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.
As the above introduction explains, you find yourselves to be prisoners. You are all in a cell built from a natural cave with a locked iron grate securing all of you in from the rest of the outpost. There are sparingly placed lanterns containing phosphorescent fungi that are cultivated by your captors to keep the interior spaces dimly lit. All of the exterior spaces are dark.
All of you are bound by iron collars around your neck, your waist and your wrists. There are short lengths of chain linking the manacles on your wrist to the shackle around your waist. These chains allow you movement, but otherwise you are considered restrained. Your only options to escape these restraints is to break them (STR check), slip out of them (DEX check), pick the locks (need a tool) or destroy them (they have HP).
You are not alone. With you are 15 other prisoners of various races. Some of these races you've heard about, such as the three gnomish looking prisoners with dark skin, which you suspect are deep gnomes. Some are easily recognizable, such as the one drow in captivity with you, a dwarf and an orc. Others are alien: a walking talking fish, a small mushroom with feet, a small humanoid with greyish skin, proportions and features that don't fit any creature you've heard of before. There is also one large hairy beast that matches the goliath prisoner in stature. Those beasts are used by the drow as servants, yet there is one shackled in the prison cell with you.
You all have lost the concept of time since being dragged into the Underdark. The only way you think you can track days spent in captivity is by counting the inadequate meals of a thin mushroom soup provided to you. Valthana had the honor of being the first to arrive of the current troupe. A day later Eldeth Feldrun joined her company. Xilyra and Stool appeared the next day. Beegred, Buppido and Derendil were next. Surprisingly, Sarith the drow was deposited in the cell, beaten viciously by Mistress Ilvara. The next day, Ront and Tozer arrived, glaring daggers at each other, with Topsy and Turvy in tow. Jimjar joined everyone the day after that. The final prisoners were Delmae, Narstin and Shuushar. It has been two days since the last three arrived and nine days since Valthana first arrived. There has been an air of anticipation among the drow. There are too many prisoners in the cell, yet there doesn't appear to be any preparations being made to travel to your final destination: Menzoberanzan.
Even so, the drow maintain a routine. They separate you into thirds and keep one detail working a third of a day, at all times. Some of the time this labor includes necessary housekeeping tasks, such as preparing food, hauling water, cleaning dishes or clothes or emptying the clay chamber pots, the only items allowed in your cell. The rest of the time, the drow subject you to hard labor, pointlessly hauling rocks from one pile to another, coiling heavy strands of rope, operating the winch for the lift to the cavern floor below, or just physically beating you up for their pleasure.
As horrible as those work details are, occasionally individuals are brought before Mistress Ilvara so she can subjugate and indoctrinate them to the life of a drow slave. Mistress Ilvara enjoys this time very much, spending as much effort inflicting pain as teaching them their place and the etiquette they'll need in drow society. She varies her torture between beatings with a scourge, casting ray of sickness, lashing with a wicked 3 tentacled staff or resting while she has her lover beat them with fists and feet. Then she heals them up and repeats the process over and over until she is spent. If they can't stand and leave on their own, they are dragged off hearing the same mantra you have all grown to hate, “Accept your fate, learn to obey, and you may survive.”
When you have been released from the cell for your work details, you have learnt the basic lay of the outpost. The drow call it 'Velkynvelve'. The outpost is located high in a cavern, built 100 feet above the rocky floor. The outpost consists of a series of small caves in the cavern walls and four “hanging towers” — hollowed-out stalactites connected by walkways, stairs, and rope bridges. The rope bridges are narrow, have no railings and sway easily (difficult terrain for non-drow).
The towers are concealed by the thick webs of giant spiders stretched below them, so that only the lowermost parts of the stalactites are visible from the cavern floor. With the small amount of dim light used in the outpost shielded from the cavern floor below, one might walk the entire length of the cleft without becoming aware of the outpost overhead, hidden in the darkness above the range of torches and lanterns.
Three caves and two hanging towers surrounding a platform make up the main part of the outpost for the drow warriors. One of the hanging towers is a guard tower opposite the cave used to hold slaves. You pass through this tower each time you are sent on a work detail or to meet Mistress Ilvara. All of you have noticed there are several levels to this guard tower as evidenced by the rope ladder leading to an opening in the ceiling.
