Out of the Abyss IC

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 (10) Conditions: Selfish Concentrating: -- On the Path When they finally come to a choke point - one that they can use to block the paths of any drow pursuers, Faedryl puts the duergar's wand to use. With a few flicks she pulls thick rock into place to block their passage, doing what she can to make it look 'natural'. A keen eye would probably spot that it wasn't - and the passage leading up to a dead end on its own would be suspicious, but what had cost her ten seconds of effort would take a team of properly equipped miners a day to dig through, and that was a trade she considered well worth making. Damnable Lights She was blinking at first. Her skin tingled. Burned. Then the lights seemed to get brighter, hotter. Her arms come to wrap around her stomach. She could feel the magic twisting it into knots as her head thrummed with pain. No one did anything. Her fingers clawed at her armoured belly. A pointless gesture, it would do nothing. Intellectually she knew this, but she couldn't stop the motion, like a child clawing for its mother. No one did anything. She couldn't see now, her entire brain was aflame and her footing shifts, her pace slows. No one did anything. They watched. They'd all just watch. Made sense. Whatever 'familiarity' this group might have for one another, they were each out for themselves. So she should be too. The moment she had an exit to the surface she'd abandon the lot of them to whatever fates they wished. By the time they were finally through the worst of it, she was ready to curse every god under sun and sky for that pain. It had clearly been magical of some sort, but the blinding light and throbbing migraines gave her momentary pause about living on the surface. She might have to adopt a nocturnal lifestyle if that was how the sun fared for her kind. "The Silken Paths are an option," Faedryl voices, her voice strained from the pain still. "Though we'd likely need to hire a guide. Otherwise we should head for the main road, aim to use it for swift travel, even if it's more open."

Spoiler: OOC

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Use two charges of Stoneshaper to block the passage behind the group when we get to the 5' tall, 10' wide tunnel described. Will be at 2/3 charges for day two.

Rolls from Discord:
Sanity Save: Failed
Con save: Succeeded, so no vomiting or damage.
Panic Roll: 3 (Selfish - The character may not take actions that grant another creature a positive effect or restore hit points to another creature, if that resource could be spent to the character’s benefit instead.)
Madness Roll: 97 (No Madness)
History: 16

[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 shrugs the question off with a shrug of her own. Wasn't aware he wasn't dead yet. Maybe it is this environment speaking, but many beasts would eat the eyes first-hand. Most nutritious part, also the part that spoils the easiest. Besides, there are probably worse items in any wizard's component pouch. Nilvae was of course lying, she was not imagining humanoid parts in a spell pouch, and her stomach turned as well as the others. If you wish, I keep him on a tighter 'leash'. Nilvae griped the air, and a spectral chain glowing a faint green was visible between her left arm and the creature's neck. One yank and the fey knew instantly, who was boss. Unfair, unfair! You kill one deer, and the lord of the forest gets pissed. Not like there are no hunters in his forest either. Nilvae smiles evilly. You know well, those hunters came searching for me, and our master turned them into shrubbery. If I understood correctly, there are no guides in the area anymore. Now if only we had someone who could negotiate a passage with spiders... the warlock says innocently. To reiterate her point, her spider-donkey chitters with its fangs. If we can hunt for a bit of fresh bait, alive would be best, I am sure we can get past the spiders.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 1 of 3 d10 HD. On the Path As they were traveling, Borthan would move close to Nilvae, stomping his boots to let her know he was invisibly approaching. Keep the fey under control. He can do his business after we kill a foe. Ain't no need for what he did. It disturbs some of us, and gives some of us a grim reminder that we ain't disturbed by violence no more. Please." He would then give Nilvae some space to consider his words, moving to the front to scout again. Faedryl's Attack Borthan watches with interest as Faedryl struggles with something internally. When she seemed to recover, he spoke softly. Not my section of the underdark, otherwise I'd be a fine guide. If it twer my choice I'd say take the road. More open, but also more travelled. Easier to get ahead of our pursuers after they find that rock wall Faedryl was smart enough to leave behind us."

[RandomWombat]

None of the crew's companions see reason to voice dissent, for speed now will place them far removed from pursuers - and all the more likely their trail shall disappear altogether. Come the branch in question, Borthan guides them to the right, proceeding towards the main road between Sloobludop and drow territory.

Beyond a threshold, the passageway opens up, leading to the crossroads. There is, however, a new obstruction in their way. A checkpoint not on the map has been erected here, with folding portable wooden barricades assembled. They are painted black, and covered on the outside with vicious barbed spikes. Two posts hold lit shaded lanterns which make it impossible for someone like Borthan to draw near, while not stinging drow eyes with their brightness. At the center is a foldable wooden 'door' which does not look hard to bust open, but would leave the buster open to stabbing by spears and other sharp implements while doing so. Assuming there was anyone to man the barricade.

There is not. Beyond the barricade is an empty encampment, with three simple tents made out of giant spider silk and bearing Menzoberranzan's iconography. A temporary checkpoint, possibly set up for the crew themselves. And it is entirely empty save for bloodstains splattered across the stone and a single drow corpse. Bloody marks show two bodies having been dragged north towards drow territory.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 (10) Conditions: Selfish Concentrating: -- If her head throbbed less she might have clapped with joy at the sight of the unmanned checkpoint - an obstacle they did not have to overcome, and a checkpoint that was their's to pick clean of supplies. What had happened to the occupants? The drow that had perhaps been in wait for them? She finds she does not care in this moment. Such thoughts are too far ahead for her to consider beyond the moment. The effect of whatever had plagued her mind and insides earlier remains, and it pushes her into the moment rather than the future. "We should see what we can find." She mutters, almost stumbling on the 'we'. If they even bothered to help... She takes care of the lights first, calling up her mage hand to retrieve and cover them to block their light away. They were too visible otherwise, and at least this way they wouldn't have to worry about being spotted beyond Faedryl's own vision. She gestures for Sarith to investigate the tents, and leaves the body to the others. No sense in getting her hands dirty, after all.

