The Underdark is a subterranean wonderland, a vast and twisted labyrinth where fear reigns. It is the home of horrific monsters that have never seen the light of day. It is here that the dark elf Gromph Baenre, Archmage of Menzoberranzan, casts a foul spell meant to ignite a magical energy that suffuses the Underdark and tears open portals to the demonic Abyss. What steps through surprises even him, and from that moment on, the insanity that pervades the Underdark escalates and threatens to shake the Forgotten Realms to its foundations. Stop the madness before it consumes you!
ONE IS THE NUMBER OF LIFE AND DEATH, ONE DARK STAR IN AN ENDLESS SPIRAL, IT IS THE BEGINNING, DESTINY, FATE, AND END OF MAN'S BODY AND SOUL.
FOUR ARE THE DIRECTIONS FROM WHICH THE WIND CARRIES THE DUST. FOUR IS THE NUMBER OF ELEMENTS FROM WHICH WE ARE SPAWNED, AND TO WHICH WE WILL RETURN TO AT THE END OF DAYS.
FOUR IS THE ORIGINAL NUMBER, THE NUMBER OF THE KIN: FATHER, MOTHER, SON, AND DAUGHTER. IT IS THE NUMBER OF THE SEASONS, OF MAN AND TORIL, FOUR FOLD ARE THE SIDES OF THE SOLAR CROSS.
IT IS THE NUMBER OF THE RIVERS UPON WHICH LIFE DRAWS. UMBRA - HE DID NOT CREATE IT AS A WASTELAND BUT AS A HOMESTEAD. SONS AND DAUGHTERS IT RAISED AND EXALTED. DEAF TO ITS COMMANDS, THEY WENT THEIR WAY.
BUT THERE IS ONE MASTER OF IMMORTALITY, DEEP AMONG THE STARS. BIDING ITS TIME IN ITS CORE, IT WILL WAKE WITH TRUE INTENTION TO RENEW THE UNIVERSE, AND IN ITS GALACTIC SHADOWS..TRUTH WILL THRIVE.
When I was a very small child, I remember many things, but one thing in my life was always constant - I had a small talking stuffed animal. I've always had it. Always. I don't remember where I got it from, or who gave it to me. Those details are lost to a time too far back from my collective memory. My earliest memory includes this stuffed animal speaking to me. I'm not saying it was alive, or that it's mouth moved when it spoke to me. In fact, it never moved. It spoke to me in my mind but always remained a simple stuffed animal. But it was anything but simple. It told me things. When I was little, it sang to me, it kept me company, it told me loving words and was my friend. When I grew older, and other drow teased me, and pushed me around - made fun of me for the House I belonged in - I grew angry, and my stuffed animal..taught me things. Things the Queen of Spiders would not fine acceptable. Things that get you kicked out of your House. The stuffed animal always knew what to say to make me happy, or to calm me down when I was upset, or filled with tears.
As a child, it was like a parent. As a teenager, it was like a friend. As a young woman, it was my mentor. That was the day it told me it's name.
The sound of the waves, the flames, the burning. It was all still clear in her brain. As clear as the day it all happened. And despite her young age at the time, she remembers it vividly. Even more vividly was the prick in the back of her skull. The burning on the small of her back. The voice, deep and mysterious. "Congrats weak child. You are the only one left. A worthy vessel of my power." The deal she made that day changed everything. The deal of a silly child. A young girl filled with curiosity and the want to survive. If given the choice again, would she have considered her options more? Taken death instead?
"Ashryn? Ashryn! Are you even listening to me?" Almost instinctively, Ash perks her head back up, having been lost in thought. "Ah! Yes Yama? Sorry." The much older dwarven woman glances up from her table. "As I was saying. Tonight was the last with many more to come in the future. With that said... No. You cannot go."
Ash frowns at this answer of her previous question. "But Yama. If I may... I think it would be a good experience for me. I'm older now. I am not longer a child." Yama's amusement did little to aid in Ash's hope. "You have no need to be around that fray. They are family yes, but mischievous nonetheless. You have no need for their childish parties." As Ash moves to argue, Yama raises her hand calmly and stands from her table. "That is my final decision. I am going to retire. You should too." The dwarven woman stands and retires through the curtain like door of their larger tent.
After some long contemplation that evening, Ash would sneak out of the tent, disobeying Yama, and follow the sound of distant music to the party she had been longing to go to. All the while, the same stubborn thoughts flowed through her.
I am no longer a child. My decisions were my own. I love Yama. She was the woman who saved me after I was left with no one. The one who taught me everything I knows. But I deserve this. One night. One night where I can do what 'I' want. Not what others want. Not what I was trained to do.
What YOU want.
The sound of voices, laughter, and music cloud her ears. Drinks would be passed around, men and women alike would be flirted with, and everything would inevitably blend together as one foggy memory. Thinking back to it, it is still all a blur. The only thing that is entirely apparent to her now is how much she drank that night. If that wasn't apparent by her piercing headache caused by a hangover. Now... Where was she?
It was the silence that bothered Phineas the most. Well, the silence and the stillness. Leaning against the wall, staring up at the ceiling, the little gnome could literally feel the minutes, the seconds, all the time just being wasted, slipping away without purpose, without use…wasted. Again he sighed, a little more audible than intended.
“You’d do well to remain quiet, little one,” a stern voice to his left chided.
Phineas didn’t have to look to hear the disappointment mixed with anger coming from the haughty half-elf. Tolivar never liked Phineas and his disappointment didn’t really matter to the young gnome. It was the silence beyond the door that concerned him more. Yelling. Hushed voices in whispered debates. Diatribes of disappointment. All those he could handle. All those meant a well-thought decision was being made. Silence…Silence meant a decision had long ago already been made. And that concerned him. Another sigh, again audible, draws a stern cough from the left.
Then the silence was broken.
As he turned to watch the door open, Phineas didn’t need to hear words. He could read the looks. He could see the tears streaming down his parents cheeks. He flushed in shame at the grim look on the High Druid’s face.
It was a look that seared into his memory forever.
*******
The crack of a branch below brought the gnome back from his thoughts. The din of insects buzzing and the light mist of the rain reminding him to stay alert. Looking down from his perch on the oak tree branches, he could see the figures moving below.
“Goblins,” he thought to himself, a smile playing across his face. “That means I’m on the right track.”
As the scouting party of the foul beasts moved from below his perch, he noiselessly drops to the ground a moment later. Without a hint of caution or concern, he quickly follows their path, shadowing their progress, as the mist becomes a downpour and lightning lights up the skies. He knows where they are headed. He knows what he can find there. This is it!
Ruins was all he knew since his childhood. And the stories of what it was like before the city exploded and fell into the chasm in 1372 DR.
Little has changed.
But his family was thriving. Through power, schemes, proper manipulations and the Jaezred Chaulssin; they thrive. House Arken'ar grew back into power with spies, assassins, magic and trade. Ree'lyn had to find his niche and prove himself worth it somewhere into those options.
"Are you having the visions again Faer ykrel?" - his father would ask most of the times they had to study the arcane arts. 'Faer ykrel'; magic spark.
Long ago Ree'lyn himself had first thought of these episodes as hallucinations; seeing and sensing flora and fauna never found in the Underdark. Verdant, shinny and cacophonous like he had never known in his life. A place he wants to find, and the seductive voice and presence that accompanies him ever since he wants to meet. His father was curios about that. Maybe that is why his son was interesting to him. As for his sister; she seemed to really care. The only one of his five siblings with whom he shared both, mother and father. No one else knew about his visions. His father said it had it had to do with the very day Ched Nasad was destroyed. The noble House survived for being partially inside the walls of the chasm.
"Are you sure it has nothing to do with the demons? There were many of them that day." His sister had asked one day.
"It is not." The serenity in the voice of the powerful mage who knew what something was not; although not quite sure of what it was. "The signs would have been different." It was not the first time they had had that conversation. Growing up to become a scout, Ree'lyn had learned to be in touch with that arcane power that had been bestowed upon him. His sister tried to use her own influence as a ranked priestess to make him become a patrol leader, but he had earned that by himself. That was what he was now.
"The matron mother is happy that you have turned your childhood scavenger gang into a profitable scouting and trade agents." - that was the closest to a praise he would ever get from his sister. Some successful trade connections along the years turned him into a valuable asset to his family.
"A route for the caravan to explore has been set. You are going with them to take notes and provide a reliable chart for the area. There may be minerals and other resources in there to be taken." - his sister said in their last conversation. Sometimes she even seemed to care for him.
"Lay low if you can." - his father said and his sister chuckled at that. "Keep your patron and whatever happens to yourself."
"Our allies at Jaezred Chaulssin are also interested in the outcome of this caravan. You will offer them what they want and they will give us what we want. As usual." - after a brief pause, she seemed to have read his mind - "And Ree'lyn, do not try to drag your assassin friend into this. She is one of them. Leave it at that. They much likely will have their own agent in this matter, but do not try to push it onto her."
"Do let me know of any changes in your arcane powers. I want to keep track of how they develop. And how suggestive this entity is going to get." - his father, ever the House Wizard.
Except his travels took him to a wrong turn in the Underdark, alongside the unfortunate caravan, which came across other Drow that care nothing for his noble origins or his allies in Ched Nasad; nor the consequences of their insolence.
ONE IS THE NUMBER OF THE CREATOR WHO DESCENDS FROM A STAR ABOVE MANKIND WILL WONDER, ITS NAME UNINSCRIBED INTO THE BOOK OF LIFE SINCE THE WORLD BEGAN AS IT LOOKS UP TO IT, WHO IS AND IS NOT OF THE INFINITE, OF IT WHO COMES AND GOES, WITH IT WHOM EVERYTHING RISES AND WITH WHOM EVERYTHING WILL FALL.
The universe is dark, beautiful, and infinite. Far, far more infinite than anyone can comprehend. When I was young I had an idea of how infinite I thought it was, but now I know.
I am a Drow. The Spider Queen, Lolth, is our goddess whom we revere. From the time I was old enough to understand, I was taught that we are superior to all other creatures, for we remain steadfast in our devotion to Lolth despite the hardships of our existence. Any creature that isn’t a drow is useful only as a sacrifice to Lolth, as a slave, or as fodder for the giant spiders that patrol our cities and tunnels. Our society lives by a social code: The strong shall rule the weak. Sure, there are many other codes and rules, but this one is what we're mostly all about. And, of course, the rites and rituals - sacrifices to the Goddess. The tests, the priestly Orders, the Houses. I know all about it - i've seen it all before. But growing up as a young Drow in House Vandree I was never prepared for when I was of age and Umbra showed me my first glimpses of the infinite. Living underground, looking up into the night sky was impossible save through magic. What I was shown changed my life forever. It sparked something in me, an innocent childlike wonder and curiosity I couldn't resist. That day I realized there was something greater out there. More powerful. Stuff that made Lolth look like a child. I was slowly spoon fed incredible insight into the nature of the universe and it's workings.
And other things, too. Umbra instructed me, and as I grew older the lessons became darker. I should have been afraid..but I wasn't. I wanted more.