There is a natural waterfall that pours out of a fissure in the rocks at the ceiling of the cleft and forms a pool below. The roar from the waterfall creates a constant background noise, negating the cave's tendency to amplify and carry sounds.
(PC's have been placed outside of the prison cave purely to keep all the tokens, names and health bars from being all mixed up in one big mess. You are all inside that cell.)
During your time as prisoners, you have observed a hierarchy among the drow. All drow treat any non-drow race as inferior. Establishing conversations with them is usually futile as they see you as too far beneath them to bother speaking to. Among the drow, a large majority of the soldiers are subservient to five others that are recognizable by their studded armor and shields, instead of the chain armor the rest wear. All of these drow are subservient to the two priestesses, and one priestess is subservient to Mistress Ilvara, who is the other priestess. Of the five elevated drow, one appears to be Mistress Ilvara's lover and another, a scarred and maimed individual seems to have fallen out of favor and is scorned by the other two, yet is always near them.
You currently find yourselves all together in the prison cell. The current work detail outside includes Derendil (The large hairy beast), Turvy (Deep Gnome), Jimjar (Deep Gnome), Buppido (unknown race) and Shuushar (walking talking fish). You are all awake, waiting for what passes as a meal here among prisoners.
During one of the torture sessions, when Miss Larva's boy-toy was beating him down, Beegred told him, "I like big elves like you. When they fall, they make a lot of noise. And sometimes, they never get up." Needless to say, Beegred's unconscious body had to be dragged back to the cell after that session.
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM) Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy) DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Tall, muscular, and heavily scarred long before her capture and subsequent imprisonment in the underdark, the goliath Valthana sits against one wall, her knees bent, and her arms resting across her knees casually. Her head of short, white hair is back against the cold, damp stone, and her eyes are closed. Some of the other prisoners might think she's asleep. The few that have attempted to orbit her probably know better. She doesn't know why some of them have been drawn to her. Perhaps its her age. Perhaps they're hoping for comfort from a surrogate grandmother — not that she's probably old enough to be grandmother to any of them — but she looks older than her years. Perhaps its her stature. Especially against shorter races, her height is an advantage. Perhaps it's because she's been here the longest. Has it been eight days? Nine? She's losing count, and that scares her.
She opens her icy blue eyes and stares at the ceiling for a second before looking around the cell at her fellow prisoners. Dirty. Bloody. Defeated. How are we going to get out of this?
Xilyra lean against the wall to the cell and shank to the floor. Slender and lean, she had the grey skin of the drow, but her slightly pointed ears and blue eyes marked her as different. Half-drow. The guards and priestess seemed to particularly enjoy her beatings, but they hadn’t succeeded in breaking her yet. She watched and observed, content to wait for now. She would not live out the rest of her days in this place. I need a plan, and allies, she thought.
Narstin moves among the prisoners, his eternal optimism somehow still intact, despite the horrific circumstances in which he finds himself. Murmuring words of encouragement to each person he encounters, he stops to bind the wounds and do what he can to ease the discomfort of any who will accept his assistance. As he approaches Beegred, a look of concern comes into his eyes. “What did you say to them this time?” He asks?
As he approaches Beegred, a look of concern comes into his eyes. “What did you say to them this time?” He asks?
Beegred's voice is a bit thick, like his mouth is swollen. Small smile as he says:
"Angry makes careless. While that pretty-boy is hitting me, he won't be noticing what the rest of you are doing."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM) Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy) DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Thus far, Tozer hasn't uttered a word to anyone. While in the cell with the others, the red-haired dwarf sits in gloomy silence, often replaying in his mind the events that led to his capture. Humiliating. How could I have been so thick-headed?
When he isn't castigating himself, he is imagining what his first act of freedom might be. My hands around that filthy orc's neck. That's what it'll be.
Initially, Tozer bent his mind toward fashioning his own escape and leaving the others to fend for themselves. He now realizes, after watching his captors' routines, that his hope to be free is inextricably tied to working with the others who share his fate. Tozer has studied the iron that encircles his wrists and has halfheartedly tried his strength against them when no one else was watching. I wonder... If I were to descend into one of my black rages...could I free my hands?
