Captured by the drow! You wouldn’t wish this fate upon anyone, yet here you are — locked in a dark cave, the cold, heavy weight of metal tight around your throat and wrists. You are not alone. Other prisoners are trapped in here with you, in an underground outpost far from the light of the sun. Your captors include a cruel drow priestess who calls herself Mistress Ilvara of House Mizzrym. Over the past several days, you’ve met her several times, robed in silken garments and flanked by two male drow, one of whom has a mass of scars along one side of his face and neck. Mistress Ilvara likes to impress her will with scourge in hand and remind you that your life now belongs to her. “Accept your fate, learn to obey, and you may survive.” Her words echo in your memory, even as you plot your escape.
(OOC:)
When introducing your character please roll a d10 and a d20, list them separately.
Even as she plots her escape, Khessa continues to play the role of the broken slave, the one who 'accepted her fate' and who has every intention of 'learn to obey'.
Though tall and imposing, the woman keeps her shoulders hunched. Her blue eyes mostly look at the ground (although they try not to miss anything they can catch, little by little, with occasional furtive glances). Her long, curly blonde hair, given her bent and submissive posture, often falls on her face, partially hiding her beautiful features.
'I already fooled them once' she is thinking, with angry determination, in the secret of her mind. 'I'll do it again. As I escaped the first time, when they kidnapped me and my family, so I will flee again. I was rash, to go back to the Underdark alone to look for them... But I will treasure this mistake. I'll come out of it. I must'.
'Drow are cruel and merciless' she remembers from her past experience. 'But they are also arrogant. Again I will convince them that they have broken my spirit. I'll let them let their guard down. Then I'll show them how wrong they were. Strut yourself with your whip, Mistress Ilvara... I will reserve you soon the same attention that Mistress Xen'faria has already received. So the both of you will have something in common to speak about, when you find yourself keeping company in the presence of Lolth, that vermin who convinced you to be a goddess!'
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Katryl sits on the floor with her knees drawn up beneath her chin. Rather difficult to see in the dark, the orange-red streaks in her dark grey hair seemed to writhe about despite any sign of a breeze. The first days had been hard, as her defiance had been strong and clear when the priestess confronted her. She did a bit better the last few days, but hiding her fury was not an easy thing to do. How was she to take the glow from her eyes when angered? But really, her true rage was directed towards herself. How could she have let herself be caught?
In the darkness she looks about, trying to make out the others. But it isn't much use. She knew that she would likely be hard to pick out in the dark, her ashy grey skin more likely to blend into the darkness than be seen. Only her hair streaks and bright brownish-orange eyes might give her away. Eyes that seemed sometimes to glow from within, as they perhaps were now, reflecting her pent-up anger. A flame - that would illuminate things! But she hadn't dared try anything like that thus far.
(OOC: just a question: in the 'dark cave' where we are imprisoned, there is (or is brought sometimes, maybe during the mistress' visits...) a source of light? Or this captivity is like perpetual blindness for those who lack darkvision?)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
1d10: 1
1d20: 3
Ebzer Bonebreak had not always been full of rage. Once, long ago, he had been the eldest son of the clan smith, learning the secrets of the forge in his home, deep in the Underdark. But then, the Drow came. Dark elves with their dark magic and their spider-goddess. Of course, his father and others had fought, bravely, ferociously, but in the end they were no match for the cunning and eldritch might of Lolth's disciples. Ebzer, wounded and bleeding, was dragged away from the battlefield by his mother, and sealed up in a tunnel for protection. When he recovered, it took him three days to dig his way out. By then, the village was razed, and everyone either carried off captive or dead. He built a pyre of the fallen, and sang the sacred songs that would carry them to the afterlife in the Deep Realm. Then, he set out for revenge. Traveling alone, he learned to survive, and then to thrive in the black tunnels of the Underdark. He became a hunter, an ambusher of Drow stragglers, and with each kill his anger and savagery grew. But two weeks ago, when stalking a lone drow, he fell into an ambush himself.
He seethes as Ilvara makes her condescending visits, dark thoughts of her death filling his mind. He bides his time for now, but soon, very soon, the rage will be uncontainable, and blood will flow...