I learned to twist shadow and darkness in a manner that scared my people. I tried by best to hide it from my society but I could not. The power and the things I could do came so easily - and I liked it. My family and my House eventually found out what I was doing - worshiping another God instead of our own. It was heresy. They tried to kill me but Umbra warned me, protected me, defended me..empowered me. In the back of my mind I could hear a cosmic, ancient horror laugh with pleasure. I slew in it's name, and I wanted more, but I would not find it in Menzoberranzan.
Ronnal life began like every Duergar, he was taught that the dwarven gods had abandoned them during their time as Illithid slaves; the gods Laduguer and Deep Duerra helped gain their freedom. Eventually, his family came into power and stayed in power for a few centuries. To keep the family in power the first born son of the Rockwell's was sent to the temple of Deep Duerra to be come a war priest. As a child he did not understand nor did he want to go. He instead wanted to be a blacksmith, when father learned of this he was furious. "No son of Rockwell will become a blacksmith! We are a clan of Warriors! WARRIORS!"
A few days later Ronnal was give a pack, a shield and a war hammer. He was to travel alone to the temple of Deep Duerra. It was a hellish trip but he finally got there. To his suprises it wasn't temple but a fortress. Ronnal was tasked with studying the historical schematics of Duergar fortresses, battle tactics and combat medicine. Ronnal would spend 60 years in the temple learning and training in the clerical arts of Duergar War.
With his training done, he set out to return back to his home. To his surprise while he was away his father had more children, a younger sister and a younger brother. He tried to get along with them but the time gap and Duergar culture they only saw Ronnal as threat to their political power. Ronnal had grown tired of all the political in fighting within his clan and decided he would be better off in another Duergar city. Taking his belongings he set out to find another city where can call home and amass his own fortunes and glory.
Journeying the underdark he came across a Duergar raiding party fighting the drow. Not wanting to let his brothers and sisters get captured as slaves again. He ran out joining in on the fight. The battle was fierce but with his clerical abilities he was able to save the party but the drow had reinforcements. "Go! Tell you clan heads, tell them the drow grow near. I shall hold them off and buy you time! FOR DEEP DUERRA!" Ronnal rushed forward buying enough time for his fellow Duergar to escape but ultimately he was out numbered and was captured.
Ive not always had such a pocket full of coin, no. I grew up in Waterdeep, with a longing for the sea.
I didn't even know what that meant at 14. I always seen the sailors coming back, arms full of things the found. I just knew i wanted that excitement. One night, i was over come with emotion, and wrote my mother a note saying how much i loved her, and that id be back one day as a different person, and a man. I made my way over to the docks and waited for the dock master to fall asleep, and made my way onto a large ship. I went below deck and found a nice spot to hide, and sleep till were out at sea. I was awoken by 3 large men, not to fond of what they found. I begged and begged for them not to throw me over, id do anything. At that point, the captain came in and eyed me down. She seen i had nothing of value, and not worth robbing, or holding me for a ransom. She also seen my pan flute. "You can stay on one condition, you must play for us when our spirits are low. You will clean, you will work."
And so i did.
We were at sea for 3 months, meeting with other ships, i didn't know at the time, but my captain had an alliance going on with a few others. One day it went really bad. There was a sea battle, i was told to hide, but my sense of adventure made me peak through the crack of the wood. That was my first glimpse of magic. The captain held her hand up and what looked like lightning streamed from it and struck an enemy, and he lay limp ending the fight. They all surrendered. "Only the strong survive, Quinn." The captain says as she kicked the crew from the other ship, bound and gagged, into the sea. I begged once more, this time to learn what she could do, for days. We made it back to port, and i thought that was the end of my adventuring. I was gathering up some supplies and the captain came to check on my work. Obviously I had not done well. "You're moving too slow boy. Let me show you how to do it." As she says this, a hand the size of a wagon wheel appeared and started moving the crates. I watched in awe, and she spoke again. "I can teach you some things. But you must stay as part of the crew, officially."
I couldn't contain my excitement. I was part of the crew, AND magic? I had agreed before i even noticed the words coming out. Through lessons, and months, and nearly a year, i had learned to cast some spells myself. I kept up the spirits and a clean deck. I truly put in the effort to stay. I had stayed part of the crew until i was 20, spending the last 6 years as part of the crew. I did what i was told, and maybe done a few things i regret. I didn't like stealing. And i come to realize that i was indeed a pirate, not just a sailor. I couldn't sleep for weeks it felt like. "Time to move on" i thought to myself, and decided the next time we made port, id leave. And port was made. We landed at Daggerford, just south of Waterdeep. I had my small bag of items and left just how i entered. I made sure to not be spotted by my old crew until i was well away from town, headed south down the trade path. I found yet another group, these folk earned their living as a trade outpost along the trail. I explained my story, and how i had no place to sleep, or really anything. They let me stay, as long as i put in the effort, yet again. One day ill go back to my mother, ill see home again.
SIXTEEN IS THE NUMBER OF THE STRANGER, THE NEWCOMER. SIXTEEN ARE IT'S REVELATIONS, 16 IS THE NUMBER OF IT'S HERALDS WHO WILL DEVASTATE THIS LAND.
EIGHT PLUS EIGHT IS THE NUMBER OF TWO CREATORS FIGHTING FOR DOMINION EIGHT PLUS EIGHT. TWO INFINITIES CONSUMING ETERNITY IN THEIR CONFLICT.
INSTINCT VERSUS INTELLECT, FLESH VERSUS SPIRIT, CHAOS VERSUS ORDER.
FOUR TIMES FOUR IS THE NUMBER THAT COMPLETES THE SOLAR CROSS WHEN ALL THINGS RETURN TO THEIR POINT OF ORIGIN AND THE CIRCLE CLOSES FOREVER, UPON WHICH TIME TERMINATES.
About a thousand years from now this world will be destroyed. The one night when a barrage of asteroids will make the entire planet tremble - it's crust will be instantly punctured, bursting open along the many points of impact. Toril will fracture, cracks will burst across the planet's surface. Giant clods the size of cities will shoot skyward. Great waves of magma will rise to consume the planet, turning entire cities into lifeless wastelands. The rest will be flattened by stone hail, tsunamis, and earthquakes that will follow. By daybreak, dense billowing clouds will fill with volcanic ash and red dust from craters will swallow the sky, bathing the land in bloody twilight. Our star's light will reduce to a distant marble glistening though the haze. Only the fires will stave off the darkness.The world will stink of death.
That day, society as we know it will crumble - civilization vaporized in a day. Mankind might live on, it might be the end. The old world will go, and nothing could ever bring back the good old days. These asteroids from Umbra had not brought the apocalypse, but it brought something that will be called "Eshaton". A new beginning, but in Umbra's vision.
Pain. Next to Faith and Fire, few others were an actual constant in Enkindle's life. Certainly little else could motivate her in what she long concluded to be a world filled with nothing but darkness, stone corridors, and worse. The clack and clank of metal on stone comes to a slow stop as the fire genasi slows to a stop after hours of movement. Though her motivators remained present, burning lungs demanded air, a lack of need in the moment was too sweet a thought. Enkindle soon found herself sliding backside first along a stone wall, breathing hard yet smiling a smile that bordered on hysteric.
She closes her eyes for a moment. But when they open again... she only has a second to realize the thing flying at her was a fist prior to have it smash into her nose, laying her flat on all too familiar stone. "Have you cooled down yet?" a somber voice above her asked. Though she says nothing in turn, after a long moment on the ground blinking away stars, the intense heat radiating atop her head dims until weight of her hair could be felt again. "I have tried to be patient with you. We've all tried and tried again. For years, Vonda... And so have you."
The underlying disappointment more than anything made her turn away, further obscuring her face from view. Father Salazar almost never let emotions get the better of him. And when they did, it was usually amusement over the impish nature of smaller acolytes, or minor offenses that usually led to more chores about the temple. So to hear the unspoken feeling and clear attempt at remaining impartial -- treating her like some criminal -- hurt her deeper than any physical injury, past or present. This was the man that raised her when no one else wanted her. When others thought her a demon, and would have long ago cast her out when a moments of passion got the better of Enkindle.
Next to Helm, few mattered as much to her.
Then, there came the hand at her shoulder. The balm that soon turned lead weights for the spirit as Father Salazar spoke began the recounting that would dog her every step. Until inevitably, no matter how much effort was put forth to contain her inner fire, her mission of atonement became one of survival upon chasing a query needlessly into the deep below....
As she finally rose her head to look upon the father to plead her case, blinking back steaming tears, the vision awaiting her resolves as the crushing reminder of stone. The smile slowly fades back into a tense mask. Mustering what strength remained, Enkindle clawed her way back to her feat, staring daggers down the path. "My watch is not over. Get. Going." She said breathlessly as she fought against gravity itself to stand upon her own two legs. Without a second more of hesitation, she put one foot after the other, deciding in the heat of the moment to turn the pain of bruises and possibly broken bones into a focus. When the first few bolts hit, the young woman hardly seemed to care or notice. Her mind had become numb to the pain, having walked for untold more hours without thought. A fifth hits jolting her forward a step more. Before darkness consumed her vision, her last sight for a time are red eyes drifting down from above, and wicked smiles.
The pitter-patter of rain outside her horse driven carriage slowly grew louder with every few feet they traveled causing Svana to look up from her book and take a gander out of the window. Dark burgundy hues saw nothing but dark grey skies, lit up occasionally by bright white flashes of lightning. Her brows furrowed at the weather, this being the third day it rained, but, in a way she was thankful for it. Although each day they grew close to their destination, the rain slowed them down considerably, having to stop at nearby inns to wait the storms out before going on the road again.
Svana felt the carriage slow down, the elf already leaning to listen to the driver speak.
“Milady,” He begins loud enough for her to hear him over the rain. “There should be a hostelry in a mile or so. Will you be okay with stopping?”
“That is quite alright, Hodgman.” She answers coolly. “No need to put you and the horses in danger.”
“And you as well, milady.” He chuckles in response, the sounds of him adjusting in his seat could be heard for a moment before he shouts a command to get the horses to pick up speed once more.
She leans back in her seat, her eyes drifting back to the stormy skies of Faerun as she listens intently to the rain fall while the memory of why she was there in the first place comes forth, as if it only happened a few hours ago.
There was endless chatter among her sisters as the day they had been waiting for since their birth had finally arrived; The choosing of their magic schools. They were all born in a family gifted in the arcane arts, and it was only natural that they all followed in their parents footsteps. Although they loved each other dearly, not one of them had decided to go to the same school as each girl found themselves proficient in different types of magic and when it came to gaining approval from their parents, none were denied.
Except for hers.
“W-what? No?” Svana looks up at her parents in disbelief and she could feel her heart sink to the ground. “B-but I’ve studied nothing but elemental magicks! I-I’ve excelled in it more so than my sisters! Why--”
“Because we have something we must discuss with you, dear.” Her father's powerful voice shakes her to her core, her mouth quickly sealing shut to let him speak. “You are aware of the feud that we are having with the Tashal’s, correct?” She finds herself only nodding in response. “Well, we have come to an agreement.” His voice lightens sightly, Svana looking up towards him once more. “All this fighting will be put to rest on one condition.” He pauses and stares at his youngest daughter in the eyes, a frown making way on his lips. “Rashim’s eldest son would like your hand in marriage.”
