Lia comes to, manacled and beaten. She can taste blood in her mouth, her lip is swollen, and her hair is wet and matted with mud and grime.
She sees her captors, and sees her instruments, if only she could grab them… and then she sees more drow approaching, mistreating two small svirfneblin, before subduing the poor little folk with poison bolts.
Wincing in pain, she manages to quietly lift herself up off the cold ground slightly, so she‘s at least kneeling. Her head, still just lolling forward, dizzy… her damp hair hanging in dirty strings down over her face.
She takes in a hitching, snivelling breath, clearly shaken and scared. She lets it out. She takes another breath, calmer than the last, trying to master her fear and confusion…
Then she’s whispering, or maybe muttering… maybe it’s nothing…
Slightly louder now… not muttering, but… singing?…
Faint singing, in celestial…
“Thlel si thlel si salson… Scelthick soop ou thol soop… Siack… Siack… Ee op eeleenm cem… …”
A haunting sound, beautiful but somehow terrifying… …
Quiet at first, and slow, but word-by-word, line-by-line, her voice gradually sounds clearer, more confident… Still relatively quiet (although the drow will begin to notice by now)… And still staring at the ground, her face shrouded by her lank hair.
She continues singing… and singing… and singing…
Maybe her eyes are looking up at the drow now, staring into their souls through her hair, daring them to make the first move, maybe not… It’s hard to tell in the dark with her head hanging forward like that…
When Galingal smells the faint whiff of smoke, he assumes Lex has tried some sort of magic. He just nods. And when Tom introduces himself, he responds with "I named Galingal".
,He then settles into a lotus position, entering his trance. While he does not want to, he still reaches out to her. To the queen. When the time comes, he will need the power she grants. Eventually the trance quiets his mind but when the screaming starts, Galingal gets up quickly, jumping up to his feet and settling into a crouch. He turns his head from side to side, listening.
"What happened?" Galingal calls out. "Fighting?"
He reaches back and touches the wall, adjusting his stance as he does so he has room to move if needed.
@Thom, he does unless he took it off or it got dislodged while avoiding tangling with Prince Derindil.
Day 7: Lia
The drow look over at you, but don't say anything at first, but when you don't shut up, one of them stands and barks something at you threateningly. It's clear he's saying something along the lines of 'stop singing or you're gonna get smacked'.
He begins drawing his blade to back up his implied threat.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM:Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Lia’s head snaps up at the drow that spoke (the one with his hand on his sword).
After one final, potent, arcane-phrase woven into her song, to everyone else, it appears that Lia has obeyed, and has become silent. Quite the model prisoner really! Although, if they looked closely, maybe they could see her lips still moving behind her hair…
Blessed silence fills the cavern…
However, the unfortunate individual reaching for his sword, can still hear Lia’s voice. Same song but infernal now instead of celestial… and louder… and louder still…
Suddenly, inexplicably, this drow might feel a deep nostalgia, and then hope and love, then abject regret… and finally he’s wracked with terrible pain… Like all his thoughts and memories are expanding to fill his brain, and threatening to burst out through his skull like a balloon…
Through her damp hair, Lia just stares at him, her lips still silently moving…
((She hopes the others might take a second or two to realise anything is even happening? Or be distracted by his screams (or death!). )).
The unlucky drow will need to make a WIS save (DC13) or take 3 (psychic damage) and move as far away from Lia as his speed allows (or half damage and no move on a success).
If the other drow are none the wiser, or confused, or preoccupied with helping their friend, she just glances from one drow to the other, preparing to whisper her silent pain into the next one…
Lia sings her arcane phrase again then subjects the same drow to more of the same…
Cast a spell action (dissonant whispers): WIS save (DC13) or take 8(psychic damage) and move as far away from Lia as his speed allows (or half damage and no move on a success).
His mind wracked with pain, the drow stumbles away, as Lia is swarmed by his fellows, there's a lot of yelling, some stabbing, some pain, and then darkness.
When she next comes to, she's strung like a hunted deer on a rough pole between two drow, her wrists and ankles bound painfully, and pulling with each step of her captors.
Some sort of fungus has been jammed in her mouth and bound in place with cord and cloth.
Lia regains consciousness, gagged, and hanging from her bound wrists and ankles. She looks around, trying to keep any movements small and slow ((does she see 4 or 3 drow with her?… Can she still see her instruments?)).