In the darkest corner of the cave sits a dark elf, a drow in capture of his own kind, and there is no mistake in the shame it brings him. He snarls quietly as Mistress Ilvara of house Mizzrym reminds him of his woeful fate. How could he have not noticed the plotting against him by his siblings? He would let the fury over this mistake be the fuel for his escape. There was likely not any going back to his home in Menzoberranzan though, not until he had the power and leverage to regain his former station in the house of Duskryn. The drow let out a soft sigh, his vanity making him try to keep up appearances with his exquisite attire, all in black with spiders web patterns, but for a dark green mantle with white fur linings. He would need help he realized, not only to escape but more importantly to survuve the horrors of the vast underdark until he could reach civilization where he could start to plot his revenge. With this thought he carefully studies the other prisoners, immediately noticing a blonde beautiful human and the ashen one with fire in her eyes. Would they survive the underdark? They certainly seemed to be from the sunblasted surface, possibly prisoners from a raid. He could only hope they would have the strength to survive the dangers that waited those who made it away from this wretched place.
Ebzer's eyes frequently wander to the drow in the corner. He restrains himself from attack only because he knows it would lessen his chances to escape. And escape he must, if he is to continue to exact revenge on the cult of Lolth and their minions. He wonders what depths a dark elf could possibly sink to, to be imprisoned by his own kind. Were there any atrocities that were off-limits to the drow? Or maybe he had rebelled against the priestesses? No matter, he thought to himself grimly. There is no such thing as a sympathetic drow. None can be permitted to live.
The drow in the corner notices the duergar glaring at him, making him relieved the deep dwarf was chained to the wall as his mad eyes revealed that he didn't realize anyone in this prison would be his ally and not is enemy. Hopefully there were others more sensible who could see they were all in this together and had to look past old and mostly forgotten slights against the others race. Traydark knew for a fact that the only dominant race in the underdark to rival the drow in cruelty was the duergar themselves, although admittedly the drow were far more refined in their torture of the lesser races. Still, being confined to a sheltered life of his own kind for hundreds of years already, the dark elf was now somewhat curious to find out more about these other races his peers always scoffed at in their palaces back in Menzoberranzan.
'That sparkle again... What was that?' Khessa thinks 'Ah, yes. I had already noticed this a few times before. The eyes of that girl with the ashy gray skin. I can practically see her only when this... thing happens to her! Who knows what creature she is? Although she has dark skin she is not a drow... Could she be a magical creature? Perhaps escaping together would be safer for me than escaping alone...'
Following this thought, the blonde warrior begins to consider other possible companions of escape: 'Could the dwarf be a precious ally too? Dwarves see well in the dark. Although this... this looks different than any other dwarf I've met. I don't even know how much I can trust him... but he must not like this place much more than I do, after all! And dwarves are tough guys. Yes, I should take him into consideration'.
'Too bad we have him in here too!' thinks the tall adventurer, who noticed during the short sparkle that the drow in her corner is looking at her again 'A drow prisoner of drow... Could it be their spy? But no, what am I thinking... We are not a threat to them. We are prisoners. It wouldn't make sense to put a spy here. But then why is he here!? Is he too cruel and perverse even for his own people? Or maybe... on the contrary... maybe he's here because he disagrees with them?'
Whenever she has thought of him, Khessa has always had mixed thoughts.
'Maybe,' she speculates for the umpteenth time 'I could talk to him and try to understand the truth. But I don't like to risk him understanding the truth about me... that I'm not thinking about obedience, but about rebellion and escape! If he were the wrong person, he wouldn't think twice about betraying me in hopes of winning the sympathy of our jailers! But on the other hand, escaping with a drow might have its advantages... he could easily help us fool any other drow we encounter! So... who knows? Should I take him into consideration also?'
"I might look like one of them, but I'm not, and they will make me suffer for it. The Queen of Spiders is not my goddess, but I don't intend to die here, and from the conviction in your eyes..."The drow suddenly says softly but firmly, looking in turn at the blonde human, the ashen woman and the glaring duergar. "...I can see you won't either. So I propose we find a truce between our different races until we reach safety. I can assure you having a drow in tow as you navigate the underdark for whatever destination you ultimately have will help you avoid much trouble, especially one that is used to negotiate deals and alliances in the spiders nest of Menzoberranzan." He finishes confidently with a polite smile.