Svana’s mind was pulled away from the memory once she hears a particularly loud clap of thunder, shaking the carriage and spooking the horses outside.
“Hodgman, is everything alright out there?” She calls over the whinnying of the horses, her hands gripping tightly on the padding of her seat.
“A-ah, everything is okay, milady, just the horses got spooked is-- HRK!!!”
Panic shot throughout her body when she heard his strained yell, moving to quickly move aside the curtain to see if Hodgman was truly okay.
Yet when she tried to gaze through the small window, all she saw as red.
With another boom of thunder and a bright flash of lightning, the horses began their sprinting, not giving a care in the world where they were heading or what they were running over and within a few minutes, the carriage had toppled over when they hit and tripped over some rough terrain. Svana’s head bashed against the roof of the wagon her vision going blurry as she tried to focus on finding her spellbook before she got out.
Her heartbeat only picked up pace again when she heard the horses cries soon silenced by, what sounded like a sword, along with voices shouting at each other. She began to frantically locate her spellbook, wanting to at least defend herself before they opened up the caravan, but just as she located it, the door swung open. Before she even had a chance to react, they knocked her out cold.
The young elf ran up to her mother, grinning widely. "You're going tomorrow, right?"
Amara wrapped her daughter in a hug, maneuvering her left arm awkwardly to join the right in a circle around the young woman. "Yes. But don't worry, I'll come back." She planted a kiss on Kira's forehead. "With plenty of stories of the Underdark." She glanced at the other elf joining them, who had just caught up from behind her excitable daughter. "Not too late at night, though." She gave her wife a reassuring smile.
Laia nodded. "Of course. I'll see you in a couple weeks." The couple exchanged a loving kiss before Amara headed into the building behind her.
Some Hours Later
"-how I got this!" Varek replaced the journal written in Undercommon into his bag. "It's not pretty down there, but I think we should be fine. Quick raid, in and out right?"
Amara just smiled as the other chorused with a round of agreements and shouts. Despite her age, it was her first time on a raid. She glanced at her left arm, which hung more or less limp at her side. It'll be fine...she gave me a different way of fighting.She was opening her mouth to propose a toast when the first bolt ripped through a window and embedded itself in Varek's neck.
Varek was dead. So were Adelaide, Warras, Keren. Amara had seen at least four others fall to drow poison. The building was on fire, and Amara knew she wouldn't last much longer, backed into her corner where she managed to get off the occasional blast of golden light from behind a fallen beam. She just needed to make this raid was costly enough that they'd withdraw, instead of going on to the rest of the village. No other buildings were on fire, so hopefully they'd stayed away for now. She leaned around her beam to fire off another beam and took a bolt in the arm, letting out a grunt of pain as the agony in her left arm brought up memories of...last time. As she moved to duck back around the beam, she felt the poison take effect, slowing her mind. She was on the ground...when did that happen? The last thing she saw before blackness closed in was the face of a drow warrior, teeth bared in a grimace of hate and blade raised. Her last thought was of Laia...and Kira...
Collect refuse. Mold refuse into compact form. Move refuse into Disintegrator.
These were the only things that went through the mind of Disposal Unit K-3 as it worked in a Waterdhavian landfill day in and day out. It had no other thoughts but to complete this task to the best of its ability. It did not have any idea how long it had been performing this most menial of tasks. It had no need to, the trash was there on all times of the day, on every day of the year. All it needed to keep track of was when it needed to recharge. But its owners, the Lords of Waterdeep kept track of how long it had been in their service when they performed their annual reviews. Disposal Unit K-3 had been in the service of the city for 32 years. Disposal Unit K-3 was judged to be the most effective out of all of the Disposal Units in Waterdeep, in large part because of its massive build and single minded focus on its task. It was determined that Disposal Unit K-3 would be taken back to the plant where it was built, to be given a new directive; Maintain order in Waterdeep and defend the city against its enemies. While on the journey, Disposal Unit K-3 was to remain in stasis, waiting for reprogramming.
Perhaps if Disposal Unit K-3 was online, it would've done a better job fighting off the raiders who attacking the carriage it was on and it might have arrived at its intended destination.
At times the world may seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe that there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough, let me tell you a tale, Comrade.
There's no happy endings, not here and not now, this tale is all sorrows and woes, This is a story of a boy, born dumb, with no talent but fighting low-brow.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting? Does he love ale more than fighting?
A boy was once born, a flower of a great love, but now he’s alone, nothing but a mourning dove. Born of low talent, low IQ, and no happiness, deep into that darkness dimming, his childhood was one of sadness, and his soul was never brimming.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting? Does he love ale more than fighting?
He gets on with life as a barbarian, he's a stupid kinda chap. He likes breaking skulls on Sundays, he likes getting mad as crap. He likes to contemplate fighting, always ready to impale. But when he starts to daydream, his mind turns straight to ale.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting? Does he love ale more than fighting?
He likes to use words like 'duh,' he likes to use words like 'umm.' He likes to use words about fighting. But when he stops his talking, His mind turns straight to ale.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting? Does he love ale more than fighting?
He likes to hang out with Jezzika, his mind is like an empty pail, But when left alone, his mind turns straight to ale.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting? Does he love ale more than fighting?
He's not too fond of crying, his parents are both slain, But he just thinks back to ale, and he's happy once again.
Talike lay in her tent, staring blankly at the wall. She hadn't had a good night's rest for weeks. It wasn't the constant rainfall or the endless drone of wolves that kept her conscious. She had learned to ignore those. Something else held Talike back from the blissful release of sleep. She felt as if her mind was occupied by another consciousness; a voice that wanted her to do something. And although this voice was not particularly compelling, it was persistent. Talike was beginning to wear thin. But there were more important things to be done. She'd give in to the voice eventually, but that day would come later.
"Talike, what are you doing?"
Vala's urgent whispers shook Talike from her stupor. Vala gestured towards the brown form in the forest.
"We're out here for a reason," Vala continued "Are we going to get this over with or not?"
Talike nodded begrudgingly. Her mother had sent her on a hunting trip with her sister. The food reserves were running low again. Talike knocked an arrow and drew a bead on the deer. As she prepared to release her arrow, the voices returned, just as they had every day for the last two weeks. Talike had become used to resisting the voice. She did it every night if she wanted to sleep. However, 14 nights of this coupled with 24 hours of tromping through the forest left Talike feeling anything but strong-willed.
Just step back, and aim a little to the left, the voice urged. I'm sure Vala will know to move out of the way.
Although she had tried to resist, Talike felt herself following the voice's command and directing her bow at her sister. And just as Vala turned towards her, head cocked in confusion, Talike released her arrow. In an instant, Talike found herself standing over the body of her eldest sibling
Vala had to go, assured the voice. She might have tried to do thesame to you.
Talike had given in. Instead of cursing this voice's very existence, Talike began to admire it. It made her feel safe, it gave her a purpose. Talike savored the voice's commands, and performed them without hesitation. After days of being stretched thin, the string had finally snapped
Talike came to her senses around midnight. As her eyes swam in and out of focus, Talike found herself surrounded by the crumpled tents that had once formed her family's home. Blood and grime caked her hands, and even more oozed from the space between her shoulder blades. Scrapes and bruises were painted across her skin like a grotesque work of art. In a quick scan of her campground, Talike found nothing but a few tracks in the mud. They looked human. As she drew closer, Talike noticed small pools of blood on the ground, as if a wounded animal had tried escaping from its hunter. But Talike knew that this wasn't a wounded animal. Someone had taken her family.
After stumbling through the dark for what felt like hours, following every sign of human presence she could find, Talike reached a small cavern. Stepping inside, Talike was met with nothing but the echoes of the ragged breaths she struggled to draw. However, as she prepared to continue her search elsewhere, a faint noise caught her attention. Without even considering the possibility that what she had heard was nothing at all, Talike hurled herself deeper into the cave, prepared to see the free her family from their captors. She envisioned herself delivering swift justice to whoever had done this to them. Instead, Talike found the only family she had ever known dead in their own filth, surrounded by harshly scribbled symbols that were as strange as they were oddly familiar. Her mother had been stabbed repeatedly and was likely long departed before she was brought to this wretched cave. Vala, Talike's older sister, had been shot through the throat with one of her own arrows. Her brother was an even more sickening sight: he had been brutally disemboweled. As Talike tore her eyes away from the pile of corpses that now formed her family, she found herself face to face with a pair of onyx-skinned individuals. After sharing a brief exchange with their partner, the taller of the two raised a strange contraption and leveled it at Talike. A small arrow erupted from the end of the device and lodged itself firmly Talike's arm. Before she could return the favor to the offending creature, Talike collapsed into an unconscious heap.
Step Step Thud had not returned to the orphanage in many years. He saw that the stupid kids who had once fed him scraps from their tables had been replaced by far stupider kids. He remembered how elated he had been when he had been chosen to go to the monastery. He thought he would teach him how to fight and how to take more shinies.
He was a fool. They just wanted a menial laborer, someone that even the lowliest apprentice could order around with impunity, someone there to show the worst off that their lot could be worse. They taught him nothing besides how to mop the floors, clean their rags, and take a kick without fighting back. So he taught himself, cutting corners on his chores so that he could watch their master's lessons from the door, learning how to use a weapon to do violence and free himself.
Soon enough, he was caught, but those who caught him made a fatal mistake in underestimating how much he had learned. They had reasoned out that without practice, Step Step Thud couldn't have learned enough to overcome them in combat. Then, with their backs turned, both fell in an instant. Thus, he named himself for the sound of violence that both allowed and forced him to leave the monastery behind. From then on out, he lived his life on the streets, amassing a small hoard of shinies from those who had found themselves in back allies and those who were careless with their purses.
But now, he was about to hit the jackpot. A Drow caravan, returning to the Underdark after a night of raiding, would be an easy mark for one such as him. Their sentries would be exhausted and careless, believing all opposition to have been killed or taken. They would not be able to stop him from taking the things he wanted from their loot carts, several bags of shinies would be his.
"Seize him! Don't let him get away!" He turns, seeing several Drow coming for him. One grabs onto his leg to be swiftly met with a sharp blow from a club. "Back off, stupid bird! Don't touch your betters!"That one falls away, blood streaming from his broken nose, but two others take his place in the pursuit. Step Step Thud sights safety and success, if he can only hide in the forest until dawn, less than an hour away. Nearly to the edge of the treeline, a crossbow bolt takes him in the arm, but it wouldn't be... enough to slow... him... He collapses, only a few feet from his goal. The Drow that were pursuing him grab him by the arms, another prisoner to be taken in offering to Lolth.
Deep beneath the surface of the world lies the Underdark, a realm of endless labyrinthine tunnels and caverns where the sun never shines. The Underdark is filled with races and creatures too numerous to count or list, and foremost among these are the dark elves — the drow. Hated and feared even by their fellow dwellers in darkness, the drow raid other settlements in the Underdark as well as the surface world, taking prisoners back with them. Rendered unconscious with drow poison, then collared and shackled, these prisoners are eventually sold as slaves or entertainment in the dark elves’ subterranean cities.
PRISONERS!