[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: - Faedryl's approach was a command in and of itself. Nilvae had no military training, nor was she following orders directly, but her newly found adventuring paranoia herded her towards cooperating with the more experienced members of the crew. In lieu of a command of one of the others, she beckoned her familiar to her to tell it to scout ahead. No eye-gouging just yet. she adds, and if Eyegore understood, his disappointment didn't show. The lampblighter flew ahead. Meanwhile Nilvae kneeled down scratching a crude summoning circle into the dirt. Any knowledgable onlooker knew she was to call a familiar. Yet without the necessary incense and materials, the binding was but temporary. Sickly green flits of color swirled around her for a minute while the warlock was humming along an almost harmonic tune. Two creatures slowly coalesced their forms inside the circle, entirely made up from green particles. At the end of the spell they would assume the forms of a bat and an Tressym, a yellow-eyed striped cat with draconic wings. She would command them to follow Eyegore. Spoiler Show Summoning a Tressym from Storm King's Thunder: https://www.gmbinder.com/share/-LSGd7ACEznArBZIcdgC and a bat from the PHB. Notably, a Tressym can see invisibility constantly within 60 ft, as well as poisons. If said abilities are too powerful, I would like you to nerf its form. A bat has blindsight. Perception in order: Nilvae, Eyegore, Tressym, Bat. (4d20)[11][9][4][12](36) (+2, +3, +5, +1) Advantage rolls for Tressym (smell) and Bat (hearing) where applicable (2d20)[20][17](37)

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 1 of 3 d10 HD. Borthan would quickly slide up next to the corpse, invisible again when Faedryl hid the lights. He wanted to know what killed the drow in case it came back.

Spoiler: OOC

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Survival to read the scene (1d20+4)[10].

[RandomWombat]

With the lights snuffed, the crew proceeds under cover of darkness. Ront not so subtly tears the portable barricade's gate open by pressing through with his weight. And like any successful drow leader, Faedryl delegates, sending Sarith in first to do the dirty work. He steps into the nearest tent, the gnomes setting about investigating the other two.

The tent Sarith enters contains little more than five cramped bedrolls, scrunched together. A quarters for the rank and file. The bedrolls themselves are of good quality, soft and made from giant spider silk. They would make resting in the caverns a touch more comfortable, or sell for a decent amount.

Spoiler: Sarith Perception

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Spoiler: DC 12

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The bedrolls are not disturbed by someone getting up quickly or suddenly to respond to an attack, nor by someone seeking cover inside the tent during a fight. They are neatly folded and tucked.

Spoiler: DC 18

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The cloth back 'wall' of the tent does not ripple with the wind current from his movements.

Scrawling a summoning circle, Nilvae calls forth a pair of familiars, the fey spirits taking form. Her tressym prances around, sniffing at the air, while the bat screes and squeaks, gaining its bearing. Mr. Spide lingers beside her, eyeing the two morsels hungrily, but restrains from indulging in a snack just yet...

As they scout, the two familiars relay back a basic understanding of their findings to Nilvae.

Spoiler: Tressym

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The blood trail does not smell fresh. The blood has been dried for some time, and smells of rot.

Spoiler: Bat

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Two of the walls near those lingering outside (marked in red on the map) feel like they have small openings in them, barely large enough for a tarantula to crawl through. But to Nilvae's eyes, even with a bit of light to see by, the stone walls are completely solid.

Flying ahead alongside Borthan, Eyegore flits around the corpse, its eyes oh so tempting.

Spoiler: Borthan Survival

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This man has been dead for some time. The body is cold, his flesh already partially decomposed and fed upon by maggots. Cause of death appears to be a slit throat.

Topsy leans out of the southwest tent to inform Borthan, "This looks like the commander's tent." Past her, he can see a fancier cot set up inside, large enough for two. A second, smaller cot is also set up, and a small locked footlocker rests in the corner.

[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 nods as her fey scouts returning update her. So there's tiny holes in the wall, probably made for some defenders to shoot at someone. And the corpses were likely slain before the demons erupted down here. I assume this is someone else's doing, I wouldn't bet on drow, but at least your dearest sister should not be involved to ambush you, Faedryl. The half-elf concludes by sending out her spy into the westernmost hole while she beckons Stool.

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: - The tiny myconid kept silent, but not was called to the side of the pretty lady. He nods and expunges his communicative spores. Stool should check hole? Stool would see it? I will transform into small flying thing. The shroom shrinks and morphs into an insect, warping until it has the size and form of a roach. Instead of thinking about it as a metaphor for worth, the ever-practical Stool climbs into the eastern-most arrow slit.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 (10) Conditions: Selfish Concentrating: -- "All the luckier." Faedryl says absently as she continues to rummage around the site and seek out anything of interest. "I have six sisters." Her mother had thankfully stopped at seven daughters, alongside their four brothers. If she killed just one then there'd be only single digit Melad heirs remaining - for she wasn't truly one of them anymore. Coming up thin on items apparently she moves the next object of attention - the corpse. If it had anything to tell her she didn't much care beyond how fast they needed to move and in what direction. Fighting wasn't her - or anyone's - goal. Leaving was. She'd also take the time to lift anything of value from the body. It had been left here, but whatever had slaughtered the outpost hadn't ransacked it by its appearance - they should still have something of use.

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d20)[9] Medicine.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: Sarith proceeds forward on naturally quiet footsteps, heavy crossbow nevertheless loaded and at the ready should anything jump him. "They weren't resting when they were taken - or if they were they were taken so quickly that it disturbed not a single bedroll." Sarith confirms. "Not much could sneak up on a drow outpost in the Underdark. Less still could wipe it out so...cleanly." It was concerning, but if they moved on swiftly they had a better chance of not being caught. Such ambushers ususally preferred a static prey, one drunk on their own confidence in camp defenses. Ones alert and on the move would be more prone to panic fighting or panic running - harder to pin down and make it as clean as they had here. When he follows Topsy to the 'command' tent he notes the footlocker and a hand instinctively moves to his belt...where there were no lockpicking tools. He was adept at their use but he had none to speak of. They might just have to smash the thing open, and risk damaging whatever was inside.

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 2 of 3 d10 HD. Borthan nods to Faedryl as she approaches and begins searching the body. "I agree with Sarith. This is too precise. To clean. This one died of a slit throat. What kind of demon wouldn't savage the body or take a bite? This looks like a surgical strike, not an attack by ravenous monsters. We may want to move on fast. If I were good enough to wipe a drow check point off the face of the Dark with this much skill, the only reason I'd leave a single body behind is as bait. I'd be careful patting this rotter down if I were you, princess."