Khessa was examining with interest one of the dim lanterns lit with phosphorescent fungi... and had just removed some of the phosphorescent substance from inside the lamp, hiding it on her own person (for those who, like her, cannot see in the dark, it could be vital to have something with them capable of shedding light!) as she hears the drow speaking.
The tall adventurer turns to the drow and her blue eyes stare at him.
'So... things are this way? Is he really closed here because he's a dissident? Is he really different from other drow?' thoughts flock to the blonde warrior's mind 'Can I trust him?'
"Oh, so you are imprisoned because Lolth is not your goddess?" the voice of Khessa assumes a sweet tone, while she, struggling with the chains on her wrists, puts a hand on the shoulder of the interlocutor, as if to comfort him "Tell me something more, how did it happen that you ended up here? What did you do?"
The blue eyed warrior looks into his eyes with empathy... but she tries at the same time to notice any hesitation or clues of lies or deception while she waits for the other's answer.
Silas was captured just a few days after he entered the Underdark. He'd come here to do the impossible: to bring laughter to the sunless lands. He had heard tales of the Underdark all his life; his father had been an explorer in it and loved to tell stories of strange creatures and thrilling adventures he'd found there. So, after finding his calling, he came to the Underdark to seek his fortune and to spread the good word of Tymora. Certainly the unfortunate residents here could use a little acquaintance with the little Lady Luck.
He is tall for his kind, but skinny, looking like he hasn't eaten enough in months. His eyes shine green in torchlight, when torches are used. His fur is dark and his skin is a bit scarred. This has not been an easy imprisonment for him. He has watched this group come together. At the moment, his only intent is escape. His goddess is luck, but he knows that she only helps those who help themselves (and sometimes others, as it suits her). With a softly mumbled prayer to Tymora, he looks over his fellow captives, trying to determine whom he can trust.
He overhears one of the drow, discussing plans to escape, with a human warrior. He attempts to draw nearer and listen without drawing attention to himself.
Khessa is too focused on Traydark to notice Silas approaching... although she is willing to give the drow the benefit of the doubt, and eager to have allies to try to escape, she is all intent on studying his reactions...
The dark elf flinches slightly as the blonde human unexepctedly puts her hand on his shoulder. He realized he had never been touched before by one not of his own kind. It felt odd at first but he had a whole range of new experiences to make in this disparate company. He glances quickly at the catman who is seemingly also interested in what he has to say, before returning his gaze to the blue hues of the blonde human. "You could say that. Suffice to say I have no favor with the spider queen, but I was never truly her servant anyway. I ended up here due to the conspiring and plotting nature of my kind and I am paying the price for that. If you feel hatred towards our captors, imagine the fury that resides in me. I can never go back so you can trust me with needing you, likely more even than you would need me." He says calmly but firmly, giving the blonde a slight smile, briefly putting his hand on hers, before glancing around at the other prisoners, trying to determine if anyone of them would not kill him given half a chance.
(OOC: Lol! With that roll, he probably would have seemed sincere to her even if he claimed to be an over-tanned angel, who got his ears elongated by an angry giant pulling them, pretending to be a drow for the sole purpose of coming to help them escape)
The blonde warrior, upon feeling the drow's hand seeking contact with hers, squeezes it, as if to sign an agreement: "A contest of 'hate towards our captors' between you and me would probably be hard fought... I'm sorry, sincerely, that the drow have taken away your freedom and position; practically your life, since you will not be able to return to the life you had before, from what you say..." and now in the blue eyes the empathy for that victim of the drow is blatant and unreserved "But for what it's worth, I'll tell you that they took all that and even more from me. They took even my family, kidnapped, in their hands, held captive I don't know where. Those who survived at least, since one of my brothers was killed instead. And the village where I was born and raised was wiped out of Faerûn's face. I reveal this to you, because yes, I want to try to trust you. You seem sincere... and even if I know you could lie, I could never leave you here with the doubt that you are really so like me in what you've been through. I want to try to trust you. And at the same time" she suddenly becomes very serious "I also want you to be able to imagine what I would do to you if I found out that you have cheated me... and you are instead a slaver or a Lolth worshipper like them".
"And what do you two thi..." begins to ask the blonde warrior, turning to Katryl and Ebzer; so she realizes that in the meantime Silas had practically come up behind her!