We begin this adventure as prisoners of 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 called Velkynvelve. You all did not arrive at the same time. The drow have made numerous raids on the surface and collected most of you at different times. Your captors are led by a cruel drow priestess who calls herself Mistress Ilvaraof House Mizzrym. Over the past three 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 all 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. Eventually, you are all awaiting transportation to Menzoberranzan, the City of Spiders.
MAIN GOAL OF THIS CHAPTER
Escape the underground drow outpost of Velkynvelve by any means possible before the caravan to Menzoberranzan arrives in 4 days. Doing so will complete the chapter and move us along to Chapter 2. This chapter will be broken into four "chunks", one for each day, and a deadline to post will be given so everyone can read, post, and have time to not get left behind. I will give you things to do and interact with during each chunk. You are free to post as much as you'd like within each chunk, but the game will push forward at the deadline. If, for whatever reason, you fail to escape Velkynvelve by the fourth day, the campaign ends. Occasionally, I will post something like this to remind you guys where we are. For example:
CHAPTER: ONE / CHUNK ONE: "DAY ONE", DUE MONDAY @ MIDNIGHT / GOAL: ESCAPE VELKYNVELVE
FELLOW PRISONERS
Buppido - Male Derro. Buppido is surprisingly gregarious and talkative, demonstrating a keen mind and a disarming manner. Buppido yearns to return home to Gracklstugh. Jimjar - Male Deep Gnome. Jimjar is a feckless rogue with a devil-may-care attitude, a fondness for coin, and an obsession with betting on virtually anything and everything. He appears to have an unhealthy gambling obsession, and comes from a place called Blingdenstone, and aches to return. Stool - Stool is a myconid sprout. Stool appears lonely and frightened, wanting only to return to its home in Neverlight Grove. Shuushar - Male Kuo-toa. This aquatic hermit is a calm and peaceful presence. He claims to have spent a lifetime in contemplation and solitary meditation. He exudes an aura of enlightened balance. Shuushar is even calm and accepting of his current imprisonment. Shuushar speaks fondly of his home, Sloobludop. Eldeth - A female shield dwarf from Gauntlgrym. Good hearted and protective. Eldeth is stubborn and hates the drow very much. She is dangerously defiant towards them. Ront - Ront is a mean, stupid, and hateful male Orc, and especially hates Eldeth, as his tribe is at war with her people. Their animosity is clearly visible. Sarith - A male drow, is sullen and keeps to himself, mostly. He once said he is disgraced by his imprisonment but is resigned to his fate, since there doesn’t appear to be anything he can do about it.
THE DROW OFFICERS OF VELKYNVELVE
Ilvara - Female drow priestess of Lolth and Outpost Commander. Ilvara is a cruel mistress who enjoys taunting and tormenting enemies and underlings alike. She carries a rod with tentacles at the end, and is a very dangerous foe. She appears to be having a love affair with Shoor. Asha - Second in command, Asha is a female drow junior priestess of Lolth, and also very dangerous. Shoor - A male drow Elite warrior, Shoor is Ilvara’s lieutenant. He is relatively young and quite arrogant for a drow male, proud of his abilities and accomplishments. He is a skilled hunter and warrior, and a deadly adversary. He appears to be having a love affair with Ilvara. Jorlan - A male drow Elite warrior, Jorlan's once-handsome face is melted and scarred, and his sword hand twisted and missing two fingers. He has a knack for torture and is a powerful foe. Other enemies - The outpost contains 20 drow warriors, 10 quaggoths they use as slaves, and an unknown amount of giant spiders lingering around.
VELKYNVELVE
The drow outpost of Velkynvelve 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 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. Watch posts lie at either end of the outpost, near the northern and southern entrances to the cavern.
THE SLAVE PEN AND YOUR RESTRAINTS
Velkynvelve’s slave pen is closed with a heavy iron gate bolted into the stone. You all are each provided with clay chamber pots, and one of the duties you perform is emptying them into the pool during your labor shift. There are no other comforts in the slave pen. You must sit or lie on the stone floor, and are fed only once each day — a thin mushroom broth served in small clay bowls passed through gaps in the bars of the gate.
All of you wear iron slave collars along with manacles connected to iron belts by a short length of chain. This leaves you all restrained, but doesn’t affect your movement or speed. Moreover, spellcasting isn’t possible inside the slave pen because of its magical wards. Slipping out of manacles requires a successful DC 20 Dexterity check, while breaking them requires a successful DC 20 Strength check. Any of you can unlock the manacles using thieves’ tools with a successful DC 15 Dexterity check. The manacles have 15 hit points. The iron collars can be broken with a successful DC 20 Strength check. The collars have 12 hit points. Any of you who fails a check to break a collar, break a set of manacles, or escape from a set of manacles can’t attempt checks of that kind again until he or she finishes a long rest. A character can still use the Help action to aid another character, however.
THE ADVENTURE BEGINS
Our adventure begins now, about 3 days in as prisoners of the drow at Velkynvelve. Although you cannot tell, it is morning. Today is nothing special - another day as a prisoner in the Underdark. The beginning of our adventure marks the start of the first day of play out of four before the caravan arrives. (But the third day as prisoners.) You are all locked in AREA 11. The entire outpost is heavily guarded and you are being monitored at all times. YOU HAVE NO CLOTHING OR GEAR ON EXCEPT YOUR UNDERGARMENTS. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHERE YOUR POSSESSION ARE. CHAPTER: ONE / CHUNK ONE: "DAY ONE", DUE MONDAY @ MIDNIGHT / GOAL: ESCAPE VELKYNVELVE
1. ROLL: Each player please roll a d20 + d10 and post your result in your first post. This will determine, if anything, something you have on you that you've stolen from the Drow in the 3 days you've been here. I will let you know what it is.
2. INTERACT:Interact with each other and introduce yourselves. Since you have all arrived at different times and been here for a few days, it's time to get acquainted and plot a scheme to escape. You can talk among yourselves, the NPCs, or with the Drow. Since this a role-playing game, you are free to act and try anything you'd like. REMEMBER: YOUR ACTIONS AND WORDS WILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES THAT THE DROW WILL ACT UPON. KEEP THIS IN MIND. IF, FOR WHATEVER REASON, YOU DIE, YOU ARE OUT OF THE GAME.
3. LABOR: While you are prisoners, the drow will interact with you and make you all do menial labor. You will all be given your daily tasks during this chunk. You will be broken up into very small group supervised by the Quaggoths during your labor. They can include tasks like: COOKING DUTY, WATER BARRELS, LIFT OPERATION, QUAGGOTH PEN CLEANUP, DISH CLEANING, CHAMBER POT CLEANING, FISHING, CRATE REORGANIZATION, TRASH DISPOSAL, LAUNDRY, SUPPLY INVENTORY, SOMETHING ELSE.
4.SCHEME:You have four days to try and come up with a plan to escape. Today is day one.
Step Step Thud is a short Kenku with mussed, black feathers, the result of his recent encounter with the Drow. His beady eyes have a suspicious shine to them, as though he is calculating the best way to get shinies from those around him (which he is). Aside from the rags he wears, he has a bloodstained bandage wrapped around his left arm, the aftermath of a crossbow bolt.
He walks aimlessly around the slave pen, eventually coming to a stop near Ront. He speaks in a hushed whisper, one that sounds like that of a school teacher's, "Name? I am-" he makes a noise that sounds like someone moving quietly before the dull thud of wood meeting skull, "want to go outside? What have you found here?"
Jezzika Vandree, Drow runaway from House Vandree and worshiper of Umbra, used her thumb to draw strange symbols into the sand of the slave pen she had been in for two days.
New people were arriving today, and she looked up as the Drow Elites manhandled the newcomers into the pen. Lets see what we have here. Another drow. More humans. A bright red headed woman. A kenku, a genasi who appeared to be part living flame, a surface elf or two, even..a robot? It smelled like garbage. Ychh. The orc already in the pen, Ront, gave her a dirty look, and she shot one back as the dwarf, Eldreth, almost got up and barreled for the open slave pen door, trying to escape with the Drow Elites pointing crossbows at us, but I told her telepathically how big a mistake that would be. Thankfully, this time, she listened. I glanced over at the myconid, Stool, who was shivering in fear, and then looked at my clothes, or what was remaining of it.
Jezzika, shackled and stripped down to nothing but undergarments, had typical grey skin of the Drow, with straight, shoulder length white hair. Her eyes were ultra light purple and sparkled even in the darkness, as if inside her mind she had some otherworldly magic she was aching to share that was not allowed. House Vandree was responsible for weapon production among the other Houses in Menzoberranzan, so Jezzika received daily martial training during her youth and teenage years. Not as enormously muscular as Huey, she was graceful and slender, with sexy curves, a visibly toned body that was treated well and received regular exercise in addition to her knowledge of being able to handle a blade.
The clearly mentally challenged Half-Orc Barbarian that called himself "Baby Huey" kept looking at her, watching what she was doing, always sat next to her. It was like having a big, stupid older brother always around. But, the monstrosity did save her life right before they both had been captured by her people.
And only Lolth knows what will happen to them both. She remained quiet, looking at the floor, and plotted how she was going to get out of here and leave this accursed place.
Swiper no swiping: 4 + 2. So far, she had not been able to steal anything from the Drow during her two days of labor.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Pls: 2 + 6
Despite her knowing she had been here for, at most, three days, to Svana it felt like an eternity. This was not the lavish life she knew. There were no servants rushing to her with every beck and call, no three course meals that she was used to, no warmth or comfort. What she knew now was the cold dampness of the stone floor, and the cool press of the shackles weighing down her copper skinned wrists and neck. She was surrounded by people and creatures she knew little of (aside the dastardly drow who captured her) and felt powerless due to the antimagic field surrounded them. Those who were here before her knew when she first arrived she was all complaints and defiance, but by the second day, her spirit was seemingly broken, and she fell into silence, doing nothing but weaving her long burgundy hair into braids when they had their down time.
In her mind she was devising a plan of escape with the item she stole, but... Every possible idea she thought up was thwarted. Her dark red eyes scanned the other prisoners, stopping to watch the kenku creature speak to the second ugly half orc in the cage. When she deduced that she wouldn't be able to really hear the conversation, she brought up her knees to hug them as some sort of solace before she muttered under her breath,"This is hopeless."
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Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
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***PLACEHOLDER DO NOT POST***
*CRISPYDM PRESENTS*
OUT OF THE ABYSS - COMING SOON
The Underdark is a subterranean wonderland, a vast and twisted labyrinth where fear reigns. It is the home of horrific monsters that have never seen the light of day. It is here that the dark elf Gromph Baenre, Archmage of Menzoberranzan, casts a foul spell meant to ignite a magical energy that suffuses the Underdark and tears open portals to the demonic Abyss. What steps through surprises even him, and from that moment on, the insanity that pervades the Underdark escalates and threatens to shake the Forgotten Realms to its foundations. Stop the madness before it consumes you!
COMING SOON
***PLACEHOLDER DO NOT POST***
PROLOGUE ONE - JEZZIKA VANDREE
ONE IS THE NUMBER OF LIFE AND DEATH, ONE DARK STAR IN AN ENDLESS SPIRAL,
IT IS THE BEGINNING, DESTINY, FATE, AND END OF MAN'S BODY AND SOUL.