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 (8hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil did his best not to dwell on the horror that must have befallen this dark elven outpost. He took the time to ritual cast a magic detection spell while the others looted and searched.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 22/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 (10) Conditions: Selfish Concentrating: -- "Your concern is noted." Faedryl replies, with an ounce of sarcasm. Was he looking out for 'their' skins or just his own? She can take a guess. But she takes his point regardless, and instead of approaching the body herself uses her telekinetic Mage Hand to poke and pry at the body from a safe distance - by which she means any distance in which someone else is closer to it than she is. It's a little frustrating having to do fine tasks at range where it's difficult to see exactly what she's grabbing, but the safety it offers is worth the annoyance, if indeed Borthan was correct.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: Noticing that one of the gnomes has tools that might suffice as lockpicks (even if they weren't the ideal), he moves to them with the chest in hand, and holds out a hand. "I require your lockpicks to open the chest." His drow charm was on full display. No 'please', no request, no comradery. A simple statement of what he wants. He supposed it didn't really matter if they didn't hand them over. It would be their choice to sacrifice the contents, either to the locks or being smashed. And it seemed Faedryl was in no mood to 'correct' or adjust his attitude at the moment. All the better. She shouldn't be focused on petty trifles like being friends. A leader needed to be above...that...He squinted his eyes unconsciously. She was his leader. The explicit mental acknowledgement of it was still surprising, and for a moment zones him out of whatever the gnome replied with, but he snaps back to reality quickly enough. She'd made her goal clear: Escape to the surface. But outside of watching them all die did he have any goal? Any long term ambition? Or was he satisfied to follow Faedryl until she left the Underdark and then roll over and die, now absent even the glee of her failure? The surface was no place for a drow, certainly not one like him. But the Underdark was no place for him either anymore. Not in this realm or the next.

Spoiler

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Assuming he does get the thieves tools from Topsy, (1d20+6)[22] to unlock the chest.

[RandomWombat]

Topsy peers up at Sarith with a twisted lip, taking out a piece of wire she'd fashioned into a makeshift lockpick. "I could do it. But I might as well live the drow high life and delegate the work to a male," she says snidely as he takes the bit of wire. His work is quick and precise, and the lock is not terribly complicated. In a few moments it gives a satisfying 'click'. But before he can do more than pop open the trunk, things begin to happen outside...

Spoiler: Loot

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2 Unidentified Green Potions
A set of gold-lined silk lingerie which glimmers in the dark, marking it as clearly magical
A finely made zurkhwood flute
A coinpurse containing 2 platinum pieces, 20 gold pieces, and 12 silver pieces, all stamped with a spider that marks them as drow currency

When Faedryl backs away and jostles the corpse with Mage Hand, its hand grasps at the ground and its bloodshot eyes flash open, a moan coming from its stone-cold lips. The zombie begins to slowly stand up. A magical mouth, an eerily jarring out of place pair of fleshy grey lips, opens up upon the zombie's chain shirt. "Ahahahaha~!" a twinkling female laugh plays out in a pre-recorded magical message. "You've fallen for my intricately woven trap, dear sister! We've hidden ourselves in the walls from which to ambush you! Now witness as my undead-" the message fizzles and cuts out as the lips choke and then fade away. It seems they ran out of their allotted number of words.

Spoiler: Faedryl

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It is the voice of Alaulure, the third daughter of the Melad sisters. She is a Lolthite huntress, and an infamous one at that - for her gross and consistent incompetence and waste of resources. Alaulure has a loose pair of lips that blab her plans and schemes to anyone who will hear, and she wastes her money on frivolous things... like a talking shirt specifically to taunt Faedryl. It is frankly astonishing that the matron mother has not successfully had her killed yet, a fact often attributed to a babau bodyguard she managed to bind without getting gutted. Or perhaps Lolth just finds her a fine comedy channel.

Alaulure has a young (for an elf) daughter named Alaufaen, who she has taken as her apprentice.

From the northeast, Nilvae's winged cat hisses and arches its back - the gate swings open and two more shambling zombies carrying shortswords stumble their way into the campsite. Their clothes are stained with dried blood from broad wounds across their chests, the exposed flesh scraped and torn as if dragged across the stone floor.


Stool transfigures himself into a tiny roach, slipping through the hidden cracks. As soon as he touches them they become translucent, and he can see a foggy shape as he emerges on the other side - a drow warrior standing with his hand crossbow trained at Nilvae through a different arrow slot! He starts upon seeing the cockroach poking through and reaches for his blade, but Stool is too quick and the drow's pommel impacts the wall instead.

Her summoned bat meets a similar foe as it sticks its head through the minor illusion of a solid wall that conceals the arrow slots, unable to fit fully through. The bat's echolocation can feel more individuals deeper into the hidden alcove, and it avoids having its tiny head caved in by a sword pommel when the drow comes in swinging.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Drow Warrior A gets a surprise attack on Bat, but misses.
Drow Warrior B misses Stool with his surprise attack as well.
Drow Zombie A is still Prone, and has not completed the act of standing yet.

Borthan is up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Spoiler: OOC

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Spore and Amnestic can choose whether to use their lump or split Initiatives. I assume PPP would want the latter as usual?

Borthan - 22

Drow Elite - 21

Stool - 14

Alaulure - 14
Drow Warriors - 14

Derendil - 12

Drow Scouts - 12
Alaufaen - 11
Drow Zombies - 11

Nilvae/Stool/Familiars - 10.5
Nilvae/Familiars - 9
Topsy - 9

Quaggoth - 9
Babau - 9

Sarith - 8
Turvy - 8
Faedryl/Sarith - 7.5
Faedryl - 7
Jimjar - 6
Shuushar - 6
Ront[ - 4

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 29/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 2 of 3 d10 HD. Borthan steps forward before the zombie is even done speaking and begins hacking at it. "Called it." Then his nostrils flare, his pupils dilate, and he growls through clenched teeth. Spoiler: Dwarvish Show PREY!

Spoiler: OOC

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Bonus action to cast Hunter's Mark. Bonus attack from Dread Ambusher- (1d20+5)[9] to hit ((1d20+5)[17] if Bort gets advantage from prone) with an axe, and (1d8+3)[7] damage, plus (1d8)[7] ambusher damage, plus (1d6)[2] from hunter's mark. Second attack- (1d20+5)[22] to hit ((1d20+5)[12] if advantage) and (1d8+3)[9] damage, plus (1d6)[4] Hunter's Mark. EDIT- If Bort kills the zombie he will move his mark to the nearest threat and use his 35 foot remaining move speed to advance towards the new target.

[RandomWombat]

With both of his axes, Borthan surges forward before the bait undead can get up, delivering a scissored cut with perfect timing to send its head tumbling across the campsite. By the time it rolls into the corner he's already closing the distance with the other two, meeting them atop the bloodstains before they reach Nilvae's cat.

The curtain of the tent Sarith initially investigated is flung open. A drow agent in fine armor swings up one arm to fire his hand crossbow at Faedryl, a shortsword in his other hand. Despite the element of surprise his bolt flies wide, sailing through the fabric of the tent where Sarith now stands with the gnome twins. It clatters over the ground, poison dripping from its length onto the stone.

