Out of the Abyss IC

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 11/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: Borthan's eyes go wide at Faedryl's insult, his hands curling into fists. He takes an aggressive step towards her before shooting a look at Sarith. He was pretty sure he could put boot to behind on one drow, but two was a tall order after getting mauled by demons in the last fight. Still, he was not one for backing down. Continuing in elvish, he retorts "You can tell someone's a noble by the way they flap their gums like they know someone won't bust their lip for spoutin' off for something they know nothin' about. You may not have a home to go back to, Melad, and I suppose now, thanks to you, neither do I, you jack ass! If it weren't for your foot stool over there and the fact that I just lost half my blood fightin' on the front lines, I'd lay you out! I'm not one of your beaten down males who will take your self-satisfied superiority crap and ask for seconds with a smile!" Then he turns to the retreating Yisa and barks a few words in duergar accented dwarvish. "If there's a real map hidden in that case then you'll have those exits guarded within a few days of getting back to the Stronghold, and if there isn't than this group is no threat to the Clan's security. Either way, you better clear out before they start thinkin' about how easy you handed that over. You tell Vrek what I said."

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 19/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- She doesn't roll her eyes at the tirade from Borthan, though she certainly does think it. When she speaks she's calm, but drow superiority is a hard tone to kick. "You know Borthan, you're absolutely right, I wouldn't want to deprive you of a place to stay by letting these slavers go." Any moral qualms she has about the betrayal she's perpetrating, going back on her word, is quashed by her own mental justification: they were slavers, letting them leave could put put them in future danger, and could deprive Borthan of a home. Weighing the scales, it seemed to her that taking them down was the best thing for the group. She gestures to Sarith to begin the attack, weaving the gesture into begin her spellcasting. "Lets do this quick."

Spoiler: OOC

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As discussed, we're going to combat.
Faedryl made her passive insight - (2d20)[13][7](20) +2
Sarith does not (1d20+4)[6]

[Spore]

Nilvae | Eye-Gore Half-Elf Warlock | Lamp Blighter AC: 13 HP: 23/23| AC 13 HP: 3/12 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) | PP: 11 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: fearful | Beast Speech Concentration: - In anger, desperation and fear, but not of duergar, Nilvae finally pipes up, shouting. WOULD ALL OF YOU GET TO GRIPS ALREADY? WE ARE FACING A GODS DAMNED DEMON INVASION AND ALL YOU GUYS ARE LOOKING FOR IS IMPROVING YOUR PERSONAL POSITION? Even her familiar is shocked by the emotional outburst, and he is a fey that was warned Nilvae was a bit unstable. Stool hides behind Borthan. Nilvae takes a deep breath, knowing she shouldn't continue shouting if she wanted an audience. Are you actually this dense in believing the demons would stop once their summoners have what their goal was? The fiends will rampage on the material plane, Underdark or not. This and only this should be our primary concern. I do not subscribe to slavery, and I see your duplicious methods Ylsa. Call back your damn warriors or we will murder you. But this is not the time for more bloodshed. We are denizens of this world, we should look into this demon thing, not go at each other's throats. There is enough time aftert his incident. Ylsa you should warn your clan that demons are running amok, and they are murdering drow and duergar alike. They are an enemy to all live. Calming down, Nilvae is covered in cold sweat and shaking. The issue shook her to the core, and her touch with insanity is not helping. Spoiler Show Instead of fighting, Nilvae opts for Persuasion, hopefully with advantage from Stool. (2d20)[10] 12 or 7 +6

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: Symbiotic Entity (12 tHP) Concentration: - Stool is extruding a nearly invisible cloud of sweet spores, basically agreeing to Nilvae's thoughts. Yellow hair woman is right. Demons a threat to life. We can go different ways and help our families. Warn all others.

[RandomWombat]

"Call back my warriors to be murdered, you mean, Ylsa answers Nilvae in a deadpan as she goes for a dagger tucked into her boot. Her face is set like stone, and she growls at Borthan in Elvish, "Treacherous Shadow. I should never have trusted a drow-blood." There are sounds of movement as some of the invisible duergar begin to scatter, their new locations unknown.

Spoiler: Combat Logs

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Duergar Soulblades move invisibly, passing Stealth to conceal their new positions.

