives the room a once over. There is no sign of the key to the chest, but Stool finds a hidden compartment inside of the mirror which contains a few strange devices and concoctions the purposes of which his little mushroom mind can't really imagine.

Spoiler: OOC

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Makeup and beauty products, such as lipstick and eyeliner.

Were he more familiar with the workings of this strange mechanism keeping the chest closed, maybe he could pop it open using some of these long, narrow things in the compartment. But instead he opts for the brute force approach.

Sliding the edge of the improvised club into the crack around the rim of the chest's opening, Stool channels magic into it to reinforce it and cause it to grow. It is suffused with green light that shimmers across its surface and he pries as hard as he can, working to keep it wedged in and not come loose. After some effort, there is the sound of something snapping and the lid pops open, giving Stool a look at what's inside.

Spoiler: Chest

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Inside is:
-Silk lingerie and dresses
-A ceremonial silver chain headdress, bearing several onyx stones
-A bag shut with a drawstring containing two bottles of red liquid
-A leather purse containing 24 gp, 30 sp, and a small moonstone
-A Spell Component Pouch
-A folded, black silk tablecloth
-A scroll marked with a wax seal depicting buzzing insects
-The party's starting equipment, all or most of it neatly contained in their backpacks!

As he looks over the spoils, however, Stool feels a numbness in his core. He detects a small, thin needle has shot out of the lock mechanism when he broke it open and jabbed into his body.

Spoiler: OOC

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Stool takes 1 piercing damage from a trap (his Investigate found the hidden mirror compartment, but was too low to find the trap).
Stool must make a DC 13 Con save or be Poisoned for 1 hour. If he fails by 5 or more, he also falls unconscious.

[Spore]

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 27/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Stool pulls out the little needles and licks it. Hmm, tastes like poison. he thinks and throws it away. Stool sifts through everything, examining and "tasting" a few things. He knew liquids and gems could be potions or useful for rituals, but most exciting was the finding of the backpacks. He rummages quietly, only taking the bare necessities with him. He rearranges two backpacks with small light items including the gems, gold pieces, a spell component pouch, the two bottles, the scroll and the onyx bedazzled headdress. He takes a gander at whether he is able to add the makeup and a decent dress for Nilvae with him (in that order), thinking the woman could at least need a bit between her and the environment as humanoids cover their skin so often. When done, he turns back into a lizard and exits.

[RandomWombat]

The Outpost

As he rearranges things and stuffs the backpacks full, Stool finds there is plenty enough room for the strange products inside the mirror, as well as the fine black dress.

But that's where the good news ends. Stool hears footsteps above, approaching the trapdoor. No time to investigate the next floor below. Transforming, Stool climbs out through a tiny slit window and drops into the cold water below. Thankfully the papers and other water-soluble things are safely stowed inside of... wherever they go when he transforms.

Regrouping

After a tense wait, Borthan spots a little lizard crawling towards them from the water's direction. Nilvae is still performing her meditative ritual at this point, but is nearing completion. Between the climb and poking around the room, Stool was gone for a while.

[Spore]

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Lizard-Stool produces a cloud of spores after which he summons his physical form from a puddle again, this time nearly twice as large as he has simply engorged a few backpacks in his "stomach". He vomits out a veritable smorgasbord of gear, along with lingerie, a bit of makeup, gems and a headdress. He takes the slimy dress to Nilvae and signals her mentally. For you!

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 23/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful, Beast Speech (1h), Mask of Many Faces (1h, male drow guard) Concentration: - Recalling her book took much out of Nilvae, and her new form was not surprising to Stool anymore. Taking the slimy dress, she tried to muster a smile, but looked at Faedryl with eyes that screamed 'Help me'. That was even too much for the insane half-elf. Now still proceed for the assault? she inquires, wanting Borthan's magic to be saved until the last second.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- She tries not to let her eagerness take over as Stool produces their equipment, but she spots her backpack immediately and crouches down by it, cleaning it of any slime or dirt with a small word and gesture. Absentmindedly, almost offhand, she does the same for the dress Nilvae is holding, without even looking up. It wasn't all here - her armour and weapons were missing, but they were easily replaced. No sentiment there. Poking, prodding, she eventually finds...yes. Her spellbook. Untouched, undamaged. The shapeshifting myconid had recovered it, along with her component pouch. She was back to full strength. She carefully stores the spellbook on her person rather than in her bag, letting the weight of it press against her like a reassuring hand. She barely listens as she stores her gear, feeling some real safety and security for the first time since her capture. So much of it had been bravado - not empty bravado, but hollowed slightly. Now she was whole again. Finally, after a rude few minutes of not answering the question that she heard but ignored. "If we've got all the supplies we need back then I have an alternate idea - we bait down the lift and then I set it alight. Strand them in the outpost where they can't follow or harass us anymore. Maybe they starve. Maybe they don't, but if their only path down is through the ooze pool they'll probably choose to wait it out and spend days or weeks repairing the lift instead." "I wouldn't mind the chance to erase Ilvara from our plate permanently, but they do have superior terrain on us. Since we've recovered our effects - mostly - it might be better to trap them and let them rot."