There’s no way she can sing through the gag, or speak. She can hardly even breath.
She tries her best to remember landmarks and the route they take, whilst simultaneously telling herself it’s futile to even attempt it. Even if she can find her way back here, she’s already hopelessly lost.
She closes her eyes and clasps her hands together, focusing her celestial energies. She manages to heal herself a tiny bit ((+1hp through racial feature Healing Hands (only requires touch). )).
She keeps her eyes closed and reaches out with her thoughts. Trying to feel for even a shred of light, or warmth, or goodness in this place… ‘Why?… Why did you send me here?…’, she thinks to herself.
You're knocked out by the drow, and when you come to this time, you're lying on a cold stone floor, surrounded by an assortment of individuals who are similarly manacled. The wad of fungus and cloth they used to gag you has been replaced by what feels, pressing against your tongue, to be a wedge of wood that is fitted against your teeth. Leather straps hold it in place, and hold your lower jaw tight. There is a curved tube extending from the block of wood, which must pass through, as your breathing passes in and out of the... feeding tube? All in all, it leaves you unable to speak, drool fills your mouth as well.
As you get your breathing under control, you look around.
A wild eyed fellow with a rabbit pelt hat, a grey-skinned, tattooed elf with mask over his upper face, a fish-man, a human girl with white hair and piercing blue eyes, an angry looking orc, a dark skinned bald gnome, a well beaten drow in manacles like the rest of you, and an ashen completed woman with red hair.
Day 7: All prisoners
You're put to work with manual labor or entertaining drow who like to see you suffer, Mistress Ilvara does some threatening, and you have some thin broth.
In the evening, three new captives are deposited.
A woman with white hair and a faintly glittering skin, and some sort of wooden block with a tube extending from it strapped and secured in her mouth. and a pair of scruffy looking youths that Jimjar identifies as fellow deep gnomes. They begin to stir.
Day 8: All prisoners
Another day of labor, degradation and mistreatment. Lia has gotten the hang of sticking her proboscis into the bowl of broth to at least be able to feed herself, though none of you have been able to hear her speak, she's been able to spell things out on the floor of the cave to at least make herself understood.
Day 9: Stena
Well... beans. Should have known it was too good to last. If only you hadn't stayed late and had that last pint and that last slice... well, half of a pie. But you did, and you got scooped by some blasted drow, who've marched you through the Underdark, up a lift into their stalactite outpost, where they dumped you into a slave pen filled with the oddest assortment of misplaced oddballs.
There's a wild eyed fellow with a rabbit pelt hat, a grey-skinned, tattooed elf with mask over his upper face, a fish-man, a human girl with white hair and piercing blue eyes, an angry looking orc, a dark skinned bald gnome, a well beaten drow in manacles like the rest of you, and an ashen completed woman with red hair, a woman with white hair and a faintly glittering skin, and some sort of wooden block with a tube extending from it strapped and secured in her mouth. and a pair of scruffy looking youths.
Day 9: Everyone else
Only one new arrival today, a rather lithe looking female dwarf.
((Rushed it a bit, but wanted to get everyone in the game.))
Day 7: Lia is broken and exhausted. She barely acknowledges her fellow inmates, and collapses asleep where she’s left…
Day 8: ((OOC: Does Lia dream or have nightmares? Can ‘She’ reach her?)) Either way, Lia wakes early…
First, she just opens her eyes, laying there not moving, and she sees the others, just heaps of various sizes sleeping in the dark. She stretches. ‘Clink’: ‘hells… manacles…’, she thinks. No belongings. Where are her instruments?! And what’s she wearing, torn rags?…
She shuffles into a sitting position, knees pulled up to her chest. She feels for her aching mouth, what have they done to her? Some kind of ridiculous, degrading, feeding gag. With her forearm she pushes her hair out of her face as best she can.
Lia attempts a muffled hum. Just quiet to see if she can feel the weave around her resonating and responding to the sound…
She can’t sing, or annunciate any arcane words, she just wants to see if she can feel the weave around her ((Arcana check?: 9)).
She sighs. It comes out as a gurgle… She sits there, humming very quietly to herself, hugging her knees and rocking gently in time. And she waits for the others to wake up…
At some point during the day (day 8), Lia would approach the most badly beaten prisoner (the badly beaten drow?), reach out her hand, and with a kind enquiring look on her face, seeking consent, she’d touch them, and attempt to heal for 1hp using her ’Healing Hands’ racial ability. ((Was wondering whether that would work, as it’s not a spell as such?)).