On Faedryl's other side, the familiar face of her sister appears. Clad in a breastplate that's emblazoned with the spider of Lolth (and, in lieu of being skimpy, rather inappropriately shaped), she carries a rapier in one hand dripping with caustic ooze and a hand crossbow in the other. "It's all over, sister! If you be good and surrender now I'll make sure you get a good last mea- hey!" she takes the time to gloat personally before firing, wasting her element of surprise long enough for Faedryl to duck out of the way of her telegraphed shot, sparking a shrill shout from Alaulure.


Weapon clattering against the stone again as he swings at the transformed cockroach, the drow in the eastern bunker drops his crossbow and flicks out a dagger, this time stabbing it through Stool's tiny body. The little mushroom growing back to full size knocks his elven opponent back, forcing him to make room.

The other drow is less occupied, turning his attention away from the peeking bat and leveling his crossbow at Nilvae. With a snap of its mechanical bowstring, she feels a numb piercing sensation and dizziness before the world fades to dark.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Borthan cuts up Drow Zombie A for 16 and then 13 damage, slaying it.

Drow Elite misses Faedryl despite Hidden Adv.
Alaulure reveals herself, wasting Hidden, and misses Faedryl with her own shot.
Drow Warrior A shoots Nilvae for 7 damage, and she fails her save hard against the Drow Poison, passing out. Her Flock fades with Concentration dropping.
Drow Warrior B misses Stoolroach with a sword attack, then hits with a dagger for 4, spawning Stool back to normal.

Derendil is up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Borthan - 22

Drow Elite - 21
Alaulure - 14
Drow Warriors - 14

Derendil - 12

Drow Scouts - 12
Alaufaen - 11
Drow Zombies - 11

Nilvae/Stool/Familiars - 10.5
Topsy - 9

Quaggoth - 9
Babau - 9

Turvy - 8
Faedryl/Sarith - 7.5
Jimjar - 6
Mr. Spide - 6
Shuushar - 6
Ront[ - 4

[purepolarpanzer]

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 (8hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil moved quickly shouldering his way between the drow who fired from hiding and lifting his shield. "Your fight is with me, you foul night creature." He looks back over his shoulder at Faedryl and says "No offense, of course." Than he raked at the elite with his claws with an awkward blow.

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d20+5)[17] to hit, (1d6+3)[9] damage. Ready a reaction to cast shield if Derendil is going to be hit.

[RandomWombat]

Coming up from the drow's blindspot, it seems like Derendil is about to catch him with his guard down without his shield ready. But the elite warrior doesn't miss a beat. Confidently shifting his stance, he slaps the quaggoth's claw aside with the flat of his blade. "A slave is not worth my time," he derides Derendil in an exquisitely mocking flourish of elvish.


From the direction of the wall to Borthan's left, an arrow flies out of the solid stone as if from nowhere, slashing past an opening in his armor. The two zombies march forward, neither knowing nor caring about their overwatch, and the wound shakes Borthan's guard enough that they can land a few strikes that bruise, but do not break his armor.


A second arrow sails through the tent fabric and past the commander's bed, sticking into the silk on the opposite side. Around the back of the tent, a small dark figure slips behind Shuushar at the rear of the group. Shuushar gurgles out a surprised noise as he's struck from behind by a blunt crack in the back of his head. As he spins around to face his attacker, a sheet of ice can be seen forming on the impact point.

"Brb-b, you're jubst a child," he can be heard exclaiming before grunting as a second blow from the drow girl's paired tonfas strikes him in the gut and nearly sends him to the ground.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Derendil takes a swing at the Drow Elite, deflected by the drow's Parry reaction ability.

Drow Scout A shoots Borthan from a hidden position for 11 damage sneak attack. I've marked the wall on the map with a blue square.
Drow Scout B fires blindly through the command tent fabric, but guesses the location incorrectly.
Alaufaen sneak attacks Shuushar for 14 damage, then another 5 with her offhand, leaving him badly hurt.
Zombies B and C hit Borthan for 3 and 4 damage, respectively.

Nilvae and Stool are up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Borthan - 22

Drow Elite - 21
Alaulure - 14
Drow Warriors - 14

Derendil - 12

Drow Scouts - 12
Alaufaen - 11
Drow Zombies - 11

Nilvae/Stool/Familiars - 10.5
Topsy - 9

Quaggoth - 9
Babau - 9

Turvy - 8
Faedryl/Sarith - 7.5
Jimjar - 6
Mr. Spide - 6
Shuushar - 6
Ront[ - 4

[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: - Eyegore does the only thing he can. Covering his mistress' behind. He did not like Nilvae very much but he knew her death would mean returning to Puck, so he summons an orb of darkness again.

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: Shillelagh Up in the alcoves, Stool's tiny drawn club engorges. He draws his pot lid and swings. Spoiler Show (1d20+5)[12] (1d8+3)[11]

[RandomWombat]

As Nilvae lay under the effects of the drow poison, her sluggish body unable to move, a veil of unnatural darkness spreads and envelopes she and her arachnid companion, shielding them from the bolts of the hidden drow.

Inside the walls, Stool's club engorges and strikes. But the drow's chain armor dampens the impact, allowing him to roll with the blow and avoid real damage.


Joining Faedryl's sister is a menacing, wiry demon, its leathery black hide covered in what look like sores oozing fresh blood, its clawed hands permanently stained red. A single black spike rises from the back of its head, curving upwards like a scorpion's sting. The babau bodyguard is wearing an armored vambrace and pauldron upon its left arm, to which its black-tipped spear is attached with a chain.

Whipping the weapon around, it clubs Faedryl upside the head with the haft, moving too swiftly for her to respond with a Shield of her own. Spectral chains erupt from the zurkhwood haft and snap towards Faedryl like a trio of snakes. This time she reacts quickly enough to evade them, the phantom chains fading as they contact only the ground.

Adjusting its stance, the demon flicks its gaze at Derendil's back and its eyes flash red.

Spoiler: Arcana or Religion: Babau

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Faedryl knows up to DC 12 automatically, for her past knowledge of her sister's bodyguard.

Spoiler: DC 5

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The name escapes you, but these are supposed to be poisonous? Is it in their head-stinger?

Spoiler: DC 8

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This demon is called a babau. They are said to be molded from the souls of murderers and assassins. A layer of corrosive slime that looks like blood coats their bodies, damaging metal and wood weapons that strike them and splashing or spurting when they are hurt, making it dangerous to stand too close.