Tozer then decides to break his days-long silence. Sitting near the goliath, he whispers to her, "Have you tested the bands 'round your wrists? Can you break 'em?"
(OOC question for the DM about the restraints: Can we test them now, but still pretend we are bound?
For instance, if Beegred is successful with his DEX check, could he slip them back on, and know for certain he could get them off in the future without needing a check roll? Or if he worked with Narstin for a STR roll to loosen his cuffs, could Narstin pretend to still be cuffed?
If the only choice is to break the bindings, in an obvious manner, then Beegred will for a later time to test them.)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM) Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy) DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Valthana looks past the gate towards the guard room, waiting for the drow guards to look away, then begins to test the manacles and the chains, drawing from her strength. Nine days of minimal food has left her reserves low and she makes an overly careful attempt which she ends prematurely when a guard happens to look her way. The attempt wasn't committed enough to tell if the chains could be broken this way.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
After watching the goliath unsuccessfully strain against her manacles, Tozer decides that it is time for him to attempt the same. He slowly turns his thoughts to the one thing that never fails to send him into a seething rage, and this time it is no different. Background noises suddenly cease and are replaced by the drum-like beating of his heart, and his vision narrows to a tunnel as he focuses the entirety of his rage and strength on one thing: the manacles that have been biting into his flesh for days and have prevented him from throttling those who have robbed him of his freedom...
Narstin smiles back and gives Beegred a nod as he does his best to bind the other's wounds.
"Hey doc, stout halflings are tougher than we let on."
While Narstin is binding his wounds, Beegred taps at Narstin's manacles. If Narstin is willing to do a STR check, Beegred will help him.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM) Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy) DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Eldeth watches the other prisoners from her corner of the prison. When Narstin comes near, she motions him over and whispers, "I be Eldeth Feldrun from Gauntlgrym. I be a scout that watched the Underdark passages below our great city for dangers. The Drow be very bold to come so close to Gauntlgrym to raid for slaves where I be captured. This worries me. I be needing to return and give warning!
I be not great with stone. The prison gate be looking very poorly crafted to me. If ye can figure out how to get it open, we can escape this outpost. Once away from here, I can forage for a small group. What say ye? Do ye think ye can examine the gate?"
Meanwhile the Orc paces back and forth in his corner of the prison. Seeing Eldeth whispering to Narstin and then scowling with evident hatred at Tozer, the Orc seems to overcome some sort of internal conflict and approaches the deep gnome. He crouches over her using his larger size to trap her in her seated position and speaks words to her. The exchange is short lived and the Orc pushes off the deep gnome dismissively, grinding her into the wall. As much as you would all think the deep gnome would be cowering from the abuse, the look she shoots the Orc hardly seems defeated. Frustrated, the Orc looks about again and then deciding, heads to Beegred who is prone and recovering from his beating. He speaks in broken common, trying to whisper but failing, "Those cursed dwarves plot. They escape, leave us, we fight, we die. You join Ront. We escape, they fight, they die. Take food from dwarves, get strong. I take food, get strong too. Then escape."
When Narstin passes near the little mushroom, it curls into itself, shying away. Narstin can't tell what the creature even is. It has no mouth, arms, hands… nothing to make it look humanoid other than two stumps that it walks with. This little one is a mystery.
Passing near the deep gnome, she makes two attempts to speak to him, in what appears to be two languages that Narstin does not understand. After failing to establish communication she motions for Narstin to keep doing his rounds, although she gives him a nod of respect as he does so.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Delmae paces in a small circle. She appears wild, beautiful, and scared. It’s hard for her to believe how much life has changed in two weeks. There’s an itch she cannot reach - the chain between her wrist and waist goes taught as she tries for it anyway. She winces in pain as the cuff digs in - wrists already raw and red. These few days have felt incredibly long. The labor, malnutrition, and abuse is starting to take its toll.
Observe closely and you see a small, raised lump under her blouse. It’s slightly bigger than a deck of playing cards and never in the same place twice. Sometimes you think it’s moving.