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Stena immediately moves to have a wall at her back to assess her pen mates warily.
Her gaze darts between all of them but lingers longest on the Drow and orc initially but skips to others. Taking in what she can to figure out who is with who and who is going to be a problem.
Perception: 22
(She doesn't know the fish man or kids' species?)
She then looks for a weapon, even a rock would do.
Perception: 13
She won't say anything, even if addressed, but will listen. If anyone approaches her she'll more into an aggressive stance.
While regarding the standoff between Thom and the Prince, Thom is making some rather intense eyes and a threat in Elvish.
The Prince is a bit distracted, already off on his speculation, but he pauses and looks at Thom quizzically.
"Threats to a heir to the kingdom are not taken likely, but I can understand your displeasure at my prior actions. I swear upon my family's honor, by the Kingdom of Nelrindenvane, that I will not lay a hand... er.. paw, I suppose, upon you unprovoked. But neither will I weather disrespect. I am a Prince of my people, and I will endeavor to overcome the bestial urges that my curse has afflicted me with."
There's a bit more back and forth.
"Perhaps you'll reconsider the position once we win our freedom. One possible upside to the form I've been cursed with is that it is quite powerful. I was skilled with bow and sword, having been trained by the finest instructors from a young age, but I would be at quite a loss to overpower our captors with my bare hands. In this form, that's quite a possibility, though once I start, I find myself a bit overwhelmed with the violent urges that you were nearly subjected to. I fear my impressive willpower may be eroding, please..."
He rests a paw lightly on your shoulder (or attempts to).
"I know you've not consented to the position as of yet, but should I be taken by the bestial madness, and lose track of myself, I would be ever so grateful if you were to remind me of who I am. It may give me the strength I need to come back to my right mind."
Day 7: Lia
Lia didn't notice them at first, but there's also an unkempt dwarven looking fellow who smiles and waves, and a hulking, furry creature who is sitting very properly and stiffly against the far wall.
((An example of his species.))
Day 7, night: Thom
You hear a deep whisper in Elvish.
"Help me!"
You wake, opening your eyes to see Prince Derendil looming over you, and your first instinct is to defend yourself, but you see the panic and fear in his eyes.
"Please, as my possible future advisor, you have to help me! I woke up like this! I fear my curse by that blasted Terrestor has taken a new turn!"
He holds up a paw, the fur having fallen out, and the skin translucent. Within you can see swirling undulation of pale blue fluid roiling within.
As he holds it up, the change spreads, fur raining down on you, as you sputter and brush it out of your face, more and more of him has gone translucent and swirling, until his skin breaks, drenching you in sickly sour fluid...
And then you wake up, gasping and drenched in sweat. Prince Derendil snores softly in the corner. You look around and Buppido raises a finger to his mouth to give you a shushing motion before rolling over himself and going back to sleep.
Day 8: Lia
There is a sullen drow and a sulking orc, neither of which are too keen on you touching them, looking at you strangely as you place your hand on them and look at them expectantly as nothing happens. They pull their leg back and go back to staring at the walls.
Day 8, night: Galingal
The drow come for you, Mistress Ilvara leading the way, as the only female drow you've heard here so far.
"You're too much trouble as you are, shadow elf.", she remarks to you in Elvish. "It would be difficult to get decent coin for a slave whose prone to just blinking off whenever their master's back is turned, and that mask is at best a temporary solution. But don't worry, we've a more permanent one in mind."
The iron bars creak open as footsteps approach, hands hauling you to your feet and dragging you from the slave pen. You try to drag your feet, but are smacked around until you walk, the drow hustling you across the rope bridge to the stalactite where you're thrust into a chair and bound. You can feel heat on the lower half of your face, as hands work at the lock and straps securing your mask.
"If you cooperate, it will go much more quickly, and much less likely for there to be complications."
The mask is quickly removed, and after days of darkness, you're blinded by the torches and luminous fungi held close to your eyes, squinting against tears as you struggle to gain your bearings. Hands grab your head, prying your eyelids open, and you can feel heat approaching, your eyelashes curling from the heat as a poker is thrust into one eye, and then the other, the sizzle and excruciating pain halting the scream building in your throat, the fluid of your eyes running down your cheeks as you thrash....