Borthan is up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Duergar Soulblade - n20 (23)

Borthan - 23
Topsy - 22
Jimjar - 19

Ylsa - 19

Robed Trog - 16
Faedryl - 15
Nilvae, Eyegore, Stool - 14.6

Duergar Footgar - 13

Ront - 11
Turvy - 11
Sarith - 6
Derendil - 6
Shuushar - 3

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 11/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Dodge Concentrating on: Borthan growls out a response in dwarvish as he draws his battle axes. "I was appealing to their better natures! Too bad I forgot that everyone down here is a bastard! NOW TURN INVISIBLE AND FLEE YOU GOTDAMN IDIOT!" Borthan raises his axes defensively, crossing them to give himself the best defense possible... and steps in front of Yisa, turning his back to her and placing himself between the duergar and his allies, specifically minding Sarith's crossbow. In undercommon, he says "I won't fight you all! But I will ask you one more time. DO NOT ****ING DO THIS! Are we no better than them?!? And do you really think you can hunt down a half dozen invisible duergar in the dark!?! I don't kill wounded prisoners, and neither should you!"

Spoiler: OOC

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Dodge action. Move in front of Yisa. Choose the neutral path. For poops and giggles, here's a persuasion check- (1d20-1)[11]

[RandomWombat]

Drawing her dagger, Topsy disregards Ylsa and Borthan, focusing on the duergar whose locations are unknown. The gnome's analytic gaze scans their surroundings and she points out, "Something stepped in spider blood there," she points at bootprints in dried ichor leading west, then she turns and faces Sarith. "I heard the other one run over there you, they should be near you!"

Running forward, Jimjar reaches up and places a hand on Faedryl's arm. "Borthan is right, and Nilvae has a point too. There's a greater evil at play here, why murder people we just went through the effort of saving?" he pleads, leaving his weapon holstered. Taking the chance to cut and run with her crew, Ylsa wastes no more time on words and scrambles over the fallen steeder and slides back to the ground on the other side.

From the sidelines, the newly freed troglodyte speaks up as well, "I have information about the demonss. Pleasse, the dwarvess are vile, but they are not the true enemy."

Spoiler: Combat Logs

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Borthan moves between Sarith and Ylsa and Dodges.
Topsy uses active Perception to track the invisible Duergar. She uses ranged Help to give Sarith Advantage on his next attack roll.
Jimjar gives Borthan Advantage on his Persuasion roll.

Ylsa Disengages from Faedryl and attempts to flee.

Faedryl and Spore's characters are up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Duergar Soulblade - n20 (23)

Borthan - 23
Topsy - 22
Jimjar - 19

Ylsa - 19

Robed Trog - 16
Faedryl - 15
Nilvae, Eyegore, Stool - 14.6

Duergar Footgar - 13

Ront - 11
Turvy - 11
Sarith - 6
Derendil - 6
Shuushar - 3

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 19/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- She's glaring daggers into Borthan, and for a moment her glyphs are pointed directly at him - but she holds, the spell incomplete. Her elven comes out in a moment. "So we should wait for their daggers in our back? Trust the good word of slavers that they'll let us live free, that they're not collecting our names for their capture list? Would you have trusted the same with drow?" She spits to one side, her hand still clutching the gleaming spellwork in front of her. Runes of flame that pulse with energy, ready to be unleashed. With her mind she lashes out past the half-elf, thrusting Ylsa's cover aside with her mind to reveal the Duergar once more. The dead wouldn't cover her from Faedryl. She makes sure they lock eyes, that Ylsa sees what's coming - but doesn't arrive. "Fine, let them leave!" She calls out in Undercommon. "And let them know the name Ilvarra. If they want to take their vengeance, they can try to hunt me."

Spoiler: Actions

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Bonus Action: TK shove the fallen steeder aside, making clear that Ylsa's cover is pointless.
Ready Action: Create Bonfire under the feet of any duergar who appear. DC14 Dex (1d8)[8] fire damage.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 11/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: Borthan locks eyes with Faedryl when he responds. "Will a Grey Dwarf grief you for more coin? Draw on you when they think you're weak? Bind you in chains if they come across you when you're poopin'? All 9 Hells yes, they will! But will they break their word once it is given? Doubtful. They'll twist that promise every which way they can for an advantage, but not break it. I'm here today because a duergar who had every reason not to kept a promise to a slave. They might be slaving, evil, scum-of-the-earth sunnuvabitches, but they are not known for breaking oaths once struck. That's why I prefer them to drow! Trustin' your kin to honor their word is what got me here in the first place!"

[Spore]

Nilvae | Eye-Gore Half-Elf Warlock | Lamp Blighter AC: 13 HP: 23/23| AC 13 HP: 3/12 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) | PP: 11 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: fearful | Beast Speech Concentration: - You're all idiots. Run as fast as you can, dwarf. We have fey magics and nature on our side. We have the greater number, and you have no quarry with us. Nilvae says referring to not only her magic, but also drow magic, Borthan's skills and Stool's magic. Spoiler Show Preparing to cast Faerie Fire on herself if she is to be attacked by creatures that stay invisible.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 28/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: Symbiotic Entity (12 tHP) Concentration: - Stool just hums sadly as his weapon grows again.