Without speaking, she watches as a dwarf struggles against his bonds. To herself, This is quite the rag-tag group of prisoners. I shouldn’t have left home and I *really* shouldn’t have sheltered in that cave. She looks past the dwarf to the guard station and doesn’t see movement. If I could just slip this one cuff…
Barely audible, she utters the necessary words. Buried in shadow, delicate and dirty fingers dance - she casts Guidance and touches her wrist beneath the binding. Facing away from the door, her hands kept hidden as best as possible, she attempts to slip free.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The pounding heat of Tozer's rage quickly subsides, and the dwarf then becomes aware of the sharp throbbing in his wrists. Looking down at the slightly misshapen manacles, he wonders if he's created enough space to maneuver his hands free...
Dexterity check: 6
"Riznakh dur kinath!" mutters Tozer, relying on one of his favorite bits of dwarvish profanity.
Delmae makes the attempt to cast a spell, and is alarmed when the expected results do not materialize. The manacles remain firmly affixed to her wrists. (yes, that includes your +2)
Tozer's wrist were already raw from chafing, but the attempt to break the chain caused the swelling to increase, which did not help with his attempt to slip the manacles off.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Cursed dwarves. Join Ront. Take food from dwarves.
The words of the orc could not have fallen on Tozer's ears at a worse time. After experiencing the frustration of two failed attempts to escape his manacles, Tozer could not endure hearing a sworn enemy of the Stormspar clan as he insulted dwarves and plotted to take their food. I could never again proudly stand before my clan if I allow this filth to continue talking.
Falling into another one of his black rages, Tozer, with full malice, approaches Ront and tries to knock every tooth out of the beast's mouth with his clenched fist.
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.
As the above introduction explains, you find yourselves to be prisoners. You are all in a cell built from a natural cave with a locked iron grate securing all of you in from the rest of the outpost. There are sparingly placed lanterns containing phosphorescent fungi that are cultivated by your captors to keep the interior spaces dimly lit. All of the exterior spaces are dark.
All of you are bound by iron collars around your neck, your waist and your wrists. There are short lengths of chain linking the manacles on your wrist to the shackle around your waist. These chains allow you movement, but otherwise you are considered restrained. Your only options to escape these restraints is to break them (STR check), slip out of them (DEX check), pick the locks (need a tool) or destroy them (they have HP).
You are not alone. With you are 15 other prisoners of various races. Some of these races you've heard about, such as the three gnomish looking prisoners with dark skin, which you suspect are deep gnomes. Some are easily recognizable, such as the one drow in captivity with you, a dwarf and an orc. Others are alien: a walking talking fish, a small mushroom with feet, a small humanoid with greyish skin, proportions and features that don't fit any creature you've heard of before. There is also one large hairy beast that matches the goliath prisoner in stature. Those beasts are used by the drow as servants, yet there is one shackled in the prison cell with you.
You all have lost the concept of time since being dragged into the Underdark. The only way you think you can track days spent in captivity is by counting the inadequate meals of a thin mushroom soup provided to you. Valthana had the honor of being the first to arrive of the current troupe. A day later Eldeth Feldrun joined her company. Xilyra and Stool appeared the next day. Beegred, Buppido and Derendil were next. Surprisingly, Sarith the drow was deposited in the cell, beaten viciously by Mistress Ilvara. The next day, Ront and Tozer arrived, glaring daggers at each other, with Topsy and Turvy in tow. Jimjar joined everyone the day after that. The final prisoners were Delmae, Narstin and Shuushar. It has been two days since the last three arrived and nine days since Valthana first arrived. There has been an air of anticipation among the drow. There are too many prisoners in the cell, yet there doesn't appear to be any preparations being made to travel to your final destination: Menzoberanzan.
Even so, the drow maintain a routine. They separate you into thirds and keep one detail working a third of a day, at all times. Some of the time this labor includes necessary housekeeping tasks, such as preparing food, hauling water, cleaning dishes or clothes or emptying the clay chamber pots, the only items allowed in your cell. The rest of the time, the drow subject you to hard labor, pointlessly hauling rocks from one pile to another, coiling heavy strands of rope, operating the winch for the lift to the cavern floor below, or just physically beating you up for their pleasure.