...and wake up, a sweaty mess on the floor of the slave pens.
Day 9: Stena
Stena didn't notice them at first, but there's also an unkempt dwarven looking fellow who smiles and waves, and a hulking, furry creature who is sitting very properly and stiffly against the far wall.
((An example of his species.))
The closest thing to a weapon she can find are at the end of her own hands.
Looking a bit closer at her fellow captors (given your Underdark experience), you recognize the fish-man as kuo-toa, but without the bulge-eyed madness they normally exhibit... he seems almost calm. The two kids are young deep gnomes, the scruffy dwarven guy is a derro, and the big beastie is a quaggoth.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM:Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
They are roughly 16 or so, so not super young children. It seems a lot of the prisoners are kind of going out of their way to avoid making eye contact.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM:Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Galingal sits up after the nightmare shakes him from his trance. He racing heartbeat causes him to turn his head slightly. Confused. A nightmare in a trance is almost unheard of for his people. He wonders if its really the Queen reaching out. Showing him a way.
"If they did, a second, a second to act and get away," Galingal whispers to himself.
Rather than be terrifying, the nightmare showed him a possible way out.
He listens for sounds of movement or snoring, trying to gauge if anyone is awake.
"You are many," Galingal finally says. "But many not talk. Why? Lex and Tom talk escape. Are others spy for drow?"
Lia wakes early, as usual, whether she has the dreams or not. Just out of habit more than anything else.
She hears the elf with the mask speak. She doesn’t catch all of it. Maybe the tune and cadence of it was elvish? Or common? No matter. Some of the others are still asleep so she stands and walks over.
She kneels beside him. Knowing he can’t see her, she hums a greeting of two or three chirpy notes, as she approaches. Something like ‘da-daa’ / ‘He-llo’.
Then she speaks a couple of muffled syllables, “Urff- Ah- guhh-“.
If he doesn’t startle too badly, or move to a defensive or agressive posture, she will slowly… tentatively… reach for his hand…
And then bring it to her face…
And then move his hand across the gag and around the straps, and then let him trace with his fingers the rest of the mask she wears.
She’s crying, but silently. He wouldn’t know unless he felt her cheek, or sensed the slight disturbances in her breathing…
Lia comes to, manacled and beaten. She can taste blood in her mouth, her lip is swollen, and her hair is wet and matted with mud and grime.
She sees her captors, and sees her instruments, if only she could grab them… and then she sees more drow approaching, mistreating two small svirfneblin, before subduing the poor little folk with poison bolts.
Wincing in pain, she manages to quietly lift herself up off the cold ground slightly, so she‘s at least kneeling. Her head, still just lolling forward, dizzy… her damp hair hanging in dirty strings down over her face.
She takes in a hitching, snivelling breath, clearly shaken and scared. She lets it out. She takes another breath, calmer than the last, trying to master her fear and confusion…
Then she’s whispering, or maybe muttering… maybe it’s nothing…
Slightly louder now… not muttering, but… singing?…
Faint singing, in celestial…
“Thlel si thlel si salson…
Scelthick soop ou thol soop…
Siack… Siack…
Ee op eeleenm cem… …”
A haunting sound, beautiful but somehow terrifying… …
((A little something like this…))
Quiet at first, and slow, but word-by-word, line-by-line, her voice gradually sounds clearer, more confident… Still relatively quiet (although the drow will begin to notice by now)… And still staring at the ground, her face shrouded by her lank hair.
She continues singing… and singing… and singing…
Maybe her eyes are looking up at the drow now, staring into their souls through her hair, daring them to make the first move, maybe not… It’s hard to tell in the dark with her head hanging forward like that…
GILLAIN OF ATHKATLA - Human Paladin - Into the Mists PHILLIP THE GRUNG - Grung Eldritch Knight - Tomb of Annihilation
ROBWIN WINDROBE - High Elf Wizard - Dragon of Icespire Peak EVE DARKSHORE - Tiefling Warlock - Rime of the Frost Maiden
ASH OF THE FIRE - Tabaxi Rogue - Ghosts of Marshswamp LIA STARBORN - Aasimar Bard - Out of the Abyss
When Galingal smells the faint whiff of smoke, he assumes Lex has tried some sort of magic. He just nods. And when Tom introduces himself, he responds with "I named Galingal".