[RandomWombat]

The duergar do not call back any further words, to taunt the party or otherwise. Soon there is only the silence of the crossroads, broken by their own internal bickering.

"We should probably have decided on a plan for what to do with the dwarves before we got here," the gnomish rogue points out, still holding her dagger in hand and glancing around as if expecting a counter-ambush any moment.

"Blubt dhere was no reason to adtack dhem," Shuushar counters in his nasally, gurgling voice.

"Now we get what they left behind," baring his tusks in an orcish grin, Ront points at the three abandoned wagons, shedding some light on perhaps a silver lining in this chaotic mess.


While the others discuss the duergar and their potential abandoned treasures in the wagons' now less-hidden compartments, Turvy approaches the troglodyte they freed. "You uh, said you knew something, about, about the demons," he mutters nervously, not used to taking an active role with others.

"Yess. I wass ssent by the Ssociety of Brilliance to invesstigate the risse of demonic activity. It sstruck the entire Northdark, all at once." Looking past the fidgeting gnome at the others, and chiefly towards Borthan, she offers up her shackled arms. "May we disscusss thiss with thesse off?"

Spoiler: Combat Logs

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With those aggressing standing down, the duergar flee without taking violent action.

Spoiler: Loot

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The compartments of the duergar slave wagons contain:
-1 Mithril Warpick (1d12 damage, 2h, Heavy piercing weapon (effectively a piercing Greataxe); Mithril is half as heavy as steel, and treated as Silver)
-1 Heavy Crossbow
-2 quivers of Heavy Crossbow bolts
-4 rolls of Toilet Paper
-12 sets of Manacles and accompanying keys (the one the trog is wearing included)
-4 doses of Synthetic Venom (Injury Poison; DC 10 Con for half vs 3d6 poison damage)
-3 doses of Sedative (Ingested Poison; DC 14 Con save or take 1 level of Exhaustion) contained in special Sedative Darts which can inject their payload to deliver it as an Injury Poison
-4 vials of Acid

Spoiler: Steeders

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Steeders have an acidic venom in their bite. With a DC 15 Nature check, acid can be milked from each dead spider's acid gland into a flask or bottle, producing a vial of Acid. If the check is failed by less than 5, the vial is still obtained, but the milker takes 1d6 acid damage. If it is failed by 5 or more, they take acid damage and gain no vial.

-An unidentified magical Wand made out of stone and set with a topaz

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 19/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- There's a glimmer as Faedryl pulls her hand together and lets the spell drop, the brief light it cast out disappearing into the darkness. "Well, I confess I had no idea that Borthan held such affection for slavers, especially after he was so eager to offer alms to the group of slaves earlier." She says it with the air of someone who doesn't really care either way - but she's twisting a knife in. When they next found a group of escaped slaves, or remnants of those taken, she hopes he would remember this moment, when he chose to let them go. Wounded prisoners of demons or no, they would now go on to cause more harm. Harm that could have been stopped by Faedryl and the group. But what was done was done. She leaves the trog to the others and works on harvesting the remnants of the duergar caravan, making sure to grab anything of value. The topaz-inset wand is of particular attention to her, and once she's taken what they need, she sets about in teasing apart the weave of the wand to discover its powers.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: There's a moment of disappointment in his heart when the duergar choose to flee instead of die, but it wasn't his decision to make and...wait, why wasn't it? He had a voice, the same as the rest of them. Yet he'd fallen into line so quickly, obediently, without a second thought. Maybe it was simply because it offered more chances to die. Maybe it was because he had nothing else to do or live for. Maybe...maybe she was right, and that he was just following along because of the way the drow had made him. So wrapped up in his own thoughts that he instead chooses to focus on reclaiming some of his spent bolts, taking a moment to grab some additional ones from the dwarves' stash. Whatever voice he wanted to offer now...he didn't feel like it was 'his'. Not truly.

Spoiler: OOC

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Sarith's grabbing the heavy crossbow bolts unless someone wants to claim the other heavy crossbow, in which case he'll split them.

Lootdoc updated.

Absent any other activities, Faedryl's going to spend the hour waiting for the demons waking up on identifying the stone wand.