"...Or maybe what do you three think, I should say" she corrects herself. "To tell the truth, I've been thinking about escaping ever since they captured me. Do you feel like coming and trying an escape with us? You all seem like a resourceful lot... Together, we may have more possibilities. Or do you think" she raises an eyebrow "you'd like more the crash course in obedience that Mistress Ilvara has a great desire to give us with her scourge?"
No matter how long you've been inprisoned, it has not been easy in the least. Your life has been a mix of attempting to rest on the cold hard floor of the cell, eating nothing but a thin mushroom both soup once a day, assuming none of the other prisoners took it from you first. There is nothing else in the cell besides a small grated hole in the middle for waste to run down, so you've held down whatever patch of hard rock you can. Your overseers have been everything from cruel to aloof, experiences you'd rather not have again if you possibly can.
Khessa wonders to herself if some of the others may also be trustworthy enough to be included in the escape plan... but at the moment she focuses on Katryl, Ebzer and Silas, as they are the ones who were in close proximity when she and Traydark started talking.
'Will they agree to try? Or are they thinking we are just poor deluded fools?'
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Captured by the drow! You wouldn’t wish this fate upon anyone, yet here you are — locked in a dark cave, the cold, heavy weight of metal tight around your throat and wrists. You are not alone. Other prisoners are trapped in here with you, in an underground outpost far from the light of the sun. Your captors include a cruel drow priestess who calls herself Mistress Ilvara of House Mizzrym. Over the past several days, you’ve met her several times, robed in silken garments and flanked by two male drow, one of whom has a mass of scars along one side of his face and neck. Mistress Ilvara likes to impress her will with scourge in hand and remind you that your life now belongs to her. “Accept your fate, learn to obey, and you may survive.” Her words echo in your memory, even as you plot your escape.
(OOC:)
When introducing your character please roll a d10 and a d20, list them separately.
Even as she plots her escape, Khessa continues to play the role of the broken slave, the one who 'accepted her fate' and who has every intention of 'learn to obey'.
Though tall and imposing, the woman keeps her shoulders hunched. Her blue eyes mostly look at the ground (although they try not to miss anything they can catch, little by little, with occasional furtive glances). Her long, curly blonde hair, given her bent and submissive posture, often falls on her face, partially hiding her beautiful features.
'I already fooled them once' she is thinking, with angry determination, in the secret of her mind. 'I'll do it again. As I escaped the first time, when they kidnapped me and my family, so I will flee again. I was rash, to go back to the Underdark alone to look for them... But I will treasure this mistake. I'll come out of it. I must'.
'Drow are cruel and merciless' she remembers from her past experience. 'But they are also arrogant. Again I will convince them that they have broken my spirit. I'll let them let their guard down. Then I'll show them how wrong they were. Strut yourself with your whip, Mistress Ilvara... I will reserve you soon the same attention that Mistress Xen'faria has already received. So the both of you will have something in common to speak about, when you find yourself keeping company in the presence of Lolth, that vermin who convinced you to be a goddess!'
The d10 roll: 2
The d20 roll: 7
Katryl sits on the floor with her knees drawn up beneath her chin. Rather difficult to see in the dark, the orange-red streaks in her dark grey hair seemed to writhe about despite any sign of a breeze. The first days had been hard, as her defiance had been strong and clear when the priestess confronted her. She did a bit better the last few days, but hiding her fury was not an easy thing to do. How was she to take the glow from her eyes when angered? But really, her true rage was directed towards herself. How could she have let herself be caught?
In the darkness she looks about, trying to make out the others. But it isn't much use. She knew that she would likely be hard to pick out in the dark, her ashy grey skin more likely to blend into the darkness than be seen. Only her hair streaks and bright brownish-orange eyes might give her away. Eyes that seemed sometimes to glow from within, as they perhaps were now, reflecting her pent-up anger. A flame - that would illuminate things! But she hadn't dared try anything like that thus far.
(d10: 3)
(d20: 7)
Rabbit Sebrica | Skarai | Katryl Brightfury | Lokilia Vaelphin | Sabina Featherwound | Liivi Orav | Vanizi | Dirtbrain | Elielle Hillwind | Britari/Halila Talgeta/Jesa Gumovi
(OOC: just a question: in the 'dark cave' where we are imprisoned, there is (or is brought sometimes, maybe during the mistress' visits...) a source of light? Or this captivity is like perpetual blindness for those who lack darkvision?)