,He then settles into a lotus position, entering his trance. While he does not want to, he still reaches out to her. To the queen. When the time comes, he will need the power she grants. Eventually the trance quiets his mind but when the screaming starts, Galingal gets up quickly, jumping up to his feet and settling into a crouch. He turns his head from side to side, listening.
"What happened?" Galingal calls out. "Fighting?"
He reaches back and touches the wall, adjusting his stance as he does so he has room to move if needed.
@Thom, he does unless he took it off or it got dislodged while avoiding tangling with Prince Derindil.
Day 7: Lia
The drow look over at you, but don't say anything at first, but when you don't shut up, one of them stands and barks something at you threateningly. It's clear he's saying something along the lines of 'stop singing or you're gonna get smacked'.
He begins drawing his blade to back up his implied threat.
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock
Lia’s head snaps up at the drow that spoke (the one with his hand on his sword).
After one final, potent, arcane-phrase woven into her song, to everyone else, it appears that Lia has obeyed, and has become silent. Quite the model prisoner really! Although, if they looked closely, maybe they could see her lips still moving behind her hair…
Blessed silence fills the cavern…
However, the unfortunate individual reaching for his sword, can still hear Lia’s voice. Same song but infernal now instead of celestial… and louder… and louder still…
Suddenly, inexplicably, this drow might feel a deep nostalgia, and then hope and love, then abject regret… and finally he’s wracked with terrible pain… Like all his thoughts and memories are expanding to fill his brain, and threatening to burst out through his skull like a balloon…
Through her damp hair, Lia just stares at him, her lips still silently moving…
Lia attempts to cast Dissonant Whispers…
((She hopes the others might take a second or two to realise anything is even happening? Or be distracted by his screams (or death!). )).
The unlucky drow will need to make a WIS save (DC13) or take 3 (psychic damage) and move as far away from Lia as his speed allows (or half damage and no move on a success).
If the other drow are none the wiser, or confused, or preoccupied with helping their friend, she just glances from one drow to the other, preparing to whisper her silent pain into the next one…
GILLAIN OF ATHKATLA - Human Paladin - Into the Mists PHILLIP THE GRUNG - Grung Eldritch Knight - Tomb of Annihilation
ROBWIN WINDROBE - High Elf Wizard - Dragon of Icespire Peak EVE DARKSHORE - Tiefling Warlock - Rime of the Frost Maiden
ASH OF THE FIRE - Tabaxi Rogue - Ghosts of Marshswamp LIA STARBORN - Aasimar Bard - Out of the Abyss
Day 7: Lia
WIS Save: 16
The drow shakes his head at the pain and yells something at you and the others, and they are converging on you.
Drow Initiative: 16
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock
Lia initiative: 21
Lia sings her arcane phrase again then subjects the same drow to more of the same…
Cast a spell action (dissonant whispers): WIS save (DC13) or take 8 (psychic damage) and move as far away from Lia as his speed allows (or half damage and no move on a success).
GILLAIN OF ATHKATLA - Human Paladin - Into the Mists PHILLIP THE GRUNG - Grung Eldritch Knight - Tomb of Annihilation
ROBWIN WINDROBE - High Elf Wizard - Dragon of Icespire Peak EVE DARKSHORE - Tiefling Warlock - Rime of the Frost Maiden
ASH OF THE FIRE - Tabaxi Rogue - Ghosts of Marshswamp LIA STARBORN - Aasimar Bard - Out of the Abyss
Day 7: Lia
Wis Save: 1
His mind wracked with pain, the drow stumbles away, as Lia is swarmed by his fellows, there's a lot of yelling, some stabbing, some pain, and then darkness.
When she next comes to, she's strung like a hunted deer on a rough pole between two drow, her wrists and ankles bound painfully, and pulling with each step of her captors.
Some sort of fungus has been jammed in her mouth and bound in place with cord and cloth.
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock
Lia regains consciousness, gagged, and hanging from her bound wrists and ankles. She looks around, trying to keep any movements small and slow ((does she see 4 or 3 drow with her?… Can she still see her instruments?)).
There’s no way she can sing through the gag, or speak. She can hardly even breath.
She tries her best to remember landmarks and the route they take, whilst simultaneously telling herself it’s futile to even attempt it. Even if she can find her way back here, she’s already hopelessly lost.