[RandomWombat]

Taking time to meditate upon the object as the group takes a short rest, Faedryl lets her personal Weave run in and through it, feeling the contours of the magic within

Spoiler: The Wand

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Faedryl senses the base functions of the Stoneshaper. It holds 3 Charges. By spending 1 Charge, the wielder can use it as a Stonemason's Tools, greatly accelerating the work mason's by cutting and shifting stone using magic, functioning similarly to the Mold Earth spell, but affecting solid stone. It regains 1 Charge each day.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 11/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: "Slavers are scum. But I don't exterminate scum unless I'm paid. Are you gonna tell me that the Melad's did all their own dishes and cooked their own meals, Faedryl? Does the fact that you benefitted from slavery mean I should kill you, too? I'm not the smartest man in the world, but I know if you look at things in black in white everyone deserves to die. No one is innocent, and I don't have the time or energy to execute the whole damn world." Borthan spits a bit of blood on the stone and turns away. "Meant what I said. Push me again and you get pushed back harder. Simple as that." Borthan leaves it at that as he approaches Shushar to ask for some bandages.

Prince Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Sanity 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (0hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil looked to Borthan, then to Faedryl, then back. He opened his mouth, then let his jaw go slack as he realized he had no words to aid the situation. The two of them were acting in some form of leadership position for the group, and it seems for now they were at odds. He didn't trust himself to settle this feud in one swift social blow, but he would do his best to mend the fracture in their group given time. He only hoped his efforts would not be too late to prevent a more severe split.

[Spore]

Nilvae | Eye-Gore Half-Elf Warlock | Lamp Blighter AC: 13 HP: 23/23| AC 13 HP: 3/12 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) | PP: 11 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: fearful | Beast Speech Concentration: - Nilvae sides with Turvy, confident the gnome would need a bit of argumentative backup. Can you tell us more about this Society? What is their goal? It sounds very mage-y to me, to be perfectly honest.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 0 of 3 d10 HD. Borthan sat stoically as He was bandaged, thanked Shushar quietly and in a single monosyllable, then spends time sorting through loot. He briefly considered milking the spiders for venom, but he didn't trust his skill enough to attempt to harvest them unscathed. Plus, they were flush with poison as is. He took three vials if no one stopped him, turning to first Jimjar, then Topsy, then after a moment's pause to Sarith to pass out the others.. I think we can make the most of these. Don't hesitate to use em, because believe it or not poisons can go bad. Ront is more blunt damage, Big Un' probably doesn't want to rub this stuff on his claws, and the rest are magic or... whatever that thing is." He gestures at Eyegore with a shiver. It was only after the loot had been dispersed that Borthan did his best to get the chains off the troglodyte. Once freed, he would offer them some dried meat. I know the Grays keep you hungry. Keep you weak. When they feed you well is when they want you to do something, so you're on a buzz in your starved brain. Welcome to freedom, such as it is. You're with a bands of miscreant escapees from a rough part of the Underdark where bad people were doing terrible things to slightly nicer people. I won't bore you with the details, but it was a bonding experience, as you can see from how nice we are to each other." He gestures vaguely in Faedryl's direction with no shortage of sarcasm. We've got different goals, but for now we function relatively effectively for each other's interests. Some are headin' for the surface. Some are tryin' to get home. Some ain't got no home to go back to. Either way, each day is different. But I'm not smart enough to pont-if-ek-cate about it." He tosses the chains down and gestures to Turvy and the hezrou in turn. "So on to the gnome's question. What's this pit-damned thing doing here?"

Prince Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Sanity 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (0hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil would approach Faedryl as people were being dispersed for a moment's respite. Speaking in haughty high elvish, we posited. I think you'll catch more gnats with honey than vinegar with that one." he leveled his feline eyes on Borthan pointedly. "He's... shown a weak psyche so far. And he has a strange set of ethics about him. He's conflicted. If you provoke him he may lose his temper, and that could spell the end for the unity this group seems to operate under. If not him..." he looks pointedly to Ront as he was rooting through the dueregar's belongings, finding a coin and testing it with his teeth. "Then we may fracture. Which does not suit anyone's goals. Does my logic follow?" He came across as cautious with his words, as though he were communicating with a particularly dangerous snake who happened to be making decisions for him. He was still not... used... to following in the footsteps of a Drow, and now he followed two and a half of them. But he was more flexible than most of his kind. When confronted with necessity at least.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- The wand's workings were becoming clear to her, along with how useful it could be. Quite the find indeed. She wasn't sure whether it would be better to keep hold of it or sell it off at a high price. No doubt any denizen of the underdark would find significant use of it. When Derendil interrupts - or more generously, simply chimes in - with his two coppers she sighs, looking up at him only briefly. "Expecting a drow to be considerate of other's minds is a bit much, don't you think?" Deflecting humour, self-deprecating, and using it as a shield. So quick she was to fall back on the stereotypes of her origins. She wasn't happy about that, and tries not to let it show. "I'm a big enough girl to admit that I could've handled it better, though he didn't help." She plucks a strand of magic from the wand, gleaming in the darkness, before teasing it against her tongue, tasting the matrices of the enchantment. Sour, as expected. "With any luck it'll be the last slaver we come across and it won't come up again. We'll get our boat from the fish, head to one of the exits from the slaver's maps and be new-home free." It was entirely too optimistic, and she doesn't believe it will be that easy, but she'd read once that keeping up morale with positivity was important, even if it meant being farcically hopeful.