Spoiler: DC 12

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The gaze of a babau holds a similar hex to the Ray of Enfeeblement spell. They do not need to meet a creature's eye to mark them with this curse of weakness, but protection against curses will ward against it.

Babau wield their own natural arcane magic as well. They can conjure darkness, enchant their eyes to see through invisibility, and dispel magic. They are naturally resistant to acid, cold and fire, and share most demons' resistance to mundane weapons. Poison and electricity will be of no avail against them.

Spoiler: DC 18

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Legends tell that the first babau were born from the blood of Graz'zt, a former devil turned demon lord, before the Abyss and the demons adopted the template for themselves. They share many traits of devils, such as a more cautious and intelligent nature than their other demons.

A lesser known trait they inherited from the devils is Devil's Sight, able to see through even magical darkness.

Charging out of the false wall within the soldiers' tent, a quaggoth slave barrels down on Derendil and lunges at him with both claws in a raking strike. The two vicious claws are suddenly repelled to either side as they approach Derendil, scattered by an invisible field of force. A shimmering glow spreads over the price's malformed body, his spell powering a sympathetic barrier.

Then, his fur stands on end, and he feels the sensation of something's eyes on him from behind. His limbs feel weak, his legs shaking.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Nilvae slumbers.
Eyegore casts Darkness.
Stool takes a swing, missing Drow Warrior.

Quaggoth attacks Derendil with two claws, blocked by a Shield spell. Derendil's arcane ward manifests.
Babau strikes Faedryl with its spear for 6 damage. She evades the spear's magical snare with a successful Dex save.
Babau uses its Enfeebling Gaze on Derendil. He fails his Con save and deals half damage with Strength-based weapon attacks for 1 minute. He may make another save at the end of each of his turns.

Faedryl, Sarith and Borthan are up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Borthan - 22

Drow Elite - 21
Alaulure - 14
Drow Warriors - 14

Derendil - 12

Drow Scouts - 12
Alaufaen - 11
Drow Zombies - 11

Nilvae/Stool/Familiars - 10.5
Topsy - 9

Quaggoth - 9
Babau - 9

Turvy - 8
Faedryl/Sarith - 7.5
Jimjar - 6
Mr. Spide - 6
Shuushar - 6
Ront - 4

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 16/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 (10) Conditions: Selfish Concentrating: -- A quiet groan passes Faedryl's lips as she scrapes past the demon's spear, taking a lump for her troubles. Not all scions of Melad were born equal, and for every fast-firing synapse and keen thought that blitzed through Faedryl's mind, she seems to have stolen one from Alaulure. The girl - her elder sister - was, frankly, stupid. Faedryl could try to dress it up, and talk up her good parts, but it was a testament to the Matron's patience that the girl hadn't been sent off to die in a hole somewhere already. Then again, that might be exactly what this was. Her mother throwing her 'failures' at each other in the hopes that both die. If Faedryl were not Faedryl, perhaps Alaulure could claim victory and prestige with the family. But Faedryl was Faedryl and so her sister would die. Quickly if she were lucky, painfully if she were not - and Alaulure's luck had tended to be incredibly inconsistent. "Run away, Lulu. Run away and take your child with you. If you're lucky Mother will assume you died and you can both live long lives out of her reach." Her eyes darken, the whites filling with inky darkness once more as the magic from beyond the far reach encircles shadowy sinews around her sister. "Or die." A click of Faedryl's fingers, nothing more, and three magic circles appear surrounding her sister, each one traced with elven runes and sealed with Faedryl's own name. The blast beams of pure white-purple energy at her sister, magic in its rawest form, and in its wake the black magic follows to enhance the pain felt.

Spoiler: Actions

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Bonus Action: Hexblade Curse on Alaulure.
Action: Magic Missile on Alaulure. Damage: (1d4)[3]+3 * 3 = 18 total force damage
Move: None.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: From inside the tent Sarith hears plenty, but most of it doesn't matter to him. Faedryl's family spat wasn't as important, though he finds the idea that she would let them leave...distasteful. Was it sentiment getting the better of her? He'd make the decision for her then, do what she couldn't, and cut off the head of the snake first. He lets down his heavy crossbow for a moment, tugging forth the smaller alternative. In these close quarters, its limited range would be unimportant. After taking a moment to conceal his presence he thrusts aside the tent flap and looses a bolt at the Melad - the attacker, not Faedryl - before letting it drop and shifting back into the tent. If the poison dropped her, then the execution would be swift and final.

Spoiler: Actions

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Bonus Action: Hide, using the tent as cover from Alaulure. (1d20+6)[15]
Action: Fire a drow poison bolt from his hand crossbow. (1d20+8)[21] Advantage on successful hide: (1d20+8)[10] Damage: (1d6+4)[5] 9 from discord, rerolled with piercer + (1d6)[5] Sneak Attack (if hidden)
Save vs. Poison: (1d20)[17]+ConMod.
Move: Shift position inside the tent to better hide from Alaulure

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 11/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 3 of 3 d10 HD. Borthan grits his teeth through the bite of the bolt and the clubbing blows from the zombies, but he can't maintain his simple magic against their onslaught. Feeling the killer's instinct fade away, Borthan replaces it with rage as he moves to interpose the zombies between himself and the source of the crossbow bolt, axes coming across with lethal slashes.

Spoiler: OOC

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Working on clearing out zombies. (1d20+5)[23] to hit, then (1d8+3)[10] damage, then (1d20+5)[20] to hit and (1d8+3)[6] damage. (1d8)[4] damage if a crit happens.

[RandomWombat]

The bolts of raw magic begin to streak at Alaulure, and are met with shrieking laughter as she raises her hand, sweeping it and creating several discs of force that interpose themselves. Each missile strikes one of the discs, dissipating harmlessly as the energy is transferred into a glimmering field around her - similar to Derendil's. "Why would I run away, Fae? Can't you see I'm winning?" Her gloating is cut off as Sarith sneaks a small crossbow bolt past her barriers. The bolt pierces her magical field and draws a scratch along her thigh, causing her to hiss. Another hiss of pain can be heard in synchronicity from the shroud of darkness, near Shuushar.

Before he can receive retribution, Sarith vanishes back into the furthest corner of the tent. "Nnngh! How's this for an offer: Out of sisterly love, surrender now and your new boyfriend can go free! Since you seem to care so much for your males," Alaulure shouts back at Faedryl.

"Normal weapons aren't going to work well against that demon. Here!" Turvy reaches out and touches the pommel of the dagger his sister is in the midst of drawing. An audible hum fills the air, and the metal blade seems to vibrate. With his other hand he hurls a meager cantrip at its back, "Frigus!"