She closes her eyes and clasps her hands together, focusing her celestial energies. She manages to heal herself a tiny bit ((+1hp through racial feature Healing Hands (only requires touch). )).
She keeps her eyes closed and reaches out with her thoughts. Trying to feel for even a shred of light, or warmth, or goodness in this place… ‘Why?… Why did you send me here?…’, she thinks to herself.
If she can rest, she will rest…
GILLAIN OF ATHKATLA - Human Paladin - Into the Mists PHILLIP THE GRUNG - Grung Eldritch Knight - Tomb of Annihilation
ROBWIN WINDROBE - High Elf Wizard - Dragon of Icespire Peak EVE DARKSHORE - Tiefling Warlock - Rime of the Frost Maiden
ASH OF THE FIRE - Tabaxi Rogue - Ghosts of Marshswamp LIA STARBORN - Aasimar Bard - Out of the Abyss
Day 7: Lia
You get no response from her.
You're knocked out by the drow, and when you come to this time, you're lying on a cold stone floor, surrounded by an assortment of individuals who are similarly manacled. The wad of fungus and cloth they used to gag you has been replaced by what feels, pressing against your tongue, to be a wedge of wood that is fitted against your teeth. Leather straps hold it in place, and hold your lower jaw tight. There is a curved tube extending from the block of wood, which must pass through, as your breathing passes in and out of the... feeding tube? All in all, it leaves you unable to speak, drool fills your mouth as well.
As you get your breathing under control, you look around.
A wild eyed fellow with a rabbit pelt hat, a grey-skinned, tattooed elf with mask over his upper face, a fish-man, a human girl with white hair and piercing blue eyes, an angry looking orc, a dark skinned bald gnome, a well beaten drow in manacles like the rest of you, and an ashen completed woman with red hair.
Day 7: All prisoners
You're put to work with manual labor or entertaining drow who like to see you suffer, Mistress Ilvara does some threatening, and you have some thin broth.
In the evening, three new captives are deposited.
A woman with white hair and a faintly glittering skin, and some sort of wooden block with a tube extending from it strapped and secured in her mouth. and a pair of scruffy looking youths that Jimjar identifies as fellow deep gnomes. They begin to stir.
Day 8: All prisoners
Another day of labor, degradation and mistreatment. Lia has gotten the hang of sticking her proboscis into the bowl of broth to at least be able to feed herself, though none of you have been able to hear her speak, she's been able to spell things out on the floor of the cave to at least make herself understood.
Day 9: Stena
Well... beans. Should have known it was too good to last. If only you hadn't stayed late and had that last pint and that last slice... well, half of a pie. But you did, and you got scooped by some blasted drow, who've marched you through the Underdark, up a lift into their stalactite outpost, where they dumped you into a slave pen filled with the oddest assortment of misplaced oddballs.
There's a wild eyed fellow with a rabbit pelt hat, a grey-skinned, tattooed elf with mask over his upper face, a fish-man, a human girl with white hair and piercing blue eyes, an angry looking orc, a dark skinned bald gnome, a well beaten drow in manacles like the rest of you, and an ashen completed woman with red hair, a woman with white hair and a faintly glittering skin, and some sort of wooden block with a tube extending from it strapped and secured in her mouth. and a pair of scruffy looking youths.
Day 9: Everyone else
Only one new arrival today, a rather lithe looking female dwarf.
((Rushed it a bit, but wanted to get everyone in the game.))
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock
Day 7: Lia is broken and exhausted. She barely acknowledges her fellow inmates, and collapses asleep where she’s left…
Day 8: ((OOC: Does Lia dream or have nightmares? Can ‘She’ reach her?)) Either way, Lia wakes early…
First, she just opens her eyes, laying there not moving, and she sees the others, just heaps of various sizes sleeping in the dark. She stretches. ‘Clink’: ‘hells… manacles…’, she thinks. No belongings. Where are her instruments?! And what’s she wearing, torn rags?…
She shuffles into a sitting position, knees pulled up to her chest. She feels for her aching mouth, what have they done to her? Some kind of ridiculous, degrading, feeding gag. With her forearm she pushes her hair out of her face as best she can.
Lia attempts a muffled hum. Just quiet to see if she can feel the weave around her resonating and responding to the sound…
((Like a much more gagged and muffled version of this…))
She can’t sing, or annunciate any arcane words, she just wants to see if she can feel the weave around her ((Arcana check?: 9)).