1d10: 1
1d20: 3
Ebzer Bonebreak had not always been full of rage. Once, long ago, he had been the eldest son of the clan smith, learning the secrets of the forge in his home, deep in the Underdark. But then, the Drow came. Dark elves with their dark magic and their spider-goddess. Of course, his father and others had fought, bravely, ferociously, but in the end they were no match for the cunning and eldritch might of Lolth's disciples. Ebzer, wounded and bleeding, was dragged away from the battlefield by his mother, and sealed up in a tunnel for protection. When he recovered, it took him three days to dig his way out. By then, the village was razed, and everyone either carried off captive or dead. He built a pyre of the fallen, and sang the sacred songs that would carry them to the afterlife in the Deep Realm. Then, he set out for revenge. Traveling alone, he learned to survive, and then to thrive in the black tunnels of the Underdark. He became a hunter, an ambusher of Drow stragglers, and with each kill his anger and savagery grew. But two weeks ago, when stalking a lone drow, he fell into an ambush himself.
He seethes as Ilvara makes her condescending visits, dark thoughts of her death filling his mind. He bides his time for now, but soon, very soon, the rage will be uncontainable, and blood will flow...
In the darkest corner of the cave sits a dark elf, a drow in capture of his own kind, and there is no mistake in the shame it brings him. He snarls quietly as Mistress Ilvara of house Mizzrym reminds him of his woeful fate. How could he have not noticed the plotting against him by his siblings? He would let the fury over this mistake be the fuel for his escape. There was likely not any going back to his home in Menzoberranzan though, not until he had the power and leverage to regain his former station in the house of Duskryn. The drow let out a soft sigh, his vanity making him try to keep up appearances with his exquisite attire, all in black with spiders web patterns, but for a dark green mantle with white fur linings. He would need help he realized, not only to escape but more importantly to survuve the horrors of the vast underdark until he could reach civilization where he could start to plot his revenge. With this thought he carefully studies the other prisoners, immediately noticing a blonde beautiful human and the ashen one with fire in her eyes. Would they survive the underdark? They certainly seemed to be from the sunblasted surface, possibly prisoners from a raid. He could only hope they would have the strength to survive the dangers that waited those who made it away from this wretched place.
(d10: 7 )
(d20: 17 )
Ebzer's eyes frequently wander to the drow in the corner. He restrains himself from attack only because he knows it would lessen his chances to escape. And escape he must, if he is to continue to exact revenge on the cult of Lolth and their minions. He wonders what depths a dark elf could possibly sink to, to be imprisoned by his own kind. Were there any atrocities that were off-limits to the drow? Or maybe he had rebelled against the priestesses? No matter, he thought to himself grimly. There is no such thing as a sympathetic drow. None can be permitted to live.
The drow in the corner notices the duergar glaring at him, making him relieved the deep dwarf was chained to the wall as his mad eyes revealed that he didn't realize anyone in this prison would be his ally and not is enemy. Hopefully there were others more sensible who could see they were all in this together and had to look past old and mostly forgotten slights against the others race. Traydark knew for a fact that the only dominant race in the underdark to rival the drow in cruelty was the duergar themselves, although admittedly the drow were far more refined in their torture of the lesser races. Still, being confined to a sheltered life of his own kind for hundreds of years already, the dark elf was now somewhat curious to find out more about these other races his peers always scoffed at in their palaces back in Menzoberranzan.
'That sparkle again... What was that?' Khessa thinks 'Ah, yes. I had already noticed this a few times before. The eyes of that girl with the ashy gray skin. I can practically see her only when this... thing happens to her! Who knows what creature she is? Although she has dark skin she is not a drow... Could she be a magical creature? Perhaps escaping together would be safer for me than escaping alone...'
Following this thought, the blonde warrior begins to consider other possible companions of escape: 'Could the dwarf be a precious ally too? Dwarves see well in the dark. Although this... this looks different than any other dwarf I've met. I don't even know how much I can trust him... but he must not like this place much more than I do, after all! And dwarves are tough guys. Yes, I should take him into consideration'.
