Varis can’t suppress a small smile as he grabs his crystal, suspended on a delicate silver chain and slips it around his neck. He rolls his eyes at the quaggoth prince’s comments, but says nothing, instead responding to Shuusar’s voice echoing in his mind. We risk our lives by staying here, this way we at least have a chance. But be careful, this could be a trick on Jorlan’s part, a way to regain favor with his mistress by capturing us as we escape.
Varis slides up next to Monar. “I have your back. I have no desire to rot in this place.” He holds his manacles out to get unlocked with the others.
As manacles are unlocked and restraints are removed over the span of the next few minutes, telepathic conversation continues. There is no unanimity among the group, but all agree that the odds for escape seem more favorable if the party avoids the southern portion of Velkynvelve. The four of you sift through the disjointed pieces of conversation and piece together the following:
Some prisoners assert the fastest and most direct route of escape is to exit the prisoners' cave (denoted by a star), head north down the stairs, pass the quaggoths' den (B), overrun the two drow guards (C), and leap into the pool below (E), and swim the short distance to the cavern floor (F). This plan allows the prisoners to avoid the spider webs and additional drow guards. It does, however, require the prisoners to pass the quaggoths' den, to fall approximately 70' into murky water of unknown depth, and to leave Velkynvelve with nothing more than the items they currently have on hand. Those who express support for this idea are Buppido and the twins, Tarnstrak and Treacle.
Others suggest that leaving Velkynvelve unarmed is insanity. Leaving the cave and heading to the armory (A) should occur first. After gathering armor, weapons, and equipment, the party should descend the stairs, pass the quaggoths' den, overrun the guards and leap into the water. This route will very likely require combat with the drow stationed in or near the armory. Ront, Sarith, Eldeth, and Jimjar prefer this idea.
A variation to both of the above plans is this: rather than leap directly from the guards' platform (C) and into the water, consider jumping into the spider webs (D) and from there, jump into the pool. The 30' fall into the webs will be harmless, and because the prisoners will land near the edge of the web, they will need to move only a few feet before falling another 40' into the pool. The idea of landing in the webs makes everyone a bit nervous. So too does a 70' freefall into the pool.
Derendil is non-commital to any plan.
Shuusharmerely listens and says nothing.
Stool offers nothing of help. It merely repeats I am afraid. I want to go home.
The Yuan-Ti is remiss at the idea of abandoning his swords in a Gods forsaken place as this! He'd also like to find a whip amongst the drow -- a taste of their own medicine, 'and a personal love for the sound it makes as it tears across bare flesh!'
...He's sure to leave that last part out when he votes to storm the armory. Turning to the Quaggoth, he simply suggests that "using a great blade or hammer would surely be more aesthetically pleasing for His Majesty, than to simply swing upon these foolish drow like a common brute." He is after all royalty, is he not...?
Monar nods at Zilly. "Yes. Weapons. Even better if we can get some armour, but we need to be quick and have some kind of distraction once we're moving." His golden brown eyes fall on the myconid, Stool and his voice becomes remarkably gentle. "Can you be brave, little one? If you come with us we can help you home." He glances round the cell. "Well, I can't speak for any of these others, but I'll help you, if I can."
"If we have weapons, we can jump into the webs and cut our way down quickly. Better than jumping and better than rushing past all them Quaggoths." He shudders. "Just make sure we do it fast. Ain't liking the idea of meeting the owners of them webs. If you catch my drift."
Varis considers his options as the group discusses their plans. Although he is a fair to middling duelist with the sword, he has no real need for weapons. Still, he is no fool and running around in the Underdark unarmed is full of danger, even with the gifts of his patron, and it is better to surround himself with those with weapons. He nods in agreement “The armory first then. We should grab what we can quickly and destroy the rest somehow to slow down the Drow. It’s best to avoid the webs and jump straight in, I think. Even if we manage to cut our way free quickly, it will alert the spiders.” He prepares to go to the armory with the others.
Should I or shouldn't I? The slaver's a tad conflicted, as he's been good to hide his prior occupation up until now, but a step too far could give them pause as to discern his past, which would NOT be beneficial to his health.