FOUR ARE THE DIRECTIONS FROM WHICH THE WIND CARRIES THE DUST.
FOUR IS THE NUMBER OF ELEMENTS FROM WHICH WE ARE SPAWNED,
AND TO WHICH WE WILL RETURN TO AT THE END OF DAYS.
FOUR IS THE ORIGINAL NUMBER, THE NUMBER OF THE KIN:
FATHER, MOTHER, SON, AND DAUGHTER. IT IS THE NUMBER OF THE SEASONS,
OF MAN AND TORIL, FOUR FOLD ARE THE SIDES OF THE SOLAR CROSS.
IT IS THE NUMBER OF THE RIVERS UPON WHICH LIFE DRAWS.
UMBRA - HE DID NOT CREATE IT AS A WASTELAND BUT AS A HOMESTEAD.
SONS AND DAUGHTERS IT RAISED AND EXALTED.
DEAF TO ITS COMMANDS, THEY WENT THEIR WAY.
BUT THERE IS ONE MASTER OF IMMORTALITY, DEEP AMONG THE STARS.
BIDING ITS TIME IN ITS CORE, IT WILL WAKE WITH TRUE INTENTION TO
RENEW THE UNIVERSE, AND IN ITS GALACTIC SHADOWS..TRUTH WILL THRIVE.
When I was a very small child, I remember many things, but one thing in my life was always constant - I had a small talking stuffed animal. I've always had it. Always. I don't remember where I got it from, or who gave it to me. Those details are lost to a time too far back from my collective memory. My earliest memory includes this stuffed animal speaking to me. I'm not saying it was alive, or that it's mouth moved when it spoke to me. In fact, it never moved. It spoke to me in my mind but always remained a simple stuffed animal. But it was anything but simple. It told me things. When I was little, it sang to me, it kept me company, it told me loving words and was my friend. When I grew older, and other drow teased me, and pushed me around - made fun of me for the House I belonged in - I grew angry, and my stuffed animal..taught me things. Things the Queen of Spiders would not fine acceptable. Things that get you kicked out of your House. The stuffed animal always knew what to say to make me happy, or to calm me down when I was upset, or filled with tears.
As a child, it was like a parent. As a teenager, it was like a friend. As a young woman, it was my mentor. That was the day it told me it's name.
Umbra.
PROLOGUE TWO - ASHRYN RAIRS
The sound of the waves, the flames, the burning. It was all still clear in her brain. As clear as the day it all happened. And despite her young age at the time, she remembers it vividly. Even more vividly was the prick in the back of her skull. The burning on the small of her back. The voice, deep and mysterious. "Congrats weak child. You are the only one left. A worthy vessel of my power." The deal she made that day changed everything. The deal of a silly child. A young girl filled with curiosity and the want to survive. If given the choice again, would she have considered her options more? Taken death instead?
"Ashryn? Ashryn! Are you even listening to me?" Almost instinctively, Ash perks her head back up, having been lost in thought. "Ah! Yes Yama? Sorry." The much older dwarven woman glances up from her table. "As I was saying. Tonight was the last with many more to come in the future. With that said... No. You cannot go."
Ash frowns at this answer of her previous question. "But Yama. If I may... I think it would be a good experience for me. I'm older now. I am not longer a child." Yama's amusement did little to aid in Ash's hope. "You have no need to be around that fray. They are family yes, but mischievous nonetheless. You have no need for their childish parties."
As Ash moves to argue, Yama raises her hand calmly and stands from her table. "That is my final decision. I am going to retire. You should too." The dwarven woman stands and retires through the curtain like door of their larger tent.
After some long contemplation that evening, Ash would sneak out of the tent, disobeying Yama, and follow the sound of distant music to the party she had been longing to go to. All the while, the same stubborn thoughts flowed through her.
I am no longer a child. My decisions were my own. I love Yama. She was the woman who saved me after I was left with no one. The one who taught me everything I knows. But I deserve this. One night. One night where I can do what 'I' want. Not what others want. Not what I was trained to do.
What YOU want.
The sound of voices, laughter, and music cloud her ears. Drinks would be passed around, men and women alike would be flirted with, and everything would inevitably blend together as one foggy memory. Thinking back to it, it is still all a blur. The only thing that is entirely apparent to her now is how much she drank that night. If that wasn't apparent by her piercing headache caused by a hangover. Now... Where was she?
PROLOGUE THREE - PHINEAS FAIRFINDER
It was the silence that bothered Phineas the most. Well, the silence and the stillness. Leaning against the wall, staring up at the ceiling, the little gnome could literally feel the minutes, the seconds, all the time just being wasted, slipping away without purpose, without use…wasted. Again he sighed, a little more audible than intended.
“You’d do well to remain quiet, little one,” a stern voice to his left chided.
Phineas didn’t have to look to hear the disappointment mixed with anger coming from the haughty half-elf. Tolivar never liked Phineas and his disappointment didn’t really matter to the young gnome. It was the silence beyond the door that concerned him more. Yelling. Hushed voices in whispered debates. Diatribes of disappointment. All those he could handle. All those meant a well-thought decision was being made. Silence…Silence meant a decision had long ago already been made. And that concerned him. Another sigh, again audible, draws a stern cough from the left.
Then the silence was broken.
As he turned to watch the door open, Phineas didn’t need to hear words. He could read the looks. He could see the tears streaming down his parents cheeks. He flushed in shame at the grim look on the High Druid’s face.
It was a look that seared into his memory forever.
*******
The crack of a branch below brought the gnome back from his thoughts. The din of insects buzzing and the light mist of the rain reminding him to stay alert. Looking down from his perch on the oak tree branches, he could see the figures moving below.
“Goblins,” he thought to himself, a smile playing across his face. “That means I’m on the right track.”
As the scouting party of the foul beasts moved from below his perch, he noiselessly drops to the ground a moment later. Without a hint of caution or concern, he quickly follows their path, shadowing their progress, as the mist becomes a downpour and lightning lights up the skies. He knows where they are headed. He knows what he can find there. This is it!
“This is going to be awesome!”
PROLOGUE FOUR - REE'LYN ARKEN'AR
Ruins was all he knew since his childhood. And the stories of what it was like before the city exploded and fell into the chasm in 1372 DR.
Little has changed.
But his family was thriving. Through power, schemes, proper manipulations and the Jaezred Chaulssin; they thrive. House Arken'ar grew back into power with spies, assassins, magic and trade. Ree'lyn had to find his niche and prove himself worth it somewhere into those options.
"Are you having the visions again Faer ykrel?" - his father would ask most of the times they had to study the arcane arts. 'Faer ykrel'; magic spark.
Long ago Ree'lyn himself had first thought of these episodes as hallucinations; seeing and sensing flora and fauna never found in the Underdark. Verdant, shinny and cacophonous like he had never known in his life. A place he wants to find, and the seductive voice and presence that accompanies him ever since he wants to meet. His father was curios about that. Maybe that is why his son was interesting to him. As for his sister; she seemed to really care. The only one of his five siblings with whom he shared both, mother and father. No one else knew about his visions. His father said it had it had to do with the very day Ched Nasad was destroyed. The noble House survived for being partially inside the walls of the chasm.
"Are you sure it has nothing to do with the demons? There were many of them that day." His sister had asked one day.
"It is not." The serenity in the voice of the powerful mage who knew what something was not; although not quite sure of what it was. "The signs would have been different." It was not the first time they had had that conversation. Growing up to become a scout, Ree'lyn had learned to be in touch with that arcane power that had been bestowed upon him. His sister tried to use her own influence as a ranked priestess to make him become a patrol leader, but he had earned that by himself. That was what he was now.
"The matron mother is happy that you have turned your childhood scavenger gang into a profitable scouting and trade agents." - that was the closest to a praise he would ever get from his sister. Some successful trade connections along the years turned him into a valuable asset to his family.
"A route for the caravan to explore has been set. You are going with them to take notes and provide a reliable chart for the area. There may be minerals and other resources in there to be taken." - his sister said in their last conversation. Sometimes she even seemed to care for him.
"Lay low if you can." - his father said and his sister chuckled at that. "Keep your patron and whatever happens to yourself."
"Our allies at Jaezred Chaulssin are also interested in the outcome of this caravan. You will offer them what they want and they will give us what we want. As usual." - after a brief pause, she seemed to have read his mind - "And Ree'lyn, do not try to drag your assassin friend into this. She is one of them. Leave it at that. They much likely will have their own agent in this matter, but do not try to push it onto her."
"Do let me know of any changes in your arcane powers. I want to keep track of how they develop. And how suggestive this entity is going to get." - his father, ever the House Wizard.
Except his travels took him to a wrong turn in the Underdark, alongside the unfortunate caravan, which came across other Drow that care nothing for his noble origins or his allies in Ched Nasad; nor the consequences of their insolence.
PROLOGUE FIVE - JEZZIKA VANDREE 2
ONE IS THE NUMBER OF THE CREATOR WHO DESCENDS FROM A STAR ABOVE
MANKIND WILL WONDER, ITS NAME UNINSCRIBED INTO THE BOOK OF LIFE SINCE THE WORLD BEGAN
AS IT LOOKS UP TO IT, WHO IS AND IS NOT OF THE INFINITE, OF IT WHO COMES AND GOES,
WITH IT WHOM EVERYTHING RISES AND WITH WHOM EVERYTHING WILL FALL.
The universe is dark, beautiful, and infinite. Far, far more infinite than anyone can comprehend. When I was young I had an idea of how infinite I thought it was, but now I know.
I am a Drow. The Spider Queen, Lolth, is our goddess whom we revere. From the time I was old enough to understand, I was taught that we are superior to all other creatures, for we remain steadfast in our devotion to Lolth despite the hardships of our existence. Any creature that isn’t a drow is useful only as a sacrifice to Lolth, as a slave, or as fodder for the giant spiders that patrol our cities and tunnels. Our society lives by a social code: The strong shall rule the weak. Sure, there are many other codes and rules, but this one is what we're mostly all about. And, of course, the rites and rituals - sacrifices to the Goddess. The tests, the priestly Orders, the Houses. I know all about it - i've seen it all before. But growing up as a young Drow in House Vandree I was never prepared for when I was of age and Umbra showed me my first glimpses of the infinite. Living underground, looking up into the night sky was impossible save through magic. What I was shown changed my life forever. It sparked something in me, an innocent childlike wonder and curiosity I couldn't resist. That day I realized there was something greater out there. More powerful. Stuff that made Lolth look like a child. I was slowly spoon fed incredible insight into the nature of the universe and it's workings.
And other things, too. Umbra instructed me, and as I grew older the lessons became darker. I should have been afraid..but I wasn't. I wanted more.
I learned to twist shadow and darkness in a manner that scared my people. I tried by best to hide it from my society but I could not. The power and the things I could do came so easily - and I liked it. My family and my House eventually found out what I was doing - worshiping another God instead of our own. It was heresy. They tried to kill me but Umbra warned me, protected me, defended me..empowered me. In the back of my mind I could hear a cosmic, ancient horror laugh with pleasure. I slew in it's name, and I wanted more, but I would not find it in Menzoberranzan.