As horrible as those work details are, occasionally individuals are brought before Mistress Ilvara so she can subjugate and indoctrinate them to the life of a drow slave. Mistress Ilvara enjoys this time very much, spending as much effort inflicting pain as teaching them their place and the etiquette they'll need in drow society. She varies her torture between beatings with a scourge, casting ray of sickness, lashing with a wicked 3 tentacled staff or resting while she has her lover beat them with fists and feet. Then she heals them up and repeats the process over and over until she is spent. If they can't stand and leave on their own, they are dragged off hearing the same mantra you have all grown to hate, “Accept your fate, learn to obey, and you may survive.”
When you have been released from the cell for your work details, you have learnt the basic lay of the outpost. The drow call it 'Velkynvelve'. The outpost is located high in a cavern, built 100 feet above the rocky floor. The outpost consists of a series of small caves in the cavern walls and four “hanging towers” — hollowed-out stalactites connected by walkways, stairs, and rope bridges. The rope bridges are narrow, have no railings and sway easily (difficult terrain for non-drow).
The towers are concealed by the thick webs of giant spiders stretched below them, so that only the lowermost parts of the stalactites are visible from the cavern floor. With the small amount of dim light used in the outpost shielded from the cavern floor below, one might walk the entire length of the cleft without becoming aware of the outpost overhead, hidden in the darkness above the range of torches and lanterns.
Three caves and two hanging towers surrounding a platform make up the main part of the outpost for the drow warriors. One of the hanging towers is a guard tower opposite the cave used to hold slaves. You pass through this tower each time you are sent on a work detail or to meet Mistress Ilvara. All of you have noticed there are several levels to this guard tower as evidenced by the rope ladder leading to an opening in the ceiling.
There is a natural waterfall that pours out of a fissure in the rocks at the ceiling of the cleft and forms a pool below. The roar from the waterfall creates a constant background noise, negating the cave's tendency to amplify and carry sounds.
(PC's have been placed outside of the prison cave purely to keep all the tokens, names and health bars from being all mixed up in one big mess. You are all inside that cell.)
During your time as prisoners, you have observed a hierarchy among the drow. All drow treat any non-drow race as inferior. Establishing conversations with them is usually futile as they see you as too far beneath them to bother speaking to. Among the drow, a large majority of the soldiers are subservient to five others that are recognizable by their studded armor and shields, instead of the chain armor the rest wear. All of these drow are subservient to the two priestesses, and one priestess is subservient to Mistress Ilvara, who is the other priestess. Of the five elevated drow, one appears to be Mistress Ilvara's lover and another, a scarred and maimed individual seems to have fallen out of favor and is scorned by the other two, yet is always near them.
You currently find yourselves all together in the prison cell. The current work detail outside includes Derendil (The large hairy beast), Turvy (Deep Gnome), Jimjar (Deep Gnome), Buppido (unknown race) and Shuushar (walking talking fish). You are all awake, waiting for what passes as a meal here among prisoners.
During one of the torture sessions, when Miss Larva's boy-toy was beating him down, Beegred told him, "I like big elves like you. When they fall, they make a lot of noise. And sometimes, they never get up." Needless to say, Beegred's unconscious body had to be dragged back to the cell after that session.
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec
Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM)
Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Tall, muscular, and heavily scarred long before her capture and subsequent imprisonment in the underdark, the goliath Valthana sits against one wall, her knees bent, and her arms resting across her knees casually. Her head of short, white hair is back against the cold, damp stone, and her eyes are closed. Some of the other prisoners might think she's asleep. The few that have attempted to orbit her probably know better. She doesn't know why some of them have been drawn to her. Perhaps its her age. Perhaps they're hoping for comfort from a surrogate grandmother — not that she's probably old enough to be grandmother to any of them — but she looks older than her years. Perhaps its her stature. Especially against shorter races, her height is an advantage. Perhaps it's because she's been here the longest. Has it been eight days? Nine? She's losing count, and that scares her.
She opens her icy blue eyes and stares at the ceiling for a second before looking around the cell at her fellow prisoners. Dirty. Bloody. Defeated. How are we going to get out of this?