[RandomWombat]

Curling her lip a little at the fleeing duergar, Topsy returns her dagger to its scabbard. "This better not bite us in the ass..." she grumbles, joining Borthan and Ront sorting through the loot. Taking a vial of the offered poison, she examines it through the clear glass. "Labelled in dwarvish. Synthetic Venom No. 5, it says. No clear indication of what it's made of, but I'm guessing it's going to hurt whatever you get it in." Stowing the vial away, she offers only a small nod of acknowledgement.

Jimjar takes one as well, spinning the stoppered vial between his fingers. "Thanks, Bort," he says amicably, flashing pearly white teeth at the half-drow and hopping onto one of the wagons to lounge on one of the seats while they rest.


Shuushar helps Borthan bind his wounds, mouth stretched in a broad smile. "I amg glad you were ablebl do calm dings down, widout any bloobdshed." The fishman's left eye drifts out of focus to peer at Buppido, as the derro slumped against the wall starts to stir. His wild eyes flutter open, immediately grabbing a sharp stone and lunging to his feet - then stopping. Buppido peers around slowly. "Ibd's alright, we were vigdorious," the kuo-toa holds up an empty palm, and motions towards the captive demons.

"Naturally," Buppido's stature calms and his voice regains its composure, as he buttons his bloody shirt back up. "You have my gratitude for maintaining this vessel, once more," he says, softly, stepping over to peer at the demons from beyond the invisible barrier of their stench.


The trog woman inclines her long, flat, arrow-like head towards Nilvae. She speaks in rough Common back to the surfacer, "Many of usss, magic usserss. I am one. But we are not... married to magic artss. We are to improve the Under sssociety through knowledge, undersstanding."

After Borthan unlocks her bindings, she rubs her wrists and takes the offered piece of meat. Showing impressive restraint for a species known for its rampant gluttony, she holds it in both hands and folds them in front of her, resisting despite visibly salivating. "Thank you. And your companionsss. My name is Skriss." Listening to Borthan's tail with an unreadable reptilian expression, she peers at the two demons piled in a heap in the corner, now being guarded by both Buppido and Ront, who is examining a roll of toilet paper in his massive palm as if trying to figure out its function.

"A week ago by guessss, faerzresss reacted sstrangely everywhere. Demonss began to sspread through the Northdark," Skriss begins, sticking to Common for Nilvae's benefit, "Otherss and I, ssplit to ssearch for a reasson. Invessstigate familiar placess. I found former tribe sserving demonss." Raising one hand from in front of her, she motions a sharp talon at the hezrou and dretch. "They ansswer to Laogzed, demon lord. Great devouring lizard, my people worsship for long agess. Now, he isss here, in a ravine. The demonss demand ssacrificess to ssate his hunger."

Turvy pales, stammering. "A... a demon lord? Here? Nearby?"

"My friend, Blurg, hass alsso heard Yeenoghu 'ssave' village of Filthriddenss from minotaur invassion," Skriss continues solemnly. Nilvae feels a sharp piercing twinge behind her skull as she hears the name 'Yeenoghu'. "Ssummoning of not one, but two demon lordss, a true disssaster! We are trying to learn how it happened."

Spoiler: Arcana: Faerzress

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Spoiler: DC 1

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That's the stuff that grows out of stone flooring, right?

Spoiler: DC 10

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Faerzess is a common phenomena in the Underdark. Areas suffused with a humming, ambient magical force, difficult to harness or influence. These places interfere with conjuration and divination magic, and can cause other forms of magic to turn Wild. It makes travel by teleportation in the Underdark a dangerous proposition, as passing through faerzess will cause the spell to mishap.

Spoiler: DC 18

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Menzoberranzan was built near and around several potent pockets of faerzess, which are used strategically by the drow to prevent their enemies from spying on them or teleporting into their most secure vaults. It's likely that the ward on the motley crew's prison cell in Velkynvelve was created by harnessing faerzess somehow.

Spoiler: History: Filthriddens

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Borthan treats the DC as 5 lower.