I decided to run away.
PROLOGUE SIX -RONNAL ROCKWELL
Ronnal life began like every Duergar, he was taught that the dwarven gods had abandoned them during their time as Illithid slaves; the gods Laduguer and Deep Duerra helped gain their freedom. Eventually, his family came into power and stayed in power for a few centuries. To keep the family in power the first born son of the Rockwell's was sent to the temple of Deep Duerra to be come a war priest. As a child he did not understand nor did he want to go. He instead wanted to be a blacksmith, when father learned of this he was furious. "No son of Rockwell will become a blacksmith! We are a clan of Warriors! WARRIORS!"
A few days later Ronnal was give a pack, a shield and a war hammer. He was to travel alone to the temple of Deep Duerra. It was a hellish trip but he finally got there. To his suprises it wasn't temple but a fortress. Ronnal was tasked with studying the historical schematics of Duergar fortresses, battle tactics and combat medicine. Ronnal would spend 60 years in the temple learning and training in the clerical arts of Duergar War.
With his training done, he set out to return back to his home. To his surprise while he was away his father had more children, a younger sister and a younger brother. He tried to get along with them but the time gap and Duergar culture they only saw Ronnal as threat to their political power. Ronnal had grown tired of all the political in fighting within his clan and decided he would be better off in another Duergar city. Taking his belongings he set out to find another city where can call home and amass his own fortunes and glory.
Journeying the underdark he came across a Duergar raiding party fighting the drow. Not wanting to let his brothers and sisters get captured as slaves again. He ran out joining in on the fight. The battle was fierce but with his clerical abilities he was able to save the party but the drow had reinforcements. "Go! Tell you clan heads, tell them the drow grow near. I shall hold them off and buy you time! FOR DEEP DUERRA!" Ronnal rushed forward buying enough time for his fellow Duergar to escape but ultimately he was out numbered and was captured.
PROLOGUE SEVEN - QUINN ALTON
Ive not always had such a pocket full of coin, no. I grew up in Waterdeep, with a longing for the sea.
I didn't even know what that meant at 14. I always seen the sailors coming back, arms full of things the found. I just knew i wanted that excitement. One night, i was over come with emotion, and wrote my mother a note saying how much i loved her, and that id be back one day as a different person, and a man. I made my way over to the docks and waited for the dock master to fall asleep, and made my way onto a large ship. I went below deck and found a nice spot to hide, and sleep till were out at sea. I was awoken by 3 large men, not to fond of what they found. I begged and begged for them not to throw me over, id do anything. At that point, the captain came in and eyed me down. She seen i had nothing of value, and not worth robbing, or holding me for a ransom. She also seen my pan flute. "You can stay on one condition, you must play for us when our spirits are low. You will clean, you will work."
And so i did.
We were at sea for 3 months, meeting with other ships, i didn't know at the time, but my captain had an alliance going on with a few others. One day it went really bad. There was a sea battle, i was told to hide, but my sense of adventure made me peak through the crack of the wood. That was my first glimpse of magic. The captain held her hand up and what looked like lightning streamed from it and struck an enemy, and he lay limp ending the fight. They all surrendered. "Only the strong survive, Quinn." The captain says as she kicked the crew from the other ship, bound and gagged, into the sea. I begged once more, this time to learn what she could do, for days. We made it back to port, and i thought that was the end of my adventuring. I was gathering up some supplies and the captain came to check on my work. Obviously I had not done well. "You're moving too slow boy. Let me show you how to do it." As she says this, a hand the size of a wagon wheel appeared and started moving the crates. I watched in awe, and she spoke again. "I can teach you some things. But you must stay as part of the crew, officially."
I couldn't contain my excitement. I was part of the crew, AND magic? I had agreed before i even noticed the words coming out. Through lessons, and months, and nearly a year, i had learned to cast some spells myself. I kept up the spirits and a clean deck. I truly put in the effort to stay. I had stayed part of the crew until i was 20, spending the last 6 years as part of the crew. I did what i was told, and maybe done a few things i regret. I didn't like stealing. And i come to realize that i was indeed a pirate, not just a sailor. I couldn't sleep for weeks it felt like. "Time to move on" i thought to myself, and decided the next time we made port, id leave. And port was made. We landed at Daggerford, just south of Waterdeep. I had my small bag of items and left just how i entered. I made sure to not be spotted by my old crew until i was well away from town, headed south down the trade path. I found yet another group, these folk earned their living as a trade outpost along the trail. I explained my story, and how i had no place to sleep, or really anything. They let me stay, as long as i put in the effort, yet again. One day ill go back to my mother, ill see home again.
One day.
PROLOGUE EIGHT - JEZZIKA VANDREE 3
SIXTEEN IS THE NUMBER OF THE STRANGER, THE NEWCOMER.
SIXTEEN ARE IT'S REVELATIONS, 16 IS THE NUMBER OF IT'S HERALDS WHO WILL DEVASTATE THIS LAND.
EIGHT PLUS EIGHT IS THE NUMBER OF TWO CREATORS FIGHTING FOR DOMINION
EIGHT PLUS EIGHT. TWO INFINITIES CONSUMING ETERNITY IN THEIR CONFLICT.
INSTINCT VERSUS INTELLECT, FLESH VERSUS SPIRIT, CHAOS VERSUS ORDER.
FOUR TIMES FOUR IS THE NUMBER THAT COMPLETES THE SOLAR CROSS
WHEN ALL THINGS RETURN TO THEIR POINT OF ORIGIN
AND THE CIRCLE CLOSES FOREVER, UPON WHICH TIME TERMINATES.
About a thousand years from now this world will be destroyed. The one night when a barrage of asteroids will make the entire planet tremble - it's crust will be instantly punctured, bursting open along the many points of impact. Toril will fracture, cracks will burst across the planet's surface. Giant clods the size of cities will shoot skyward. Great waves of magma will rise to consume the planet, turning entire cities into lifeless wastelands. The rest will be flattened by stone hail, tsunamis, and earthquakes that will follow. By daybreak, dense billowing clouds will fill with volcanic ash and red dust from craters will swallow the sky, bathing the land in bloody twilight. Our star's light will reduce to a distant marble glistening though the haze. Only the fires will stave off the darkness.The world will stink of death.
That day, society as we know it will crumble - civilization vaporized in a day. Mankind might live on, it might be the end. The old world will go, and nothing could ever bring back the good old days. These asteroids from Umbra had not brought the apocalypse, but it brought something that will be called "Eshaton". A new beginning, but in Umbra's vision.
Now, mankind will only have to endure the night.
PROLOGUE NINE - ENKINDLE
Pain. Next to Faith and Fire, few others were an actual constant in Enkindle's life. Certainly little else could motivate her in what she long concluded to be a world filled with nothing but darkness, stone corridors, and worse. The clack and clank of metal on stone comes to a slow stop as the fire genasi slows to a stop after hours of movement. Though her motivators remained present, burning lungs demanded air, a lack of need in the moment was too sweet a thought. Enkindle soon found herself sliding backside first along a stone wall, breathing hard yet smiling a smile that bordered on hysteric.
She closes her eyes for a moment. But when they open again... she only has a second to realize the thing flying at her was a fist prior to have it smash into her nose, laying her flat on all too familiar stone. "Have you cooled down yet?" a somber voice above her asked. Though she says nothing in turn, after a long moment on the ground blinking away stars, the intense heat radiating atop her head dims until weight of her hair could be felt again. "I have tried to be patient with you. We've all tried and tried again. For years, Vonda... And so have you."
The underlying disappointment more than anything made her turn away, further obscuring her face from view. Father Salazar almost never let emotions get the better of him. And when they did, it was usually amusement over the impish nature of smaller acolytes, or minor offenses that usually led to more chores about the temple. So to hear the unspoken feeling and clear attempt at remaining impartial -- treating her like some criminal -- hurt her deeper than any physical injury, past or present. This was the man that raised her when no one else wanted her. When others thought her a demon, and would have long ago cast her out when a moments of passion got the better of Enkindle.
Next to Helm, few mattered as much to her.
Then, there came the hand at her shoulder. The balm that soon turned lead weights for the spirit as Father Salazar spoke began the recounting that would dog her every step. Until inevitably, no matter how much effort was put forth to contain her inner fire, her mission of atonement became one of survival upon chasing a query needlessly into the deep below....
As she finally rose her head to look upon the father to plead her case, blinking back steaming tears, the vision awaiting her resolves as the crushing reminder of stone. The smile slowly fades back into a tense mask. Mustering what strength remained, Enkindle clawed her way back to her feat, staring daggers down the path. "My watch is not over. Get. Going." She said breathlessly as she fought against gravity itself to stand upon her own two legs. Without a second more of hesitation, she put one foot after the other, deciding in the heat of the moment to turn the pain of bruises and possibly broken bones into a focus. When the first few bolts hit, the young woman hardly seemed to care or notice. Her mind had become numb to the pain, having walked for untold more hours without thought. A fifth hits jolting her forward a step more. Before darkness consumed her vision, her last sight for a time are red eyes drifting down from above, and wicked smiles.
PROLOGUE TEN - SVANA VATZWANI
The pitter-patter of rain outside her horse driven carriage slowly grew louder with every few feet they traveled causing Svana to look up from her book and take a gander out of the window. Dark burgundy hues saw nothing but dark grey skies, lit up occasionally by bright white flashes of lightning. Her brows furrowed at the weather, this being the third day it rained, but, in a way she was thankful for it. Although each day they grew close to their destination, the rain slowed them down considerably, having to stop at nearby inns to wait the storms out before going on the road again.
Svana felt the carriage slow down, the elf already leaning to listen to the driver speak.
“Milady,” He begins loud enough for her to hear him over the rain. “There should be a hostelry in a mile or so. Will you be okay with stopping?”
“That is quite alright, Hodgman.” She answers coolly. “No need to put you and the horses in danger.”
“And you as well, milady.” He chuckles in response, the sounds of him adjusting in his seat could be heard for a moment before he shouts a command to get the horses to pick up speed once more.
She leans back in her seat, her eyes drifting back to the stormy skies of Faerun as she listens intently to the rain fall while the memory of why she was there in the first place comes forth, as if it only happened a few hours ago.
There was endless chatter among her sisters as the day they had been waiting for since their birth had finally arrived; The choosing of their magic schools. They were all born in a family gifted in the arcane arts, and it was only natural that they all followed in their parents footsteps. Although they loved each other dearly, not one of them had decided to go to the same school as each girl found themselves proficient in different types of magic and when it came to gaining approval from their parents, none were denied.
Except for hers.
“W-what? No?” Svana looks up at her parents in disbelief and she could feel her heart sink to the ground. “B-but I’ve studied nothing but elemental magicks! I-I’ve excelled in it more so than my sisters! Why--”
“Because we have something we must discuss with you, dear.” Her father's powerful voice shakes her to her core, her mouth quickly sealing shut to let him speak. “You are aware of the feud that we are having with the Tashal’s, correct?” She finds herself only nodding in response. “Well, we have come to an agreement.” His voice lightens sightly, Svana looking up towards him once more. “All this fighting will be put to rest on one condition.” He pauses and stares at his youngest daughter in the eyes, a frown making way on his lips. “Rashim’s eldest son would like your hand in marriage.”