...oh, to the Hells with it.
"Begging your pardon. But if upon searching, any of you find some lockpicks (Thieves' Tools) or a Poisoner's Kit, I believe we could benefit from every little advantage. I doubt they have Alchemical reagents (supplies), but if you happen to find them, I do possess knowledge of at least one healing salve recipe."
Now tell them why, little Pit Viper, he chides to himself. A pick to break in, poison to knock them out, drag them away in chains, and a salve to heal their scrapes. The result? Pristine product every time, at ideal market price. Sublime.
The minutes leading up to Jorlan's signal--whatever it might be--are tense and quiet.
Will Jorlan follow through with his vague promise? How will he do so? What are the odds of success? How many will die? Where do we go from here?
While the group waits, Ront digs up a crossbow bolt that he has hidden under some loose earth. "I will stick a lucky drow," he boasts.
Monar retrieves the rusty iron bar, and Szefarian imagines a drow neck or two that he might "adorn" with his strand of silk rope. Zilly and Varis mentally rehearse all that they might do with their arcane powers.
At last, Jorlan's voice, somewhat distant can be heard. "Imbros! Your help, please! Something has happened to Kalannar! What do you know of this?!"
Imbros's response conveys his confusion. "What's that? What do you mean?"
"Come here!" calls Jorlan. "Kalannar is unresponsive!"
Imbros's retreating footsteps indicate he has walked away from the prisoner gate and toward Jorlan. Derendil then uses the larger of the two keys to unlock the gate, and, as imagined, all hell breaks loose.
Derendil, followed by the twins, exits the cave and immediately turn north. The two drow warriors (1, 2) ready their crossbows as the quaggoth rushes toward them. On the bridge to the armory stand three drow: two warriors (3, 4) and Jorlan. All have their crossbows drawn; they fire at Derendil, but only one bolt finds its target. Two additional drow (5,6) stand upon the second bridge; it appears they are dashing to the south, likely to fetch reinforcements.
Characters, denoted with gray circles, may act in any order. The distance from the prisoners' gate to the armory is approximately 30'.
Monar growls as the three prisoners turn north from the cell. “Fine. They can keep the Quaggoth occupied. I’m getting to the armoury.” The Bugbear bends forward and without hesitation charges the guard just in front of Jorlan, growling loudly. He barrels into the guard at full pelt, trying to push him over the rope bridge and into the webs below.
Szefarian's quick to rush the bridge as well. Getting within range of the first guard, he uses the rope to attempt to "pull" their crossbow away from them. He's careful to stay behind the bugbear, hoping to deprive the other two (or maybe just one) drow of a clear shot.
Monar charges the frontmost drow, barreling into him violently. The drows slams awkwardly into the spider silk railing and tumbles over it, falling into the webs below.
Zilly's enchantment brings about the desired result, for the bard sees the drow momentarily wince in pain, and place a hand to his head,
(Because drow 3 is removed from the bridge, Szefarian will need to modify his action. Varis may act as welll,)
Clearly forces work against the slaver, as the guard plummets before he can grab anything. Damn!
Jorlan's next, so Szefarian tries his luck again, grabbing at their conspirator's weapon with his impromptu silken snare. "You wouldn't happen to have a whip on you too, would you?" he hisses in the drow dialect. It's intended as a taunt, but perhaps the spurned little fool is of a like mind. In any case, he needs something more!
Varis follows the others out of the pens and up toward the rope bridge. He feels an invisible weight lifted as he crosses the threshold of the slave pen and he feels a connection with his magic restored. Flexing his hands as they are released from the manacles, he sends a bolt of eldritch energy toward Drow 4.
(25 to hit, 12 damage rolled in game log.)
He briefly glances at the Drow fleeing to the south, but realizes there is little he can do to prevent them from getting reinforcements. “Hurry and grab what we can before those two return.”