The cold against its back barely bothers the babau. But it brings its attention towards the tent, in time to swat Topsy's strike out of the way. She pettily tries to stomp on its foot, but the demon slides its taloned leg aside with a toothy sneer and mocking chuckle.

"Rraaagh!" coming in from the side, Ront takes a swinging haymaker with his demon skull gauntlet. The babau deftly leans out of the way, and Ront corrects from the swing by slamming his spiked shield into the demon. The spikes sizzle from a fresh coating of blood-like acid.


At the opposite side of camp, standing alone against his foes, Borthan delivers a pair of vicious cuts to one of the zombies. One swings low and only leaves a gash across its chest that does not bother it at all. The second axe, however, sends its whole head swinging to the side and lops off its lower jaw. With a gurgling sound, it continues its relentless advance.

After stepping out of the tent he'd been investigating and assessing the situation, Jimjar sees Borthan isolated and in trouble. A playing card embeds itself in the zombie's missing jaw, then flashes red and suddenly explodes, taking its head clean off. The headless corpse flops to the ground. The gnome smirks and flashes a salute, "Got your back, Bort!"


Under the darkness, Nilvae feels something nudging her numb body. Then a light braying next to her ear draws her back into the realm of consciousness, her worried donkey's breath on her face. From just inside the drow checkpoint she can hear Shuushar's voice stammering, "You dond haff to do dis. Jusd lower the weabons and lets talk." A pair of impacts can be heard, both merely striking against his chain shirt with a clinking sound.


Tossing his hand crossbow aside, the drow officer facing Derendil pulls out an offhand dagger. He opens with a thrust using his shortsword to distract the Shield, then swings in close with his dagger. The dagger would have caught the quaggoth prince's throat - had his arcane war not rebounded the blade like a rubber cushion.

From between his two foes, a small bolt sails out and strikes Derendil in the leg.


Inside the walls, Stool catches the bladed end of his opponent's weapon underneath his bucket. The strike would perhaps be more deadly if not for his fungal biology.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Faedryl curses Alaulure with Hexblade Curse.
Faedryl casts Magic Missile! Alaulure counters with a Shield spell!
Sarith hits Alaulure even past the extra Shield AC, dealing 14 damage. She resists the Poison. Of the 6 damage that gets past her ward, 3 is transferred to Alaufaen.
Borthan slashes Drow Zombie B for 10 and 6 damage.

Turvy casts Arcane Weapon (Thunder) on Topsy's dagger.
Turvy casts Ray of Frost, dealing 2 cold damage and slowing the Babau.
Topsy whose turn I definitely didn't forget acts now, missing with her first attack, and with an offhand unarmed strike.
Jimjar overkills Drow Zombie B with a 16 damage Cartomancy sneak attack, which turns out to be important because its Undead Fortitude almost had it survive.
Under Darkness, Mr. Spide transforms into Dr. Donk. He uses an action to wake Nilvae up.
Shuushar casts Cure Wounds on himself, regaining 9 hit points.
Ront misses his main swing, but hits with an improvised offhand for 2 damage on the Babau.

Drow Elite attacks Derendil twice for one miss, and an offhand crit for 6 damage.
Alaufaen misses Shuushar twice.
Drow Warrior A shoots at Dr. Donk in the dark, but misses due to Disadvantage.
Drow Warrior B stabs Stool, dealing 7 damage.
Drow Warrior C shoots Derendil for 6 damage. He is immune to poison.

Derendil's turn is up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Borthan - 22

Drow Elite - 21
Alaulure - 14
Drow Warriors - 14

Derendil - 12

Drow Scouts - 12
Alaufaen - 11
Drow Zombies - 11

Nilvae/Stool/Familiars - 10.5

Quaggoth - 9
Babau - 9

Turvy - 8
Topsy - Delayed
Faedryl/Sarith - 7.5
Jimjar - 6
Mr. Spide - 6
Shuushar - 6
Ront - 4

[purepolarpanzer]

Prince Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 22/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Sanity 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (0hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Rage (10 rounds) Derendil sees light bend and distort as his ward blossoms to absorb the would-be lethal blow at his throat. He sees a similar distortion blossom around his leg and then wink out as the magic was overwhelmed by the blow. But that was ok. His magic had done it's job and saved his life. Now it was the beast's turn to flip the tables on their foes. Shouting over his shoulder in Elvish, Derendil commands Sarith- "Sarith! Save Shuushar! If any of us go down he can save us, but if he goes down our healing is cut off! Faedryl has Ront, SAVE SHUUSHARRRRRRR!" Borthan's voice is cut off by a strangled growl of pain that exploded into a howl of rage. He launched himself at the quaggoth in front of him, slashing madly, but keeping his shield arm up to ward any blows from the drow elite.

Spoiler: OOC

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Attack- (1d20+5)[7] to hit and (1d6+5)[8] damage with a +2 from rage. Derendil picked up a spiked shield, and I don't remember the stats from that, but he will off hand attack the drow elite to try to provoke his reaction. Tit for tat, you evil bastard.

[RandomWombat]

The other quaggoth lurches back, craning its neck out of the way of Derendil's claw swipe. With his other arm he swings his shield, clipping the drow officer in the cheek with the tip of one of the spikes and leaving a thin trail of blood. The drow glowers at him and vainly flicks his hair back with a motion of the neck.


Borthan is recovering from his dual axe swings when another arrow flashes out from the wall at his most unprepared. It sticks him, pain shooting through him as he struggles to remain standing. That moment of weakness is enough for the zombie in front of him to grab him by the shoulders and shove him into the ground, where he hits his head and the world blacks out.


Next to Alaulure, a drow scout emerges from behind the tent and raises his bow, taking a shot at Topsy that catches her along the side, cutting through her armor. "Dammit! We're getting hit from all sides, we need to bail!" the pragmatic gnomess shouts.

"I, I'm being overwhelmbed," Shuushar wheezes out as he gets struck in the stomach, just managing to duck out of the way of another strike to the side of the head from his diminutive yet agile opponent.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Derendil Rages. He misses Quaggoth with his first swing, then hits Drow Elite with an improvised critical for 2 damage after his curse of enfeeblement and Rage bonus.
Derendil's banked save roll cures him of the curse of enfeeblement.

Drow Scout A shoots Borthan for 9 damage.
Drow Scout B shoots Topsy for 10 damage.
Alaufaen strikes Shuushar for 8 damage, then misses with her offhand.
Drow Zombie strikes Borthan for 3 damage, knocking him out.