Svana’s mind was pulled away from the memory once she hears a particularly loud clap of thunder, shaking the carriage and spooking the horses outside.
“Hodgman, is everything alright out there?” She calls over the whinnying of the horses, her hands gripping tightly on the padding of her seat.
“A-ah, everything is okay, milady, just the horses got spooked is-- HRK!!!”
Panic shot throughout her body when she heard his strained yell, moving to quickly move aside the curtain to see if Hodgman was truly okay.
Yet when she tried to gaze through the small window, all she saw as red.
With another boom of thunder and a bright flash of lightning, the horses began their sprinting, not giving a care in the world where they were heading or what they were running over and within a few minutes, the carriage had toppled over when they hit and tripped over some rough terrain. Svana’s head bashed against the roof of the wagon her vision going blurry as she tried to focus on finding her spellbook before she got out.
Her heartbeat only picked up pace again when she heard the horses cries soon silenced by, what sounded like a sword, along with voices shouting at each other. She began to frantically locate her spellbook, wanting to at least defend herself before they opened up the caravan, but just as she located it, the door swung open. Before she even had a chance to react, they knocked her out cold.
PROLOGUE ELEVEN - AMARA
The young elf ran up to her mother, grinning widely. "You're going tomorrow, right?"
Amara wrapped her daughter in a hug, maneuvering her left arm awkwardly to join the right in a circle around the young woman. "Yes. But don't worry, I'll come back." She planted a kiss on Kira's forehead. "With plenty of stories of the Underdark." She glanced at the other elf joining them, who had just caught up from behind her excitable daughter. "Not too late at night, though." She gave her wife a reassuring smile.
Laia nodded. "Of course. I'll see you in a couple weeks." The couple exchanged a loving kiss before Amara headed into the building behind her.
Some Hours Later
"-how I got this!" Varek replaced the journal written in Undercommon into his bag. "It's not pretty down there, but I think we should be fine. Quick raid, in and out right?"
Amara just smiled as the other chorused with a round of agreements and shouts. Despite her age, it was her first time on a raid. She glanced at her left arm, which hung more or less limp at her side. It'll be fine...she gave me a different way of fighting. She was opening her mouth to propose a toast when the first bolt ripped through a window and embedded itself in Varek's neck.
Varek was dead. So were Adelaide, Warras, Keren. Amara had seen at least four others fall to drow poison. The building was on fire, and Amara knew she wouldn't last much longer, backed into her corner where she managed to get off the occasional blast of golden light from behind a fallen beam. She just needed to make this raid was costly enough that they'd withdraw, instead of going on to the rest of the village. No other buildings were on fire, so hopefully they'd stayed away for now. She leaned around her beam to fire off another beam and took a bolt in the arm, letting out a grunt of pain as the agony in her left arm brought up memories of...last time. As she moved to duck back around the beam, she felt the poison take effect, slowing her mind. She was on the ground...when did that happen? The last thing she saw before blackness closed in was the face of a drow warrior, teeth bared in a grimace of hate and blade raised. Her last thought was of Laia...and Kira...
PROLOGUE TWELVE - DISPOSAL UNIT K-3
Collect refuse. Mold refuse into compact form. Move refuse into Disintegrator.
These were the only things that went through the mind of Disposal Unit K-3 as it worked in a Waterdhavian landfill day in and day out. It had no other thoughts but to complete this task to the best of its ability. It did not have any idea how long it had been performing this most menial of tasks. It had no need to, the trash was there on all times of the day, on every day of the year. All it needed to keep track of was when it needed to recharge. But its owners, the Lords of Waterdeep kept track of how long it had been in their service when they performed their annual reviews. Disposal Unit K-3 had been in the service of the city for 32 years. Disposal Unit K-3 was judged to be the most effective out of all of the Disposal Units in Waterdeep, in large part because of its massive build and single minded focus on its task. It was determined that Disposal Unit K-3 would be taken back to the plant where it was built, to be given a new directive; Maintain order in Waterdeep and defend the city against its enemies. While on the journey, Disposal Unit K-3 was to remain in stasis, waiting for reprogramming.
Perhaps if Disposal Unit K-3 was online, it would've done a better job fighting off the raiders who attacking the carriage it was on and it might have arrived at its intended destination.
PROLOGUE THIRTEEN - BABY HUEY
Baby Huey…A Tale of Sadness and Woe
At times the world may seem an unfriendly and sinister place,
but believe that there is much more good in it than bad.
All you have to do is look hard enough,
let me tell you a tale, Comrade.
There's no happy endings, not here and not now, this tale is all sorrows and woes,
This is a story of a boy, born dumb, with no talent but fighting low-brow.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting? Does he love ale more than fighting?
A boy was once born, a flower of a great love, but now he’s alone, nothing but a mourning dove.
Born of low talent, low IQ, and no happiness, deep into that darkness dimming,
his childhood was one of sadness, and his soul was never brimming.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting? Does he love ale more than fighting?
He gets on with life as a barbarian, he's a stupid kinda chap.
He likes breaking skulls on Sundays, he likes getting mad as crap.
He likes to contemplate fighting, always ready to impale.
But when he starts to daydream, his mind turns straight to ale.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting? Does he love ale more than fighting?
He likes to use words like 'duh,' he likes to use words like 'umm.'
He likes to use words about fighting. But when he stops his talking,
His mind turns straight to ale.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting?
Does he love ale more than fighting?
He likes to hang out with Jezzika, his mind is like an empty pail,
But when left alone, his mind turns straight to ale.
Tralala tralala...
Does he love ale more than fighting?
Does he love ale more than fighting?
He's not too fond of crying, his parents are both slain,
But he just thinks back to ale, and he's happy once again.
Tralala tralala...
PROLOGUE FOURTEEN - TALIKE PINEWING
Talike lay in her tent, staring blankly at the wall. She hadn't had a good night's rest for weeks. It wasn't the constant rainfall or the endless drone of wolves that kept her conscious. She had learned to ignore those. Something else held Talike back from the blissful release of sleep. She felt as if her mind was occupied by another consciousness; a voice that wanted her to do something. And although this voice was not particularly compelling, it was persistent. Talike was beginning to wear thin. But there were more important things to be done. She'd give in to the voice eventually, but that day would come later.
"Talike, what are you doing?"
Vala's urgent whispers shook Talike from her stupor. Vala gestured towards the brown form in the forest.
"We're out here for a reason," Vala continued "Are we going to get this over with or not?"
Talike nodded begrudgingly. Her mother had sent her on a hunting trip with her sister. The food reserves were running low again. Talike knocked an arrow and drew a bead on the deer. As she prepared to release her arrow, the voices returned, just as they had every day for the last two weeks. Talike had become used to resisting the voice. She did it every night if she wanted to sleep. However, 14 nights of this coupled with 24 hours of tromping through the forest left Talike feeling anything but strong-willed.
Just step back, and aim a little to the left, the voice urged. I'm sure Vala will know to move out of the way.
Although she had tried to resist, Talike felt herself following the voice's command and directing her bow at her sister. And just as Vala turned towards her, head cocked in confusion, Talike released her arrow. In an instant, Talike found herself standing over the body of her eldest sibling
Vala had to go, assured the voice. She might have tried to do the same to you.
Talike had given in. Instead of cursing this voice's very existence, Talike began to admire it. It made her feel safe, it gave her a purpose. Talike savored the voice's commands, and performed them without hesitation. After days of being stretched thin, the string had finally snapped
Talike came to her senses around midnight. As her eyes swam in and out of focus, Talike found herself surrounded by the crumpled tents that had once formed her family's home. Blood and grime caked her hands, and even more oozed from the space between her shoulder blades. Scrapes and bruises were painted across her skin like a grotesque work of art. In a quick scan of her campground, Talike found nothing but a few tracks in the mud. They looked human. As she drew closer, Talike noticed small pools of blood on the ground, as if a wounded animal had tried escaping from its hunter. But Talike knew that this wasn't a wounded animal. Someone had taken her family.
After stumbling through the dark for what felt like hours, following every sign of human presence she could find, Talike reached a small cavern. Stepping inside, Talike was met with nothing but the echoes of the ragged breaths she struggled to draw. However, as she prepared to continue her search elsewhere, a faint noise caught her attention. Without even considering the possibility that what she had heard was nothing at all, Talike hurled herself deeper into the cave, prepared to see the free her family from their captors. She envisioned herself delivering swift justice to whoever had done this to them. Instead, Talike found the only family she had ever known dead in their own filth, surrounded by harshly scribbled symbols that were as strange as they were oddly familiar. Her mother had been stabbed repeatedly and was likely long departed before she was brought to this wretched cave. Vala, Talike's older sister, had been shot through the throat with one of her own arrows. Her brother was an even more sickening sight: he had been brutally disemboweled. As Talike tore her eyes away from the pile of corpses that now formed her family, she found herself face to face with a pair of onyx-skinned individuals. After sharing a brief exchange with their partner, the taller of the two raised a strange contraption and leveled it at Talike. A small arrow erupted from the end of the device and lodged itself firmly Talike's arm. Before she could return the favor to the offending creature, Talike collapsed into an unconscious heap.
PROLOGUE FIFTEEN - STEP STEP THUD
Step Step Thud had not returned to the orphanage in many years. He saw that the stupid kids who had once fed him scraps from their tables had been replaced by far stupider kids. He remembered how elated he had been when he had been chosen to go to the monastery. He thought he would teach him how to fight and how to take more shinies.
He was a fool. They just wanted a menial laborer, someone that even the lowliest apprentice could order around with impunity, someone there to show the worst off that their lot could be worse. They taught him nothing besides how to mop the floors, clean their rags, and take a kick without fighting back. So he taught himself, cutting corners on his chores so that he could watch their master's lessons from the door, learning how to use a weapon to do violence and free himself.
Soon enough, he was caught, but those who caught him made a fatal mistake in underestimating how much he had learned. They had reasoned out that without practice, Step Step Thud couldn't have learned enough to overcome them in combat. Then, with their backs turned, both fell in an instant. Thus, he named himself for the sound of violence that both allowed and forced him to leave the monastery behind. From then on out, he lived his life on the streets, amassing a small hoard of shinies from those who had found themselves in back allies and those who were careless with their purses.
But now, he was about to hit the jackpot. A Drow caravan, returning to the Underdark after a night of raiding, would be an easy mark for one such as him. Their sentries would be exhausted and careless, believing all opposition to have been killed or taken. They would not be able to stop him from taking the things he wanted from their loot carts, several bags of shinies would be his.
"Seize him! Don't let him get away!" He turns, seeing several Drow coming for him. One grabs onto his leg to be swiftly met with a sharp blow from a club. "Back off, stupid bird! Don't touch your betters!"That one falls away, blood streaming from his broken nose, but two others take his place in the pursuit. Step Step Thud sights safety and success, if he can only hide in the forest until dawn, less than an hour away. Nearly to the edge of the treeline, a crossbow bolt takes him in the arm, but it wouldn't be... enough to slow... him... He collapses, only a few feet from his goal. The Drow that were pursuing him grab him by the arms, another prisoner to be taken in offering to Lolth.