Spoiler: DC 12

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A haven for outcasts, criminals and discontents to hole up away from prying eyes, located in a winding and difficult to traverse area of the Northdark called the Labyrinth. Trying to pursue a mark into Filthriddens is a bounty hunter's nightmare, as the villagers will shelter and hide their own from any form of law enforcement.

Spoiler: DC 18

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Filthriddens is known to have ongoing conflicts with the minotaurs that consider the Labyrinth a sacred place of their patron, the demon lord Baphomet. They are regularly raided and forced to rebuild.

Spoiler: Religion: Yeenoghu

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Spoiler: DC 8

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The demon lord of gnolls, lord of ruination. His followers are infamous for terrorizing civilization and trying to tear down or defile any monuments to order.

Spoiler: DC 12

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It is no secret that Yeenoghu and Baphomet, Lord of Minotaurs, share a deep and rooted rivalry. It is unknown what sparked this intense opposition, if anything other than their spiteful nature, but gnolls and minotaurs dropping everything to fight one another even to the detriment of their own goals is fairly normal.

Spoiler: DC 18

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Yeenoghu also possesses some influence over the undead, after for a time enslaving and stealing power from one of Orcus' favored servants. This has spread his domain to encompass Rot and Ruin. Undead created in Yeenoghu's name often carry blight and disease with them.

While they receive a briefing from the trog, Topsy walks over to where Derendil and Faedryl are talking. She takes a seat nearby, examining the wand that Faedryl is analyzing. "Is it anything useful?" she asks, not wasting time on platitudes.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "Some toilet paper, which can be used, or sold I expect. I don't know if kua-toans are much in need of it though." They probably just wash themselves, though that idea isn't much more pleasant - swimming in water filled with fishperson faeces was hardly her idea of a good time. She's left the trog interrogation to the others, and is focused on her task, so she doesn't pay much attention to whatever they're saying. She'd find out soon enough either way. "The wand allows the near instantaneous molding of stone, allowing you to shift significant quantities of it with a flick of your wrist, if I'm right. Sadly it's not unlimited in power, a few uses a day at most, otherwise I'd just tunnel upwards and we'd be out in no time whatsoever." She peers upwards, as far as the eyes will go. She doesn't know just how deep they are below the surface. Miles, she expects. A dozen? Two? It would be slow going with a theoretically unlimited wand, but it would be doable. As it was though, limited charges meant it would years of trying to form a new exit with just the tools they had on hand. No, sadly it would be better used as a tool for traveling to an existing place to leave, rather than making one of their own.

[RandomWombat]

"We could try to figure out how they make it," Topsy comments on the toilet paper, flicking her eyes to the roll Ront is messing with and splitting into a wily grin. She looks at Faedryl and pointedly rubs her finger and her thumb together. "Nobles pay top gold for that stuff. I'm sure others have started developing their own knockoffs, but nobody can manufacture it in as much quantity as the Grays. Plenty of empty corners in the market."

News of the wand likewise leaves her pleased. "That thing could open plenty of doors down here, literally and figuratively." Her gaze follows Faedryl's upwards. "Maybe not that door. Actually, we could use that to close our campsites, couldn't we? Do it right and we'd look like any other section of stone wall."

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 0 of 3 d10 HD. Borthan listens to Skriss' tale, eyes focused on the ground while he listens. When the reptilian mentions disaster, Borthan shakes his head. "Not a disaster. An attack. On our reality. I'm no expert on demons, but if two of their biggest names have been summoned into our world this close together, you're askin' the wrong question. Sure, finding out what happened may be the first step, but that's not the hard part or the most important part. You... and maybe we... like all of us who care about stayin' alive we... need to find out who is summoning the next one, and shut em down before the local population of all powerful killing machines someone has to kick the crap out of goes up by one."

Prince Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Sanity 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (0hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil scratches at his chin, following the gist of the conversation without knowing all of the highlights. When Bort interjects with the theory of stopping a third demon lord from being summoned, his jaw drops for a moment in surprise before snapping it shut and shaking his head enthusiastically. "You think this is only the beginning? Surely this couldn't be. Getting even one demon lord to work with another is a monumental enough threat to deal with, and you want to throw more worries on the pyre? Let us handle this one at a time."

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- "Quite so. It should allow greater safety when it comes to camping outside of settlements." Not that she was looking forward to continuing to do that. She could use some civilisation, instead of rocks and scavenging for mushrooms in the dirt. Not that she expected life on the surface to be easy by any stretch, but her magical talents would earn her a place somewhere. Long enough, at least, to plan their next moves.