Xilyra lean against the wall to the cell and shank to the floor. Slender and lean, she had the grey skin of the drow, but her slightly pointed ears and blue eyes marked her as different. Half-drow. The guards and priestess seemed to particularly enjoy her beatings, but they hadn’t succeeded in breaking her yet. She watched and observed, content to wait for now. She would not live out the rest of her days in this place. I need a plan, and allies, she thought.
Narstin moves among the prisoners, his eternal optimism somehow still intact, despite the horrific circumstances in which he finds himself. Murmuring words of encouragement to each person he encounters, he stops to bind the wounds and do what he can to ease the discomfort of any who will accept his assistance. As he approaches Beegred, a look of concern comes into his eyes. “What did you say to them this time?” He asks?
Beegred's voice is a bit thick, like his mouth is swollen. Small smile as he says:
"Angry makes careless. While that pretty-boy is hitting me, he won't be noticing what the rest of you are doing."
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec
Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM)
Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Thus far, Tozer hasn't uttered a word to anyone. While in the cell with the others, the red-haired dwarf sits in gloomy silence, often replaying in his mind the events that led to his capture. Humiliating. How could I have been so thick-headed?
When he isn't castigating himself, he is imagining what his first act of freedom might be. My hands around that filthy orc's neck. That's what it'll be.
Initially, Tozer bent his mind toward fashioning his own escape and leaving the others to fend for themselves. He now realizes, after watching his captors' routines, that his hope to be free is inextricably tied to working with the others who share his fate. Tozer has studied the iron that encircles his wrists and has halfheartedly tried his strength against them when no one else was watching. I wonder... If I were to descend into one of my black rages...could I free my hands?
Tozer then decides to break his days-long silence. Sitting near the goliath, he whispers to her, "Have you tested the bands 'round your wrists? Can you break 'em?"
Narstin smiles back and gives Beegred a nod as he does his best to bind the other's wounds.
(OOC question for the DM about the restraints: Can we test them now, but still pretend we are bound?
For instance, if Beegred is successful with his DEX check, could he slip them back on, and know for certain he could get them off in the future without needing a check roll? Or if he worked with Narstin for a STR roll to loosen his cuffs, could Narstin pretend to still be cuffed?
If the only choice is to break the bindings, in an obvious manner, then Beegred will for a later time to test them.)
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec
Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM)
Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Valthana looks down at the dwarf. "No —" she says slowly. She looks at the manacles as she twists her wrists. She then looks at the barred door.
OOC: If no guard is looking, STR check: 5
Valthana looks past the gate towards the guard room, waiting for the drow guards to look away, then begins to test the manacles and the chains, drawing from her strength. Nine days of minimal food has left her reserves low and she makes an overly careful attempt which she ends prematurely when a guard happens to look her way. The attempt wasn't committed enough to tell if the chains could be broken this way.
After watching the goliath unsuccessfully strain against her manacles, Tozer decides that it is time for him to attempt the same. He slowly turns his thoughts to the one thing that never fails to send him into a seething rage, and this time it is no different. Background noises suddenly cease and are replaced by the drum-like beating of his heart, and his vision narrows to a tunnel as he focuses the entirety of his rage and strength on one thing: the manacles that have been biting into his flesh for days and have prevented him from throttling those who have robbed him of his freedom...
Seeing others attempting to remove there manacles she looks down at her own. She attempts to slip out of the manacles, without trying to break them.
Dexterity check: 8
"Hey doc, stout halflings are tougher than we let on."
While Narstin is binding his wounds, Beegred taps at Narstin's manacles. If Narstin is willing to do a STR check, Beegred will help him.
Beegred Thornpost - Lvl 8 Halfling Ranger - Out of the Abyss by Kerrec
Drusk - Lvl 8 Half-Orc Life Cleric - The Long Road: Dragon Heist by Mingofaust (player & current DM)
Hunferho Aelorothi - Lvl 5 Half-Elf Bard/Rogue - Baldur's Gate: Descent Into Avernus (by Pokepaladdy)
DM - Frontier City of Nunkreet (ended)
Tozer and Xilyra both fail to free themselves from their chains and manacles. However Tozer's chains definitely look deformed.
