Spiders of the Abyss

Kolose quickly realizes he's too far to use the better option at his disposal, but there's always a good fallback- A little magic missile that can't miss, which he'll direct against the armored target while cautiously getting just a little bit closer (ten feet or so)

11

Stena fires at the remaining armored Drow.

Attack: 9 Damage: 6

Stena fires off an arrow that clatters off the drow's chain, while back up top, Neth assures Jimjar that they don't need to get involved, that the others have it handled, and it'll be fine. Jimjar seems hesitant, but places a bet on it being 'fine', and the two shake. 

Kolose wins Neth a few gold when a moment later, he shuffles forward and calls upon his arcane powers to send a trio of glowing darts streaking forward to slam into the armored drow, dropping them to a crumpled pile near Galingal.

Seeing the last of his pursuers fall, the unarmored drow calls out a final mocking refrain at the dead drow in Undercommon.

He eases off on the arrow he had held against the string, slipping it back in his quiver and the bow over his shoulder as he raises both hands and calls out in Common.

“Peace!  I have no quarrel with you."

 Drow Warriors: 22
Lone Drow: 21 (Dodge Action held)
Yuk Yuk: 20
Spiderbait: 19
Gal: 17  <----<<<
Lia: 17
Fargas:  16
Stena: 15 <-----<<<
Neth: 15
Jimjar: 15
Kolose: 13

The Drow slings his bow over his shoulder, setting down his short sword and holds his hands up, in a nonthreatening way.  He will speak in common now, to those above him and those as yet unseen.

“They had jailed me unfairly, they were hunting me, trying to kill me so that I could be silenced, silenced for pointing out the poison in Drow culture, the pestilence that is seeking deep roots and stronger and stronger influence over them.  I am Petmailer Nailo, of Zazesspur, previously of the Shadow Sentinels, guardians of the perimeter of our lands.  I mean you no harm.  I would speak with you, share stories, perhaps… perhaps a meal?  Can we talk for a bit and compare our paths through this world?  Maybe we could learn from one another… I appreciate your help just now.  Perhaps I could help you in kind…”

Stena watches the drow put away his weapons before giving his life story. Half listening she starts walking towards the three downed drow to search them for anything useful.

When the rambling stops she'll call back,

"Right. Ye know the way to the surface, drow?"

She will shoot a warning look up to where the rest of the party are in an attempt to head off the group's habit of adding new members.

((Welcome Twombley!))

Kolose immediately goes "Sorry, ADAB" (All drow are bad) and shoots first- :^) Welcome to the game!

Galingal stands guard over Stena while she searches the dead bodies for anything useful.

Once done, Galingal checks their armor to see if it's in decent shape and whether it would  fit him.

"So many die," Galingal says to Stena, ignoring the newcomer for the moment. "If that one can fight, could use."

He still keeps a cautious eye on Petmailer.

"Not all drow enemy," Galingal adds. "Sarith wasn't."

@Petmailer

The armor is in good shape, and would certainly fit Gal's lithe elven form.

What kind of armor was it again, chain mail shirt? If that's what it was, Galingal will leave it but make it available to anyone else who might want to wear it (it won't improve his AC).

Kolose, for his part, seems almost jovial to greet a new friend. He's surprisingly tall for seeming to be just a human, even walking with a slight hunch, though the old man is clearly still winded from the last few days. His clothing, perhaps once noble, has seen better days as well.

"Please do not be too alarmed. You seem like a good soul, though it pays to be wary in a place as this."

"Why invite the risk. If this one can be as useful as Sarith, he can prove it."

Stena's turns her her disdainful eye to the Drow, her expression a picture of muted hostility. While through and through a shield dwarf, her form tends more to the lithe than muscular. Her features are blunt, her red hair hacked away roughly. Her clothes are rough and her overall demeanor is unwelcoming.

“It certainly does pay to be careful.  Wait a minute… Sarith…. I know that name.  He was in a jail cell that I was in for a bit before they moved me.  He always seemed a little… off … to me.  But we had no quarrel.  Alas, I do not know any secret way to the surface, I’m turned around I was running so far and so hard.  This is no where near the lands that I used to travel.  I’ve heard of the gnome capital city of Blingdenstone, thought it was somewhere nearby, but I can’t guide you out.  I can help you though… help to fight off monsters or other Drow, attackers that we come upon.   I can earn my keep…”  Petmailer moves to the bodies of the Drow, taking the armor and starting to put it on, he searches the bodies for anything else useful, shoes, food, a scabbard, a longsword or short sword, dagger, additional arrows, he’ll even pick up a hand crossbow and bolts if available.  After this, he stands before them, ready to answer questions and looking around.  He looks down at his thigh, punctured with one of their bolts.  He tears off some fabric from the Drow and ties it around his thigh to cover the recent puncture wound from a bolt to his thigh. 