Nilvae, Stool and Eyegore are up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Borthan - 22

Drow Elite - 21
Alaulure - 14
Drow Warriors - 14

Derendil - 12

Drow Scouts - 12
Alaufaen - 11
Drow Zombies - 11

Nilvae/Stool/Familiars - 10.5

Quaggoth - 9
Babau - 9

Turvy - 8
Topsy - Delayed
Faedryl/Sarith - 7.5
Jimjar - 6
Mr. Spide - 6
Shuushar - 6
Ront - 4

[Spore]

Nilvae | Eye-Gore Half-Elf Warlock | Lamp Blighter AC: 13 HP: 16/23| AC 13 HP: 12/12 PP: 12 PIv: 11 PIs: 12 San: 7 (-1) | PP: 11 PIv: 10 PIs: 13 Conditions: fearful | Beast Speech Concentration: Bless (Derendil, Ront, Stool) Nilvae dreams of nothing. She just lies there in a dark field, surrounded by a cacophonic mixture of woodland sounds and the echo of the Underdark. Far away, she can hear skittering of spider legs, and then a donkey's cry. She rises, hearing her trusty donkey, diving headfirst into a warm lake. As she opens her eyes, she realizes the liquid is purely donkey slobber. She quickly rises as her adrenaline surges. She still was caught in the Underdark, and this was yet another drow assault. Retreating into the dark orb of Eyegore, she pleads her master's powers to bless the warriors protecting her as she enchants some stones. Spoiler Show Rise, half move north. Cast Bless on Stool, Ront, Derendil. Cast Magic Stone.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor + pot lid) HP: 21/28 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: Symbiotic Entity (12 tHP), Bless (from Nilvae), Halo of Spores (remember!) Concentration: Shillelagh Seemingly, Stool does not react to the injury. The cut in his exterior quickly turns blue, but no liquid rushes out. As as response however, the whole room is filled with dark-grey spores all of a sudden. The shroom triples in size magically, as the spores envelop the drow assailant. Additionally, the myconid continues its physical beating. Spoiler Show bonus: Activate Symbiotic Entity Action: Shillelagh: (1d20+5)[12] for (1d8+3)[4] blunt plus (1d6)[5] necrotic (+1 from Bless) Reaction: Halo of Spores (2d4)[6] necrotic damage unless Con save DC 13

[RandomWombat]

Stealing away under darkness, Nilvae reaches out through her connection to the fey power. Derendil, Ront and even Stool hidden away in his little nook are touched by a feeling of beneficent coincidence, as if luck were tipped slightly in their favor. The warlock's eyes pierce the darkness as she climbs back to her feet, and she can see Shuushar in the process of being beaten up by a little girl.

Derendil's opposite yowls in challenge at the raging prince, taking one claw swipe that swings wide by miles, then lunging in with a second that finds a crack in Derendil's defenses to jab at his side.

The babau reaches out with its free hand to grab at Faedryl, but the drow fugitive slips out of its acid-drenched claws before she can be pulled in.


The tipping of the scales proves not to be quite enough to topple Stool's opponent, however. Against the swelling myconid, the drow warrior uses his bracers to deflect the incoming shillelagh, holding his breath to avoid breathing in any of the harmful spores - for now.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Nilvae stands, and casts Bless on Stool, Derendil and Ront.
Nilvae uses Magic Stone, gaining some stone ammunition.
Stool activates Symbiotic Entity. He takes a swing at Drow Warrior B, but misses even with Bless.
Retroactively rolled a Halo of Spores save since we forgot last round. The warrior passed, but will have to save again on his next turn against the 6 damage one.

Quaggoth misses with one claw attack, but hits Derendil with the other for 4 damage unless he'd like to Shield up again.
Babau attempts to Grapple Faedryl, but she escapes.

Faedryl, Sarith and Borthan('s death save) are up!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Borthan - 22

Drow Elite - 21
Alaulure - 14
Drow Warriors - 14

Derendil - 12

Drow Scouts - 12
Alaufaen - 11
Drow Zombies - 11

Nilvae/Stool/Familiars - 10.5

Quaggoth - 9
Babau - 9

Turvy - 8
Topsy - Delayed
Faedryl/Sarith - 7.5
Jimjar - 6
Mr. Spide - 6
Shuushar - 6
Ront - 4

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 16 HP: 0/29 PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 3 of 3 d10 HD. Death Saves- 1 pass Borthan bleeds.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 16/22 PP: 12 PIv: 14 PIs: 12 Sanity: 11 (10) Conditions: Selfish Concentrating: -- "You can't really think..." This was how every conversation with Lulu went. She had some stupid idea and latched onto it and would not relent: "Faedryl likes men, and therefore her partner must have been a man." Faedryl wants to bury her head in her hands. None of it was right. But try convincing an idiot and... "Did you think Qiya was a man!? Are you that blind!?" It wasn't as if they'd been strangers. They'd met on a few occasions and bookish Faedryl had only ever had Qiya. Ridiculous. She sees another drow moving to back Alaulure and lashes out with her mind, trying to force them back into the wall as she once again conjures a stream of magic missiles, holding them in the air for a moment. The magic gleams in the dark, the magic circles pinpricks that fight back against the Underdark just as much as she wishes to. Her own guiding lights. "I won't stop. Not for you. Not for anyone."

Spoiler: Actions

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Bonus Action: TK Shove the drow beside Alaulure (1d20)[16] +StrMod vs DC14 or be shoved 5' back into the wall, for (1d4)[1] damage.
Action: Magic Missile on Alaulure. Damage: (1d4)[4]+3 * 3 = 21 total force damage
Move: None.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Rogue AC: 16 HP: 23/23 PP: 14 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Sanity: 8 Conditions: -- Concentrating: He hadn't seen it but he'd heard the grunt of pain. He'd hit, he was sure of that much. Yet she stood. Perhaps the poison had dried out or was improperly extracted in the first place. Regardless, he could only try again. Again he takes a moment to centre himself and hide, before leaping out to loose another hand crossbow shot at the leader, and vanish back into the tent before any repurcussions could come his way.

Spoiler: Actions

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Bonus Action: Hide, using the tent as cover from Alaulure. (1d20+6)[17]
Action: Fire a drow poison bolt from his hand crossbow. (1d20+8)[13] Advantage on successful hide: (1d20+8)[20] Damage: (1d6+4)[8] + (1d6)[4] Sneak Attack
Save vs. Poison: (1d20)[17]+ConMod.
Move: Out to fire and then back in again.