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Conditions: Concentrating on: Borthan grunted a Thanks, kid. to Stool and began going through his things, checking to see what might be missing. Armor gone, but that had been replaced. Longbow gone, but that was a lot more useful on the surface compared to down here. His searching became more frantic, until he got to the bottom of his bag, and then his smile grew. He withdrew two hatchets from his bag and spun them. One was inlaid with bronze depicting an angry faced shining sun, with the grey dwarf word for "sun" stamped into the haft. The other was inlaid with silver, depicting a moon with a wicked, evil grin, with "moon" stamped into the haft. They were perfectly sized and weighted for Borthan's grips. They were his most prized possessions. They were the only gift Vrek ever gave him. And they were his again. He strapped on his belts, which had two loops perfectly sized for the hatchets. Alright, alright, alright! I agree with Faedryl. Screw this place, screw the priestess, and screw working with the drow EVER again. He looked at Faedryl and Sarith for a second before adding Present company excluded.

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 wordlessly searched for his own spell component pouch and spell book, and perhaps even more importantly a pair of rough pants that fit him better than the damn loincloth. Excuse me for a moment, please. He ducked out of sight and got changed, strapping his book and pouch to a roughshod belt. When he returned to the group, he looked at least a tad more civilized. I would be happy to put this place behind us, revenge or no.

[Spore]

Nilvae Half-Elf Warlock AC: 13 HP: 13/23 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) Conditions: fearful Concentration: Beast Speech (1h) Unarmored but actually fully dressed for once, Nilvae took a mental note not to apply her illusion too early. Well then. After we have hindered the drow, we should get a few miles between us and the outpost. After that, we should discuss what to do next. Because I am all out of ideas honestly. Stool squeals beside her and after a silent minute or so, Nilvae says: Stool asks us to guide him back home. He promised the community there and Psilofyr, their god, will aid us in our endeavors. He even will accept Sarith's presence if Borthan keeps an eye on him. Anyone got a better idea?

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: - Concentration: - Stool was glad to be of assistance, and happily hummed. With a bit of time between everyone else rummaging in their loot, he starts investigating the makeup and lingerie. He puts off his bucket armor and puts on the drow underwear, with the lacy bustier on top of his slimy head. After being done, he smells and licks the makeup, which turns a few parts of his now apparent intestinal system a decent dark-red.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "We're in the Underdark, you'll never be rid of drow." Well, not unless the matron mothers stayed in control and continued the inevitable slump into drow failure only to have to rebuild their race. Again. "Since we're in agreement, lets get this over with. Keep out of range. Sarith, do the honours. Maybe smear some mud on you first before you go forward." She points him at the lift as she walks forward, dropping her stance from confident strides into a defeated slump. Quietly she clasps her hands behind her back, miming shackles around her wrists. If they could make her out from the top of the lift, they would see someone in custody.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Part of him should bristle at the commands she's giving, but part of him finds following them as natural as breathing. He's conditioned to submit, even as half his mind chafes at the thought. Crouching, he scoops up mud and grime and smears at across his face and hair, dirtying it. Then he draws his crossbow, pointing it at the 'captured' Faedryl who he marches forward. "Anyone up there?" he coughs a hoarse voice, distinct from his natural speaking tone towards the outpost. Someone must be listening even if they had fewer troops. "I've captured a traitor female." He doesn't keep his eyes raised, dropping his vision to avoid anyone looking too closely at his face, even at a distance.