Jorlan offers only feigned resistance to Szefarian. The drow struggles momentarily to maintain possession of his hand crossbow but eventually allows Szefarian to take it. Behind Jorlan, a drow guard (#4) absorbs the full brunt of Varis's eldritch blast, which finishes the job that Zilly began. The drow falls lifeless to the bridge walkway. The drow guard that Monar shoved overboard can be seen below, struggling to slash himself free of the webbing.
To the north, Derendil is attempting to set his claws upon the two drow at the guard station. They attempt to respond in kind with their shortswords. Tarnstrak and Treacle are preparing to clamber over the railing and fall to the webs below. Jimjar, Ront, and Buppido are rushing northward as well. Eldeth and Sarith decide to stay near the rope bridge in hopes of gaining access to the armor. Stoolremains hesitant just inside the prisoners' gate.
The two drow to the south continue their path toward the reinforcements.
Round 1 has concluded. All players may act, in any order. Jorlan is disarmed (his shortsword is not drawn). Szefarian now wields a hand crossbow loaded with one poison-tipped bolt.
Szefarian aims at Jorlan but makes a show to keep his finger off the trigger. Speaking in a low voice, he asks the spurned elf simply, "I assume your patsy's set to take the fall?" He narrows his eyes and widens his smile in a rather sinister show of mirth.
"...Or perhaps you were hoping to join us on our little escape? Hehe."
He doesn't know who might be watching, so he's willing to play things out, for now. Still, he watches for any reactions from the smarmy little traitor on what his next move may be.
Szefarian does his best to read the drow warrior who has unexpectedly become a key player in this life-and-death situation. Jorlanseems uninterested in harming Szefarian and responds, "My motives are my own, and, no, I'll not be joining your party of escapees."
Zilly will cast Vicious Mockery on one of the Drow engaged with Derendil, hoping to offer any assistance.
Wis DC 14, Damage: 4
Zilly will then move into the armory, on the way, if the Drow that is dead has a hand crossbow, Zilly will grab it and any bolts that seem obvious, if it does not, he will ignore the dead Drow.
Szefarian does his best to read the drow warrior who has unexpectedly become a key player in this life-and-death situation. Jorlanseems uninterested in harming Szefarian and responds, "My motives are my own, and, no, I'll not be joining your party of escapees."
'Note to self, the slaver thinks, if he tries anything later, kill him.'
Varis can’t suppress a small smile as he grabs his crystal, suspended on a delicate silver chain and slips it around his neck. He rolls his eyes at the quaggoth prince’s comments, but says nothing, instead responding to Shuusar’s voice echoing in his mind. We risk our lives by staying here, this way we at least have a chance. But be careful, this could be a trick on Jorlan’s part, a way to regain favor with his mistress by capturing us as we escape.
Varis slides up next to Monar. “I have your back. I have no desire to rot in this place.” He holds his manacles out to get unlocked with the others.
As manacles are unlocked and restraints are removed over the span of the next few minutes, telepathic conversation continues. There is no unanimity among the group, but all agree that the odds for escape seem more favorable if the party avoids the southern portion of Velkynvelve. The four of you sift through the disjointed pieces of conversation and piece together the following:
The Yuan-Ti is remiss at the idea of abandoning his swords in a Gods forsaken place as this! He'd also like to find a whip amongst the drow -- a taste of their own medicine, 'and a personal love for the sound it makes as it tears across bare flesh!'
...He's sure to leave that last part out when he votes to storm the armory. Turning to the Quaggoth, he simply suggests that "using a great blade or hammer would surely be more aesthetically pleasing for His Majesty, than to simply swing upon these foolish drow like a common brute." He is after all royalty, is he not...?
Zilly agrees with Szefarian, “heading into the Underdark unarmed is a fool’s errand. We need to get to the armory and arm ourselves.”
Monar nods at Zilly. "Yes. Weapons. Even better if we can get some armour, but we need to be quick and have some kind of distraction once we're moving." His golden brown eyes fall on the myconid, Stool and his voice becomes remarkably gentle. "Can you be brave, little one? If you come with us we can help you home." He glances round the cell. "Well, I can't speak for any of these others, but I'll help you, if I can."