Standing there, he says “There were two more of them, I took them down with my bow.  I’m a keen shot, and I’ve learned how to infuse magic into my arrows… I can help you.  I don’t think there are any more, but perhaps we should move away from here and then find somewhere to rest for a short bit.  There are many dangers here as I’m sure that you are aware of by this point.  Where are you going?”  

The talkative drow keeps up a running commentary as he approaches, clearly looking to loot the bodies of his pursuers. His attention is pulled a bit by an assortment of other figures swarming over the ledge to join him, the dour dwarf, and the stoic Shadar-kai.

There is a young woman with blond hair so light as to be almost silvery, with a faintly pearlescent cast to her pale skin. She is flanked by a tiefling man, bald and blue-skinned, who has a slightly unnerving smile and holds his head at an odd angle. The others are shorter in stature, a pair of goblins, one taller than the other, but both with a laid back vibe. There is also an excitable halfling and a deep gnome, who is looking back and forth between the drow and his companions.

((Yes, the drow are wearing chain shirts, so 13 AC + Max 2 DEX would put Gal at 15 whether he's doing that or the studded leather he already has. Neth can't wear medium armor, though he could wear Gal's hand me down studded leather if he swapped for the drow armor. The goblins, Jimjar and Fargas are all too small for it to be a comfortable fit, even if they were proficient.))

Stena watches the Drow approach warily and then with narrowed eyes as he starts stripping gear off the dead Drow.

She gestures to the chatty Pet, stripping gear and making suggestions like he's already joined up, with one hand while looking at Gal with a,

"Seriously?"

Expression.

Her expression goes stone hard on Pet's last question and gives the gallery party members a poisonous look to keep the idiots quiet. She adds,

"Not a word."

To make sure they get it before answering herself.

"The surface. Wait here."

She'll move away with Gal towards the gallery to confer quietly,

"Not another one. We've picked up five in the last two days. We send him on his way."

Galingal looks at Petmailer as he scavenges the bodies while talking. All that talking and he’s liable to get a beating from Stena.

Galingal moves to the side with Stena.

”He was good with bow. If useful and quiet he can come with us. If not we leave him.” Galingal says to the Stena. Though he suspects if Lia was more her usual self she would welcome the drow with open arms, and a song regardless of what Stena or Galingal says.

”We’re going that way.” Galingal says to the newcomer, pointing in the direction they were heading. Hunted or not, the newcomer doesn’t need to know more than that at this point.

He turns back to Stena and looks at the others, then lowers his voice.

”Goblins will get bored and leave soon. Halfling likely to die. Wizard may or may not remember something useful. Will need another warrior to find surface.”

The halfling is fairly bouncing on his toes, and keeps looking up at the far wall, struggling to keep quiet as requested ordered.

Stena, and then Petmailer, would find that the drow were equipped with fairly standard military issue clothes, chain shirts in the drow fashion, scabbarded short swords, and a hand crossbow each, with a case varyingly stocked with darts, the cases designed in such a way that the tips of the bolts are coated in the renowned drow poison.

They each have a pack, though light on personal effects, they each have a few days worth of dried fungal and meat rations, waterskins, mess kits, bedrolls, a tinderbox and a small assortment of Menzoberranzan minted coins. After the hardships of the party, a veritable treasure trove of comfort items.

((Someone give me a d100 roll for luck.))

Lucky!: 57

In the course of looting the bodies while the dwarf and shadow elf confer to the side, Petmailer's ongoing monologue doesn't miss a beat as his hands encounter a tight coil of smooth, silken rope.

Stena weighs what Gal says, nodding along.

"The halfling is going to get eaten, aye. Probably the old man too. Surprised Neth hasn't wandered off yet."

She holds up a finger,

"Ye'll tell him to shut up. Things just got peaceful since Lia..."

She lets that hang, unsure what happened to her. Battle trauma of some sort. Weak mind.

"Got the halfling a sword. Maybe it'll choke whatever gets him."

She says without any humor .

Galingal adds “Could let him enter doorway first.”

He then scoops up a mess kit, bedroll and an extra waterskin, then starts climbing back up to the ledge.