[RandomWombat]

The Sisters' Battle

For a key moment, Alaulure's face twists into one of confusion. She places a hand on her hip and drops her guard, waving her rapier around conversationally and sending a few dripping drops of acid down against the stone, staining it with a sizzling pop. "Qiya? What are you talking about? Qiya was a woman! You were both part of that men-loving hippy cult!" whether her sister's own foolish misinterpretation or a series of lies and half-truths spewed by their mother (more likely a combination of the two), Alaulure's confusion leaves her open long enough for a trio of energy bolts to be launched at her from all directions.

In a panic she tries to raise her shields again, but the blasts pepper her from all sides and leave her with a series of painful, glowing-white injuries. Her barrier comes up only in time to deflect the bolt that Sarith had thrown her way. A glimmer of her arcane wards flickers back to life, and she clutches her side with her free hand. But the wounds do not seem as sever as they ought, and the cries of pain come from more than one direction...

The babau turns its head and flicks its dark eyes back towards its charge. Through gritted teeth the demon impels in Elvish, "Lure. Please stop standing in the open and making my job harder."

"No, please do," slipping past the Babau as it attempts to trip her up with the haft of its spear ("You little gremlin!"), Topsy lunges towards Alaulure. "Turvy! Pincer!" Another bolt of frost shoots out from the tent as Turvy runs out alongside his sister, but Alaulure blocks it with her shield of force. Daggers in hand, the two gnomes flank her. But she splits the shield in two, defending both sides.

"Foolish cretins! As if common gnomes could lay a finger on drow nobility!"

While the Babau is distracted, Ront rears back and takes a swing, connecting with the side of its head using the demon skull gauntlet. The demonic bone seems far more effective than his shield did, a cracking heard from the impact. The Babau spits out a chip from one of its sharp teeth and ducks. Acid splattered upon the skull gauntlet seems ineffective at burning the Slime Demon's bone away. A few flecks burn Ront's arm, but the orc is not dissuaded. He brings around his shield for a second blow, striking the demon for a meager blow. This time it spits some blood from its mouth back in his face, causing him to cry out in pain. Ront drops the shield, now a melting metal lump of slag on the ground.

"Take the girl and go before you get dead!" the Babau shouts back at Alaulure, "I will finish this!"

"I'm the one in charge!" Alaulure shouts back. But she pulls away from the twins, running back into the hole she crawled out of. "Alaufaen! Fall back and use your seed!"

Spoiler: Faedryl

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Seed...

Matron Melad keeps many useful creatures and artifacts under her thumb. One of those is the dryad Flaxae, who she keeps fed on humanoid flesh and addictive demon blood. A creature twisted into an image as evil and capricious as the Matron herself. The dryad is bound to a cursed tree, kept beneath Melad Manor where it wallows in a faerzress-filled chamber.

Seeds that grow from the dryad's cursed tree can be crushed between the teeth, teleporting the user back to the tree - the tree's long time soaking in the faerzress allows it to bypass the normal risks, although only being able to transport one way. Faedryl's mother uses these seeds only for her own escape plans, and for a few select elite agents - certainly not the likes of Alaulure. How her idiot sister got access to the seeds is anybody's guess.

Taking her place, a fresh drow warrior rushes out and jabs at Turvy with his blade, but fails to connect.


Derendil's Stand

With only a glance at the scene behind Derendil, the elite warrior continues to deliver cutting strikes. Though his dagger whistles wide, defending against both weapons proves difficult and earns Derendil another nick. Another bolt flies out of the hidden passage, stinging his ear.


Saving Private Borthan

A flash of light slices through the neck of the second zombie standing over Borthan. With a gurgling groan it falls over, Jimjar leaping to land next to the fallen ranger. He stands above Borthan, a gleaming energy flowing across his skin as he raises his crossbow. A shot is fired into the fake wall where the archer is hidden, but the clatter of stone announces that his bolt failed to connect. "Hang in there, buddy. I bet you can make it."


Those Left Behind

The braying donkey follows Nilvae nervously into the darkness, staying close and twitching at every sound. In the darkness, the warlock can see glowing, bleeding wounds appear across the drow girl's body as she menaces Shuushar, nearly bringing her to her knees.

"Sombthing is harming the girl!" despite her repeated, deadly attacks, Shuushar calls out in fear for the young drow's safety. Focusing his energy inward, he holds up his spear defensively. "Girl, do you speak Undercombon?"

"Shut up you ugly fish," the girls snarls back.


Secret Stool

Stool's opponent continues to fight intently above his paygrade, landing a brutal slice across the mushroom's body that fails to pierce down to his true body at its core. His dagger scores only a glancing nick.

Spoiler: Combat Log

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Borthan passes a Death Save.
Faedryl casts Magic Missile. Alaulure is hit for 11 damage while distracted. 10 is transferred to Alaufaen.
Sarith barely misses Alaulure with his sneak attack, after she gets her Shield up.
Turvy casts Ray of Frost on Alaulure, but misses.
Topsy Disengages as a Cunning Action and attacks Alaulure, but misses.
Jimjar crits with his magic card for 39 damage to Drow Zombie C, gaining himself 8 temp hp in the process. He takes an offhand shot at Drow Scout A, but misses.
Dr. Donk follows Nilvae and Dodges.
Shuushar heals himself for 6 with Healing Word, and Dodges.
Ront hits Babau with demon skull gauntlet for 10 damage, then with his shield for 2 damage. His shield is destroyed, and he takes 11 acid counter-damage total. The skull from a Slime Demon is, however, immune to Babau slime deterioration. Go figure.

Drow Elite strikes Derendil for 4 damage with his sword, but misses his dagger strike.
Alaulure Disengages and moves into hiding. Turvy still gets an AoO, but misses.
Drow Warrior A misses Turvy.
Drow Warrior B hits Stool for 8 damage, and 1 offhand damage.
Drow Warrior C shoots Derendil for 2 damage.

Derendil's turn!

Spoiler: Initiative

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Borthan - 22

Drow Elite - 21
Alaulure - 14
Drow Warriors - 14

Derendil - 12

Drow Scouts - 12
Alaufaen - 11
Drow Zombies - 11

Nilvae/Stool/Familiars - 10.5

Quaggoth - 9
Babau - 9

Turvy - 8
Topsy - Delayed
Faedryl/Sarith - 7.5
Jimjar - 6
Mr. Spide/Dr. Donk - 6
Shuushar - 6
Ront - 4

[purepolarpanzer]

Prince Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 16/26 PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Sanity 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (0hp/8hp) Concentrating on: Derendil lashes out at the drow elite, trying to keep guarded while clawing at his eyes.

Spoiler: OOC

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(1d20+5)[19] to hit and (1d6+5)[10].