OUT OF THE ABYSS
CHAPTER ONE:
PRISONERS OF THE DROW
THE UNDERDARK
Deep beneath the surface of the world lies the Underdark, a realm of endless labyrinthine tunnels and caverns where the sun never shines. The Underdark is filled with races and creatures too numerous to count or list, and foremost among these are the dark elves — the drow. Hated and feared even by their fellow dwellers in darkness, the drow raid other settlements in the Underdark as well as the surface world, taking prisoners back with them. Rendered unconscious with drow poison, then collared and shackled, these prisoners are eventually sold as slaves or entertainment in the dark elves’ subterranean cities.
PRISONERS!
We begin this adventure as prisoners of 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 called Velkynvelve. You all did not arrive at the same time. The drow have made numerous raids on the surface and collected most of you at different times. Your captors are led by a cruel drow priestess who calls herself Mistress Ilvara of House Mizzrym. Over the past three 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 all 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. Eventually, you are all awaiting transportation to Menzoberranzan, the City of Spiders.
MAIN GOAL OF THIS CHAPTER
Escape the underground drow outpost of Velkynvelve by any means possible before the caravan to Menzoberranzan arrives in 4 days. Doing so will complete the chapter and move us along to Chapter 2. This chapter will be broken into four "chunks", one for each day, and a deadline to post will be given so everyone can read, post, and have time to not get left behind. I will give you things to do and interact with during each chunk. You are free to post as much as you'd like within each chunk, but the game will push forward at the deadline. If, for whatever reason, you fail to escape Velkynvelve by the fourth day, the campaign ends. Occasionally, I will post something like this to remind you guys where we are. For example:
CHAPTER: ONE / CHUNK ONE: "DAY ONE", DUE MONDAY @ MIDNIGHT / GOAL: ESCAPE VELKYNVELVE
FELLOW PRISONERS
Buppido - Male Derro. Buppido is surprisingly gregarious and talkative, demonstrating a keen mind and a disarming manner. Buppido yearns to return home to Gracklstugh.
Jimjar - Male Deep Gnome. Jimjar is a feckless rogue with a devil-may-care attitude, a fondness for coin, and an obsession with betting on virtually anything and everything. He appears to have an unhealthy gambling obsession, and comes from a place called Blingdenstone, and aches to return.
Stool - Stool is a myconid sprout. Stool appears lonely and frightened, wanting only to return to its home in Neverlight Grove.
Shuushar - Male Kuo-toa. This aquatic hermit is a calm and peaceful presence. He claims to have spent a lifetime in contemplation and solitary meditation. He exudes an aura of enlightened balance. Shuushar is even calm and accepting of his current imprisonment. Shuushar speaks fondly of his home, Sloobludop.
Eldeth - A female shield dwarf from Gauntlgrym. Good hearted and protective. Eldeth is stubborn and hates the drow very much. She is dangerously defiant towards them.
Ront - Ront is a mean, stupid, and hateful male Orc, and especially hates Eldeth, as his tribe is at war with her people. Their animosity is clearly visible.
Sarith - A male drow, is sullen and keeps to himself, mostly. He once said he is disgraced by his imprisonment but is resigned to his fate, since there doesn’t appear to be anything he can do about it.
THE DROW OFFICERS OF VELKYNVELVE
Ilvara - Female drow priestess of Lolth and Outpost Commander. Ilvara is a cruel mistress who enjoys taunting and tormenting enemies and underlings alike. She carries a rod with tentacles at the end, and is a very dangerous foe. She appears to be having a love affair with Shoor.
Asha - Second in command, Asha is a female drow junior priestess of Lolth, and also very dangerous.
Shoor - A male drow Elite warrior, Shoor is Ilvara’s lieutenant. He is relatively young and quite arrogant for a drow male, proud of his abilities and accomplishments. He is a skilled hunter and warrior, and a deadly adversary. He appears to be having a love affair with Ilvara.
Jorlan - A male drow Elite warrior, Jorlan's once-handsome face is melted and scarred, and his sword hand twisted and missing two fingers. He has a knack for torture and is a powerful foe.
Other enemies - The outpost contains 20 drow warriors, 10 quaggoths they use as slaves, and an unknown amount of giant spiders lingering around.
VELKYNVELVE
The drow outpost of Velkynvelve 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 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. Watch posts lie at either end of the outpost, near the northern and southern entrances to the cavern.
THE SLAVE PEN AND YOUR RESTRAINTS
Velkynvelve’s slave pen is closed with a heavy iron gate bolted into the stone. You all are each provided with clay chamber pots, and one of the duties you perform is emptying them into the pool during your labor shift. There are no other comforts in the slave pen. You must sit or lie on the stone floor, and are fed only once each day — a thin mushroom broth served in small clay bowls passed through gaps in the bars of the gate.
All of you wear iron slave collars along with manacles connected to iron belts by a short length of chain. This leaves you all restrained, but doesn’t affect your movement or speed. Moreover, spellcasting isn’t possible inside the slave pen because of its magical wards. Slipping out of manacles requires a successful DC 20 Dexterity check, while breaking them requires a successful DC 20 Strength check. Any of you can unlock the manacles using thieves’ tools with a successful DC 15 Dexterity check. The manacles have 15 hit points. The iron collars can be broken with a successful DC 20 Strength check. The collars have 12 hit points. Any of you who fails a check to break a collar, break a set of manacles, or escape from a set of manacles can’t attempt checks of that kind again until he or she finishes a long rest. A character can still use the Help action to aid another character, however.
THE ADVENTURE BEGINS
Our adventure begins now, about 3 days in as prisoners of the drow at Velkynvelve. Although you cannot tell, it is morning. Today is nothing special - another day as a prisoner in the Underdark. The beginning of our adventure marks the start of the first day of play out of four before the caravan arrives. (But the third day as prisoners.) You are all locked in AREA 11. The entire outpost is heavily guarded and you are being monitored at all times. YOU HAVE NO CLOTHING OR GEAR ON EXCEPT YOUR UNDERGARMENTS. YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHERE YOUR POSSESSION ARE.
CHAPTER: ONE / CHUNK ONE: "DAY ONE", DUE MONDAY @ MIDNIGHT / GOAL: ESCAPE VELKYNVELVE
1. ROLL: Each player please roll a d20 + d10 and post your result in your first post. This will determine, if anything, something you have on you that you've stolen from the Drow in the 3 days you've been here. I will let you know what it is.
2. INTERACT: Interact with each other and introduce yourselves. Since you have all arrived at different times and been here for a few days, it's time to get acquainted and plot a scheme to escape. You can talk among yourselves, the NPCs, or with the Drow. Since this a role-playing game, you are free to act and try anything you'd like. REMEMBER: YOUR ACTIONS AND WORDS WILL HAVE CONSEQUENCES THAT THE DROW WILL ACT UPON. KEEP THIS IN MIND. IF, FOR WHATEVER REASON, YOU DIE, YOU ARE OUT OF THE GAME.
3. LABOR: While you are prisoners, the drow will interact with you and make you all do menial labor. You will all be given your daily tasks during this chunk. You will be broken up into very small group supervised by the Quaggoths during your labor. They can include tasks like: COOKING DUTY, WATER BARRELS, LIFT OPERATION, QUAGGOTH PEN CLEANUP, DISH CLEANING, CHAMBER POT CLEANING, FISHING, CRATE REORGANIZATION, TRASH DISPOSAL, LAUNDRY, SUPPLY INVENTORY, SOMETHING ELSE.
4. SCHEME: You have four days to try and come up with a plan to escape. Today is day one.
YOU MAY ALL BEGIN AND POST
Roll for crime: 16
Step Step Thud is a short Kenku with mussed, black feathers, the result of his recent encounter with the Drow. His beady eyes have a suspicious shine to them, as though he is calculating the best way to get shinies from those around him (which he is). Aside from the rags he wears, he has a bloodstained bandage wrapped around his left arm, the aftermath of a crossbow bolt.
He walks aimlessly around the slave pen, eventually coming to a stop near Ront. He speaks in a hushed whisper, one that sounds like that of a school teacher's, "Name? I am-" he makes a noise that sounds like someone moving quietly before the dull thud of wood meeting skull, "want to go outside? What have you found here?"
Jezzika Vandree, Drow runaway from House Vandree and worshiper of Umbra, used her thumb to draw strange symbols into the sand of the slave pen she had been in for two days.
New people were arriving today, and she looked up as the Drow Elites manhandled the newcomers into the pen. Lets see what we have here. Another drow. More humans. A bright red headed woman. A kenku, a genasi who appeared to be part living flame, a surface elf or two, even..a robot? It smelled like garbage. Ychh. The orc already in the pen, Ront, gave her a dirty look, and she shot one back as the dwarf, Eldreth, almost got up and barreled for the open slave pen door, trying to escape with the Drow Elites pointing crossbows at us, but I told her telepathically how big a mistake that would be. Thankfully, this time, she listened. I glanced over at the myconid, Stool, who was shivering in fear, and then looked at my clothes, or what was remaining of it.
Jezzika, shackled and stripped down to nothing but undergarments, had typical grey skin of the Drow, with straight, shoulder length white hair. Her eyes were ultra light purple and sparkled even in the darkness, as if inside her mind she had some otherworldly magic she was aching to share that was not allowed. House Vandree was responsible for weapon production among the other Houses in Menzoberranzan, so Jezzika received daily martial training during her youth and teenage years. Not as enormously muscular as Huey, she was graceful and slender, with sexy curves, a visibly toned body that was treated well and received regular exercise in addition to her knowledge of being able to handle a blade.
The clearly mentally challenged Half-Orc Barbarian that called himself "Baby Huey" kept looking at her, watching what she was doing, always sat next to her. It was like having a big, stupid older brother always around. But, the monstrosity did save her life right before they both had been captured by her people.
And only Lolth knows what will happen to them both. She remained quiet, looking at the floor, and plotted how she was going to get out of here and leave this accursed place.
Swiper no swiping: 4 + 2. So far, she had not been able to steal anything from the Drow during her two days of labor.
Pls: 2 + 6
Despite her knowing she had been here for, at most, three days, to Svana it felt like an eternity. This was not the lavish life she knew. There were no servants rushing to her with every beck and call, no three course meals that she was used to, no warmth or comfort. What she knew now was the cold dampness of the stone floor, and the cool press of the shackles weighing down her copper skinned wrists and neck. She was surrounded by people and creatures she knew little of (aside the dastardly drow who captured her) and felt powerless due to the antimagic field surrounded them. Those who were here before her knew when she first arrived she was all complaints and defiance, but by the second day, her spirit was seemingly broken, and she fell into silence, doing nothing but weaving her long burgundy hair into braids when they had their down time.
In her mind she was devising a plan of escape with the item she stole, but... Every possible idea she thought up was thwarted. Her dark red eyes scanned the other prisoners, stopping to watch the kenku creature speak to the second ugly half orc in the cage. When she deduced that she wouldn't be able to really hear the conversation, she brought up her knees to hug them as some sort of solace before she muttered under her breath,"This is hopeless."
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\