'Too bad we have him in here too!' thinks the tall adventurer, who noticed during the short sparkle that the drow in her corner is looking at her again 'A drow prisoner of drow... Could it be their spy? But no, what am I thinking... We are not a threat to them. We are prisoners. It wouldn't make sense to put a spy here. But then why is he here!? Is he too cruel and perverse even for his own people? Or maybe... on the contrary... maybe he's here because he disagrees with them?'
Whenever she has thought of him, Khessa has always had mixed thoughts.
'Maybe,' she speculates for the umpteenth time 'I could talk to him and try to understand the truth. But I don't like to risk him understanding the truth about me... that I'm not thinking about obedience, but about rebellion and escape! If he were the wrong person, he wouldn't think twice about betraying me in hopes of winning the sympathy of our jailers! But on the other hand, escaping with a drow might have its advantages... he could easily help us fool any other drow we encounter! So... who knows? Should I take him into consideration also?'
"I might look like one of them, but I'm not, and they will make me suffer for it. The Queen of Spiders is not my goddess, but I don't intend to die here, and from the conviction in your eyes..." The drow suddenly says softly but firmly, looking in turn at the blonde human, the ashen woman and the glaring duergar. "...I can see you won't either. So I propose we find a truce between our different races until we reach safety. I can assure you having a drow in tow as you navigate the underdark for whatever destination you ultimately have will help you avoid much trouble, especially one that is used to negotiate deals and alliances in the spiders nest of Menzoberranzan." He finishes confidently with a polite smile.
Khessa was examining with interest one of the dim lanterns lit with phosphorescent fungi... and had just removed some of the phosphorescent substance from inside the lamp, hiding it on her own person (for those who, like her, cannot see in the dark, it could be vital to have something with them capable of shedding light!) as she hears the drow speaking.
The tall adventurer turns to the drow and her blue eyes stare at him.
'So... things are this way? Is he really closed here because he's a dissident? Is he really different from other drow?' thoughts flock to the blonde warrior's mind 'Can I trust him?'
"Oh, so you are imprisoned because Lolth is not your goddess?" the voice of Khessa assumes a sweet tone, while she, struggling with the chains on her wrists, puts a hand on the shoulder of the interlocutor, as if to comfort him "Tell me something more, how did it happen that you ended up here? What did you do?"
The blue eyed warrior looks into his eyes with empathy... but she tries at the same time to notice any hesitation or clues of lies or deception while she waits for the other's answer.
Silas was captured just a few days after he entered the Underdark. He'd come here to do the impossible: to bring laughter to the sunless lands. He had heard tales of the Underdark all his life; his father had been an explorer in it and loved to tell stories of strange creatures and thrilling adventures he'd found there. So, after finding his calling, he came to the Underdark to seek his fortune and to spread the good word of Tymora. Certainly the unfortunate residents here could use a little acquaintance with the little Lady Luck.
He is tall for his kind, but skinny, looking like he hasn't eaten enough in months. His eyes shine green in torchlight, when torches are used. His fur is dark and his skin is a bit scarred. This has not been an easy imprisonment for him. He has watched this group come together. At the moment, his only intent is escape. His goddess is luck, but he knows that she only helps those who help themselves (and sometimes others, as it suits her). With a softly mumbled prayer to Tymora, he looks over his fellow captives, trying to determine whom he can trust.
He overhears one of the drow, discussing plans to escape, with a human warrior. He attempts to draw nearer and listen without drawing attention to himself.
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
D10: 8
d20: 5
Tamryn - lvl 4 Wood Elf Rogue - Circle of Light Campaign || Drusilla - lvl 1 Half-Elf Ranger - Sleeping Gods || Grrzark - lvl 1 Goblin Barbarian - Danger at Darkshelf Quarry || DM - LTG - Curse of Strahd
Khessa is too focused on Traydark to notice Silas approaching... although she is willing to give the drow the benefit of the doubt, and eager to have allies to try to escape, she is all intent on studying his reactions...