[RandomWombat]

"I do not have the ansswerss. It could be a sssummoner, or a natural rift. But," Skriss narrows her eyes and gazes down the south tunnel. "Laogzed iss not an ambitiousss creature. It iss sslothful. Unlikely to wander into a rift. We ssshould quesstion the demonss how they got here."

The hezrou and dretch are now tied up with rope. The dretch is also cuffed, but the massive tree-trunk arms of the hezrou were too large for manacles, and the rope might not hold against its efforts to break free on their own. But their own hulking brutes can tip things in their favor.

Once everyone has had a chance to take a breather and gathered around, Ront steps forward and presses a foot down on the demon's chest, putting his weight on it and pinning its arms underneath. With a grunt and guttural grow, the hezrou twitches and bares its teeth, beginning to come around.

"You should help him keep it pinned," Topsy advises Derendil, she herself keeping a comfortable distance from the stench of the thing.

[Spore]

Nilvae | Eye-Gore Half-Elf Warlock | Lamp Blighter AC: 13 HP: 23/23| AC 13 HP: 3/12 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) | PP: 11 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: fearful | Beast Speech Concentration: - "Expecting a drow to be considerate of other's minds is a bit much, don't you think?" Nilvae smiles at Faedryl. We make a great team though. I think Ront enjoys his, uh, work, and you're glad someone else is punching your enemies, my darling princess. She looks at Borthan and then oddly enough Stool. I am too. We are back here, looking pretty, doing girl-boss things. The surface half-breed listens to the trog explain her things. Ohh, Borthan told me of Filthriddens. Some undercity, even low for Underdark standards, and I swear I am not trying to make puns here. The minotaur worshipping Baphomet want the labyrinth for themselves though. Some kind of spiritual thing. Nilvae crosses her arms in front of Borthan. You need to remember these things, Bort. Almost worse than my fiancé-in-waiting. This is like your hunting ground if you want to bountyhunt down here, man. Her smile softens. She turns to the trog, trying in her best Undercommon impression, with a heavy elven accent. You...uh...pray...or...book magic? She looks puzzled, barely figuring out her own words, trying to wrap her head around the common tongue underground. It was some weird mix of gnomish, dwarven and an ancient elven accent. Does it speak? Nilvae points towards the demons.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: -- Faedryl raises an eyebrow at being addressed as such by Nilvae and for a moment considers a scathing retort and rejection, but in deference to Derendil's advice lets it slide. This time, at least. Such familiarity was perhaps usual among others - among the surfacers, even, another thing she might have to become accustomed to - but for Faedryl such words were only to be shared with one other, and that one was gone. A silent prayer to Eilistraee crosses her mind, that they might reunite when all her work was done. Any further ruminations on those she lost are cut short with the demon awakening. Standing from her seat and slinging the wand to her belt, she takes up position nearby - but also pointedly away from the stench - and readies a spell, clutching the gleaming spellwork of flames half-finished as the glyph glows in the palm of her hand. Sarith racks another bolt into his crossbow. If it got out of control, they'd put it down before it could do any real damage, and hopefully the preparations for doing so would keep the demon subdued long enough to answer some questions. She didn't want to knock it out again and wait longer - the sooner they got the answers the better.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 0 of 3 d10 HD. Borthan, bandaged and refreshed, snorts at Nilvae and tries to ignore the fact that she has a point. He did know that information. But in the moment, he could not summon the knowledge in his mind. He moves to the hezrou's left arm and wraps his arms around it, pinning it down with his full bodyweight. He watches Derendil move to do the same on the right. Then he looks the demon in the eye and bares his teeth. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey, you ugly monster."

Prince Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 26/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Sanity 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (0hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil follows in Borthan's lead and pins the right hand arm, fastening his claws to shred at the demon in case of any risk of escape. "I don't speak Abyssal. Hopefully it speaks Common."

[RandomWombat]

The demon snaps its jaws and gnashes its teeth at Borthan when he speaks to it, but Ront moves his foot and presses down on the thing's broad throat, pinning it back against the stone. He does seem to be enjoying his job. Grinning wide with a mighty foe trapped underfoot. The demon for its part growls and shouts up at him in its guttural tongue.

"It um, it's asking if... if you intend to kill it or just play around," Turvy says, trailing away as he translates the demon's words for them.

"So you can talk to demons, eh? You sure you aren't secretly a cultist?" still lounging on the edge of one of the wagons, Jimjar leans his head out and teases his kinsgnome with a grin that says he's quite confident it isn't the case.