[RandomWombat]

Each of the other misfits steps forward to claim their belongings in turn.

Spoiler: OOC

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Dworic and Eldeth's starting items are also here, including extra tinder, some extra rope, an old dwarven guard uniform, and a Gauntlgrym military scout's insignia of rank.

Buppido withdraws an old, stained white dress shirt and pants which he gleefully changes into. Thankfully he at least has the small measure of awareness to change his pants out of view of everyone else. He is less careful putting on the shirt. It is hanging open as he returns, buttoning it up. His dull grey chest is carved with a strange symbol. It is an oval, though the depth makes it appear to be a ring, with the shapes of seven gems set into it.

Spoiler: Religion

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Anyone who succeeded the previous Derro History check's highest tier know this automatically.

Spoiler: DC 5

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Could it be a crown?

Spoiler: DC 15

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The symbol is of Diinkarazan, the Mad God, a figure in Derro history and a significant part of their story of creation. Whether you know much more of that story or not is another question...

Anyone with trained History or Religion who previously failed to fully succeed the Derro check previously can retry it and take the better result.

Spoiler: Perception

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Spoiler: DC 15

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As he fixes the cuffs of his dress shirt, you notice a strange bump beneath the cloth of his left sleeve, which seems stiffer than the other sleeve.

Spoiler: DC 20, or DC 15 if also possessing SoH or Insight Proficiency

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The sleeve likely contains a hidden compartment. Probably a blade, knowing this derro. The way he examines the cuff button suggests it is the trigger.

Plucking a crude pack made out of beast fur out of the pile, Ront looks inside and around, disappointed at the absence of his weapons. He frowns further when he looks inside, perhaps not everything is there. The drow probably ate or stored away any food in their possession already. Ront does pull out a fur cloak made to keep one warm in old climates, donning it.

Jimjar's pack clatters with the sound of dice. He stuffs some cloth in with them to silence their telltale rattling.

The twins retrieve Turvy's spellbook, his wand, and a backup spell component pouch. Topsy produces some lockpicking and trap disarming tools from her pack, which she examines for damages. She also checks the condition of a collapsible spyglass with a green crystal lens. Satisfied both are in fine condition, she stows them away. There is a set of pots, pans and cooking utensils hanging off of the outside of her hiking pack, already muted with protective rubber coating to prevent them from making noise clanging together.

Spoiler: Know Arcana DC 12

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The spyglass is a Darklens, a useful artificer invention coveted by Underdark explorers, which doubles the user's range of vision in the dark and magnifies things that are far away.

It offers little help to those without darkvision, only allowing them to see within about 10 feet as if they had darkvision. The zoom is too disorienting at that range to be useful in a fight.

Though his pack is the lightest, little more than a waterproof pouch, Shuushar still takes out some ointment and applies it to his scales. It seems to be to treat dryness when away from the water.


"A much more sensible plan than climbing up the wall hanging from some spiders," voicing her agreement to Faedryl and Borthan's plan, Topsy puts her backpack back on. "Taking refuge with the myconids isn't the worst idea. But we'll either have to charter a boat with the fishmen or walk around the entire Darklake."

If Shuushar takes offense to the term 'fishman' he doesn't show it. "My peoble are troububbled, but not violent."

"If this is not the time for their downfall, it will come yet," vaguely murmurs Buppido, finished buttoning his shirt.


Taking Faedryl behind him 'in shackles', Sarith approaches the lift. A voice calls down from above not long after, carried down through the echoing cavern, "Have you now? And who are you? None of my men are unaccounted." Ilvara's voice, no mistaking it.

Spoiler: OOC

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Sarith can roll Deception. Depending on how believable his story is he may have Adv or Disadv, so roll twice.

[Amnestic]

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- He glances to the side at Faedryl, but she couldn't speak or move. Sarith was on his own. He coughs loudly, spluttering slightly. "Honoured Priestess, I am Treldal, of Menzoberranzan. Our patrol was sent to check and reinforce the outpost, but on the way we encountered a group of escaped slaves. They were prepared and armed for a fight. Only I survived from my squad. And only this one," Sarith kicks out at the back of Faedryl's knees, forcing her down onto them with a grunt of pain, "I caught. Two more fled into the dark. The rest were killed."

Spoiler: Deception

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(1d20+2)[10] Dis/Adv: (1d20+2)[9]