Eldeth watches the other prisoners from her corner of the prison. When Narstin comes near, she motions him over and whispers, "I be Eldeth Feldrun from Gauntlgrym. I be a scout that watched the Underdark passages below our great city for dangers. The Drow be very bold to come so close to Gauntlgrym to raid for slaves where I be captured. This worries me. I be needing to return and give warning!
I be not great with stone. The prison gate be looking very poorly crafted to me. If ye can figure out how to get it open, we can escape this outpost. Once away from here, I can forage for a small group. What say ye? Do ye think ye can examine the gate?"
Meanwhile the Orc paces back and forth in his corner of the prison. Seeing Eldeth whispering to Narstin and then scowling with evident hatred at Tozer, the Orc seems to overcome some sort of internal conflict and approaches the deep gnome. He crouches over her using his larger size to trap her in her seated position and speaks words to her. The exchange is short lived and the Orc pushes off the deep gnome dismissively, grinding her into the wall. As much as you would all think the deep gnome would be cowering from the abuse, the look she shoots the Orc hardly seems defeated. Frustrated, the Orc looks about again and then deciding, heads to Beegred who is prone and recovering from his beating. He speaks in broken common, trying to whisper but failing, "Those cursed dwarves plot. They escape, leave us, we fight, we die. You join Ront. We escape, they fight, they die. Take food from dwarves, get strong. I take food, get strong too. Then escape."
When Narstin passes near the little mushroom, it curls into itself, shying away. Narstin can't tell what the creature even is. It has no mouth, arms, hands… nothing to make it look humanoid other than two stumps that it walks with. This little one is a mystery.
Passing near the deep gnome, she makes two attempts to speak to him, in what appears to be two languages that Narstin does not understand. After failing to establish communication she motions for Narstin to keep doing his rounds, although she gives him a nod of respect as he does so.
Delmae paces in a small circle. She appears wild, beautiful, and scared. It’s hard for her to believe how much life has changed in two weeks. There’s an itch she cannot reach - the chain between her wrist and waist goes taught as she tries for it anyway. She winces in pain as the cuff digs in - wrists already raw and red. These few days have felt incredibly long. The labor, malnutrition, and abuse is starting to take its toll.
Observe closely and you see a small, raised lump under her blouse. It’s slightly bigger than a deck of playing cards and never in the same place twice. Sometimes you think it’s moving.
Without speaking, she watches as a dwarf struggles against his bonds. To herself, This is quite the rag-tag group of prisoners. I shouldn’t have left home and I *really* shouldn’t have sheltered in that cave. She looks past the dwarf to the guard station and doesn’t see movement. If I could just slip this one cuff…
Barely audible, she utters the necessary words. Buried in shadow, delicate and dirty fingers dance - she casts Guidance and touches her wrist beneath the binding. Facing away from the door, her hands kept hidden as best as possible, she attempts to slip free.
DEX Check: 1
Guidance: 2
The pounding heat of Tozer's rage quickly subsides, and the dwarf then becomes aware of the sharp throbbing in his wrists. Looking down at the slightly misshapen manacles, he wonders if he's created enough space to maneuver his hands free...
"Riznakh dur kinath!" mutters Tozer, relying on one of his favorite bits of dwarvish profanity.
Delmae makes the attempt to cast a spell, and is alarmed when the expected results do not materialize. The manacles remain firmly affixed to her wrists. (yes, that includes your +2)
Tozer's wrist were already raw from chafing, but the attempt to break the chain caused the swelling to increase, which did not help with his attempt to slip the manacles off.
Cursed dwarves. Join Ront. Take food from dwarves.
The words of the orc could not have fallen on Tozer's ears at a worse time. After experiencing the frustration of two failed attempts to escape his manacles, Tozer could not endure hearing a sworn enemy of the Stormspar clan as he insulted dwarves and plotted to take their food. I could never again proudly stand before my clan if I allow this filth to continue talking.
Falling into another one of his black rages, Tozer, with full malice, approaches Ront and tries to knock every tooth out of the beast's mouth with his clenched fist.