"Well, it's not-"

"Lay off him, grifter," snaps the other twin, rolling her shoulders and looking up at Faedryl. "Whatever you want to ask, Turvy will do the translating." She prods her brother in the side, making him flinch. "And try to show some confidence or the demon's just going to laugh you off."

Another of their companions speaks up, Buppido cutting in with his smooth silken voice. "Or I could do it."

"You know Abyssal? Now you being a demon cultist I'd believe."

"Demons are beneath me," he waves off her concerns with his hand as if swatting a fly. "Just tell me what you'd like to know."


"You are unfamiliar with the under-common," Skriss observes as Nilvae tries to piece together a few words. "It isss alright. I sspeak the ssurface-common acceptably." Reaching down to her belt, where she's retrieved her possessions from the duergar carts, she takes up a notebook. "I am a sspellcasster. I sstudy magic, but not the ussual magic. I sstudy how to do magic like the faithful." She struggles a little to find the right words, fidgeting her tongue between her sharp teeth. "Ssimple way to ssay it iss I am a wizard who healss."

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: Readied Create Bonfire She doesn't inquire, or bother herself, with why her companions might know the languages of demons. She had knowledge of an esoteric language herself, and would appreciate people not prying into the specifics as to why should it ever come up. Do unto others, and all that. "Assuming it can't understand me and isn't being difficult as demons tend to be, please," It was getting easier to say the word, but still uncomfortable, "ask why there's so many demons roaming the area - then details on leaders, plans, numbers. That sort of thing." She'd leave the exact wording to the translators. Her spell, still gleaming with fiery runes, continues to be held at the ready. A quiet, but showy, threat.

[Spore]

Nilvae | Eye-Gore Half-Elf Warlock | Lamp Blighter AC: 13 HP: 23/23| AC 13 HP: 9/12 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) | PP: 11 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: fearful | Beast Speech Concentration: - Nilvae approaches Faedryl's position. Faedryl, milady. You can't just wave your hand and try to make your friends do all the hard work of arguing. You need a bit of presence, and adress those under you with a bit of elegance, yet superiority. Odd, that rural 'nobility' like me has to teach you some manners. You want answers AND a good translation? Then provide the interpreter some glamorous words. Nilvae said in an honest and caring tone, unsure if the content of her words or her honeyed tone aggravated the wizard more. The warlock beckons her fey companion as she approaches the demon until she is about 10 feet away. Now, my dear abyssal friend. You can have this two ways. The first one is that you give us the location and name of your master. You tell us roughly how many of you there are, and if you have the ability to reinforce. If you choose not to cooperate, there are things worse than banishing you to the Abyss again. No, that would be too easy for you. I know you are also quite resistant to punishment as a result of eons of torment in the lower planes. But permanent curses, gouged out eyes, or sending other body parts to the Abyss before you? How's that feel? Your worth as a soldier will be diminished, your pride broken, and your bosses will not even be done with you. Eyegore? Do show this gentle creature what you do. The small black fey eagerly approaches, prods and gouges at the eye. Spoiler Show Intimidate (2d20)[5][15](20) +4 assisted by Eyegore plucking a single eye out.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 Conditions: -- Concentrating: Readied Create Bonfire Faedryl's nostrils flare in barely concealed irritation at Nilvae's 'correction', but with some notable self control she remains silent. Arguing in front of a bunch of duergar slavers was one thing, but they actually needed the demon's information and if it started poking at the group it risked splintering it, as Derendil had advised. Words would be had later, once they'd dispatched it.

[RandomWombat]

Stepping up alongside Nilvae, Buppido begins to speak down to the captive demon. Whether he is translating her words or delivering his own isn't quite clear. The hezrou glares up in defiance as tries to snap its jaws at Eyegore until Ront holds its mouth shut. No fear is shown in its expression as Eyegore tears out its eye, only pain and rage. If anything it takes this as a challenge.

As he and Nilvae finish speaking, Buppido motions for Ront to let go of its mouth. A tirade of spittle and profanity are loosed from its mouth, the vulgar content of the words evident even to those uneducated in Abyssal. Turvy visibly flinches at its words, but Buppido's gaze remains cold and focused, a slight smile forming on his face. "The demon very rudely boasts that they and their troglodyte servants will take Ghorlagh and feast upon its people. A favored priest of Laogzed leads them, and there are 'legions of dretch' and 'still other' hezrou who will gnash your bones to dust," Buppido stops to aside to Faedryl, "I do not think he knows how to count."

Turning back to the hezrou, he asks further questions. It hisses and spits a gob of stinking fluid at him, which he sidesteps coolly. Ront grabs it by the face again and presses its jaw shut. Stoking his mustache, Buppido hums. "No answer about how the demons got here."