Insight: 19
The dark elf flinches slightly as the blonde human unexepctedly puts her hand on his shoulder. He realized he had never been touched before by one not of his own kind. It felt odd at first but he had a whole range of new experiences to make in this disparate company. He glances quickly at the catman who is seemingly also interested in what he has to say, before returning his gaze to the blue hues of the blonde human. "You could say that. Suffice to say I have no favor with the spider queen, but I was never truly her servant anyway. I ended up here due to the conspiring and plotting nature of my kind and I am paying the price for that. If you feel hatred towards our captors, imagine the fury that resides in me. I can never go back so you can trust me with needing you, likely more even than you would need me." He says calmly but firmly, giving the blonde a slight smile, briefly putting his hand on hers, before glancing around at the other prisoners, trying to determine if anyone of them would not kill him given half a chance.
To Khessa, the drow's words seem sincere.
(OOC: Lol! With that roll, he probably would have seemed sincere to her even if he claimed to be an over-tanned angel, who got his ears elongated by an angry giant pulling them, pretending to be a drow for the sole purpose of coming to help them escape)
The blonde warrior, upon feeling the drow's hand seeking contact with hers, squeezes it, as if to sign an agreement: "A contest of 'hate towards our captors' between you and me would probably be hard fought... I'm sorry, sincerely, that the drow have taken away your freedom and position; practically your life, since you will not be able to return to the life you had before, from what you say..." and now in the blue eyes the empathy for that victim of the drow is blatant and unreserved "But for what it's worth, I'll tell you that they took all that and even more from me. They took even my family, kidnapped, in their hands, held captive I don't know where. Those who survived at least, since one of my brothers was killed instead. And the village where I was born and raised was wiped out of Faerûn's face. I reveal this to you, because yes, I want to try to trust you. You seem sincere... and even if I know you could lie, I could never leave you here with the doubt that you are really so like me in what you've been through. I want to try to trust you. And at the same time" she suddenly becomes very serious "I also want you to be able to imagine what I would do to you if I found out that you have cheated me... and you are instead a slaver or a Lolth worshipper like them".
"And what do you two thi..." begins to ask the blonde warrior, turning to Katryl and Ebzer; so she realizes that in the meantime Silas had practically come up behind her!
"...Or maybe what do you three think, I should say" she corrects herself. "To tell the truth, I've been thinking about escaping ever since they captured me. Do you feel like coming and trying an escape with us? You all seem like a resourceful lot... Together, we may have more possibilities. Or do you think" she raises an eyebrow "you'd like more the crash course in obedience that Mistress Ilvara has a great desire to give us with her scourge?"
Ebzer in the 4 days you've been held prisoner you've managed to scavenge a rusty iron bar that you might be able to use as a club!
Katryl in the 5 days you've been fortunate enough to find a cord of spider silk about 5 feet long!
Khessa in the 1 day you've been here you happened upon a stray gold coin!
Silas in the 8 days a spider about the size of a tarantula has befriended you!
Traydark in the 7 days you managed to secure a flawed carnelian gemstone, probably worth around 10gp!
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No matter how long you've been inprisoned, it has not been easy in the least. Your life has been a mix of attempting to rest on the cold hard floor of the cell, eating nothing but a thin mushroom both soup once a day, assuming none of the other prisoners took it from you first. There is nothing else in the cell besides a small grated hole in the middle for waste to run down, so you've held down whatever patch of hard rock you can. Your overseers have been everything from cruel to aloof, experiences you'd rather not have again if you possibly can.
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As alluded to, you are not the only ones in your cell, there are quite a few others...
Buppido is a very talkative and gregarious Derro
Derendil is a Quaggoth who claims to be a cursed elf prince
Eldeth is a shield dwarf from Guantlgrym with an unwavering hopeful attitude
Jimjar is a deep gnome who is always ready to make a wager, whether he can back it up or not
Ront is an orc with an attitude problem
Sarith has been blamed for the murder of some other drow, but holds his innocence
Shushar is a rare Kuo-toa with a mystic aura around him, always very zen about everything
Stool is a very friendly myconid sprout who only communicates through telepathic spores
Topsy/Turvy are a pair of deep gnomes (brother and sister), Topsy doing most of the talking and interpreting Turvy's mumbles
Khessa wonders to herself if some of the others may also be trustworthy enough to be included in the escape plan... but at the moment she focuses on Katryl, Ebzer and Silas, as they are the ones who were in close proximity when she and Traydark started talking.
'Will they agree to try? Or are they thinking we are just poor deluded fools?'