She sighs. It comes out as a gurgle… She sits there, humming very quietly to herself, hugging her knees and rocking gently in time. And she waits for the others to wake up…
At some point during the day (day 8), Lia would approach the most badly beaten prisoner (the badly beaten drow?), reach out her hand, and with a kind enquiring look on her face, seeking consent, she’d touch them, and attempt to heal for 1hp using her ’Healing Hands’ racial ability. ((Was wondering whether that would work, as it’s not a spell as such?)).
GILLAIN OF ATHKATLA - Human Paladin - Into the Mists PHILLIP THE GRUNG - Grung Eldritch Knight - Tomb of Annihilation
ROBWIN WINDROBE - High Elf Wizard - Dragon of Icespire Peak EVE DARKSHORE - Tiefling Warlock - Rime of the Frost Maiden
ASH OF THE FIRE - Tabaxi Rogue - Ghosts of Marshswamp LIA STARBORN - Aasimar Bard - Out of the Abyss
Stena immediately moves to have a wall at her back to assess her pen mates warily.
Her gaze darts between all of them but lingers longest on the Drow and orc initially but skips to others. Taking in what she can to figure out who is with who and who is going to be a problem.
Perception: 22
(She doesn't know the fish man or kids' species?)
She then looks for a weapon, even a rock would do.
Perception: 13
She won't say anything, even if addressed, but will listen. If anyone approaches her she'll more into an aggressive stance.
Day 6: All prisoners
While regarding the standoff between Thom and the Prince, Thom is making some rather intense eyes and a threat in Elvish.
The Prince is a bit distracted, already off on his speculation, but he pauses and looks at Thom quizzically.
"Threats to a heir to the kingdom are not taken likely, but I can understand your displeasure at my prior actions. I swear upon my family's honor, by the Kingdom of Nelrindenvane, that I will not lay a hand... er.. paw, I suppose, upon you unprovoked. But neither will I weather disrespect. I am a Prince of my people, and I will endeavor to overcome the bestial urges that my curse has afflicted me with."
There's a bit more back and forth.
"Perhaps you'll reconsider the position once we win our freedom. One possible upside to the form I've been cursed with is that it is quite powerful. I was skilled with bow and sword, having been trained by the finest instructors from a young age, but I would be at quite a loss to overpower our captors with my bare hands. In this form, that's quite a possibility, though once I start, I find myself a bit overwhelmed with the violent urges that you were nearly subjected to. I fear my impressive willpower may be eroding, please..."
He rests a paw lightly on your shoulder (or attempts to).
"I know you've not consented to the position as of yet, but should I be taken by the bestial madness, and lose track of myself, I would be ever so grateful if you were to remind me of who I am. It may give me the strength I need to come back to my right mind."
Day 7: Lia
Lia didn't notice them at first, but there's also an unkempt dwarven looking fellow who smiles and waves, and a hulking, furry creature who is sitting very properly and stiffly against the far wall.
((An example of his species.))
Day 7, night: Thom
You hear a deep whisper in Elvish.
"Help me!"
You wake, opening your eyes to see Prince Derendil looming over you, and your first instinct is to defend yourself, but you see the panic and fear in his eyes.
"Please, as my possible future advisor, you have to help me! I woke up like this! I fear my curse by that blasted Terrestor has taken a new turn!"
He holds up a paw, the fur having fallen out, and the skin translucent. Within you can see swirling undulation of pale blue fluid roiling within.
As he holds it up, the change spreads, fur raining down on you, as you sputter and brush it out of your face, more and more of him has gone translucent and swirling, until his skin breaks, drenching you in sickly sour fluid...
And then you wake up, gasping and drenched in sweat. Prince Derendil snores softly in the corner. You look around and Buppido raises a finger to his mouth to give you a shushing motion before rolling over himself and going back to sleep.
Day 8: Lia
There is a sullen drow and a sulking orc, neither of which are too keen on you touching them, looking at you strangely as you place your hand on them and look at them expectantly as nothing happens. They pull their leg back and go back to staring at the walls.
Day 8, night: Galingal
The drow come for you, Mistress Ilvara leading the way, as the only female drow you've heard here so far.
"You're too much trouble as you are, shadow elf.", she remarks to you in Elvish. "It would be difficult to get decent coin for a slave whose prone to just blinking off whenever their master's back is turned, and that mask is at best a temporary solution. But don't worry, we've a more permanent one in mind."
The iron bars creak open as footsteps approach, hands hauling you to your feet and dragging you from the slave pen. You try to drag your feet, but are smacked around until you walk, the drow hustling you across the rope bridge to the stalactite where you're thrust into a chair and bound. You can feel heat on the lower half of your face, as hands work at the lock and straps securing your mask.
"If you cooperate, it will go much more quickly, and much less likely for there to be complications."
The mask is quickly removed, and after days of darkness, you're blinded by the torches and luminous fungi held close to your eyes, squinting against tears as you struggle to gain your bearings. Hands grab your head, prying your eyelids open, and you can feel heat approaching, your eyelashes curling from the heat as a poker is thrust into one eye, and then the other, the sizzle and excruciating pain halting the scream building in your throat, the fluid of your eyes running down your cheeks as you thrash....
...and wake up, a sweaty mess on the floor of the slave pens.
Day 9: Stena
Stena didn't notice them at first, but there's also an unkempt dwarven looking fellow who smiles and waves, and a hulking, furry creature who is sitting very properly and stiffly against the far wall.
((An example of his species.))
The closest thing to a weapon she can find are at the end of her own hands.
Looking a bit closer at her fellow captors (given your Underdark experience), you recognize the fish-man as kuo-toa, but without the bulge-eyed madness they normally exhibit... he seems almost calm. The two kids are young deep gnomes, the scruffy dwarven guy is a derro, and the big beastie is a quaggoth.
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock
Stena narrows her eyes at the derro and his friendliness but is concerned by the children being here. She checks to see if anyone is watching them.
For now she'll just keep listening and watching.
They are roughly 16 or so, so not super young children. It seems a lot of the prisoners are kind of going out of their way to avoid making eye contact.
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock
Galingal sits up after the nightmare shakes him from his trance. He racing heartbeat causes him to turn his head slightly. Confused. A nightmare in a trance is almost unheard of for his people. He wonders if its really the Queen reaching out. Showing him a way.
"If they did, a second, a second to act and get away," Galingal whispers to himself.
Rather than be terrifying, the nightmare showed him a possible way out.
He listens for sounds of movement or snoring, trying to gauge if anyone is awake.
"You are many," Galingal finally says. "But many not talk. Why? Lex and Tom talk escape. Are others spy for drow?"
((What language are you asking that in, Galingal?))
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock
((Just eye contact with Stena or with everyone? Except the friendly derro?))
((Make an Insight check Stena.))
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock
Lia wakes early, as usual, whether she has the dreams or not. Just out of habit more than anything else.
She hears the elf with the mask speak. She doesn’t catch all of it. Maybe the tune and cadence of it was elvish? Or common? No matter. Some of the others are still asleep so she stands and walks over.
She kneels beside him. Knowing he can’t see her, she hums a greeting of two or three chirpy notes, as she approaches. Something like ‘da-daa’ / ‘He-llo’.
Then she speaks a couple of muffled syllables, “Urff- Ah- guhh-“.
If he doesn’t startle too badly, or move to a defensive or agressive posture, she will slowly… tentatively… reach for his hand…
And then bring it to her face…
And then move his hand across the gag and around the straps, and then let him trace with his fingers the rest of the mask she wears.
She’s crying, but silently. He wouldn’t know unless he felt her cheek, or sensed the slight disturbances in her breathing…
GILLAIN OF ATHKATLA - Human Paladin - Into the Mists PHILLIP THE GRUNG - Grung Eldritch Knight - Tomb of Annihilation
ROBWIN WINDROBE - High Elf Wizard - Dragon of Icespire Peak EVE DARKSHORE - Tiefling Warlock - Rime of the Frost Maiden
ASH OF THE FIRE - Tabaxi Rogue - Ghosts of Marshswamp LIA STARBORN - Aasimar Bard - Out of the Abyss
Galingal, something snuffles and grunts at you, before touching your hand...
DM: Forged in Chaos, Spiders of the Abyss, The Sundered Way, Champions of the Citadel
Active Characters:
Breldo, Halfling Ranger | Kathryn, Wood Elf Rogue/Ranger | Kroshav, Dragonborn Paladin | T'laren Farsiel, Wood Elf Fighter | Trill, Kenku Bard | Val "Janellae", Mark of Shadow Elf Warlock