"If we have weapons, we can jump into the webs and cut our way down quickly. Better than jumping and better than rushing past all them Quaggoths." He shudders. "Just make sure we do it fast. Ain't liking the idea of meeting the owners of them webs. If you catch my drift."
Varis considers his options as the group discusses their plans. Although he is a fair to middling duelist with the sword, he has no real need for weapons. Still, he is no fool and running around in the Underdark unarmed is full of danger, even with the gifts of his patron, and it is better to surround himself with those with weapons. He nods in agreement “The armory first then. We should grab what we can quickly and destroy the rest somehow to slow down the Drow. It’s best to avoid the webs and jump straight in, I think. Even if we manage to cut our way free quickly, it will alert the spiders.” He prepares to go to the armory with the others.
Should I or shouldn't I? The slaver's a tad conflicted, as he's been good to hide his prior occupation up until now, but a step too far could give them pause as to discern his past, which would NOT be beneficial to his health.
...oh, to the Hells with it.
"Begging your pardon. But if upon searching, any of you find some lockpicks (Thieves' Tools) or a Poisoner's Kit, I believe we could benefit from every little advantage. I doubt they have Alchemical reagents (supplies), but if you happen to find them, I do possess knowledge of at least one healing salve recipe."
Now tell them why, little Pit Viper, he chides to himself. A pick to break in, poison to knock them out, drag them away in chains, and a salve to heal their scrapes. The result? Pristine product every time, at ideal market price. Sublime.
The minutes leading up to Jorlan's signal--whatever it might be--are tense and quiet.
Will Jorlan follow through with his vague promise? How will he do so? What are the odds of success? How many will die? Where do we go from here?
While the group waits, Ront digs up a crossbow bolt that he has hidden under some loose earth. "I will stick a lucky drow," he boasts.
Monar retrieves the rusty iron bar, and Szefarian imagines a drow neck or two that he might "adorn" with his strand of silk rope. Zilly and Varis mentally rehearse all that they might do with their arcane powers.
At last, Jorlan's voice, somewhat distant can be heard. "Imbros! Your help, please! Something has happened to Kalannar! What do you know of this?!"
Imbros's response conveys his confusion. "What's that? What do you mean?"
"Come here!" calls Jorlan. "Kalannar is unresponsive!"
Imbros's retreating footsteps indicate he has walked away from the prisoner gate and toward Jorlan. Derendil then uses the larger of the two keys to unlock the gate, and, as imagined, all hell breaks loose.
Derendil, followed by the twins, exits the cave and immediately turn north. The two drow warriors (1, 2) ready their crossbows as the quaggoth rushes toward them. On the bridge to the armory stand three drow: two warriors (3, 4) and Jorlan. All have their crossbows drawn; they fire at Derendil, but only one bolt finds its target. Two additional drow (5,6) stand upon the second bridge; it appears they are dashing to the south, likely to fetch reinforcements.
Characters, denoted with gray circles, may act in any order. The distance from the prisoners' gate to the armory is approximately 30'.
Monar growls as the three prisoners turn north from the cell. “Fine. They can keep the Quaggoth occupied. I’m getting to the armoury.” The Bugbear bends forward and without hesitation charges the guard just in front of Jorlan, growling loudly. He barrels into the guard at full pelt, trying to push him over the rope bridge and into the webs below.
Szefarian's quick to rush the bridge as well. Getting within range of the first guard, he uses the rope to attempt to "pull" their crossbow away from them. He's careful to stay behind the bugbear, hoping to deprive the other two (or maybe just one) drow of a clear shot.
DM dice rolls
Zilly will move out of the cell and up to the bridge but stand just to the south side of it as to not block anyone getting by.
He will tell Moran how great he is at pushing Drow off bridges, giving him Bardic Inspiration.
He will then tell Drow #4 that Jorlan is the warrior, lover, and musician that he always wanted to be, casting Vicious Mockery on him.
DC 14 Wisdom save or 4 damage and disadvantage on next attack.
OOC: Also, Zilly would keep his set of manacles with him if not to cumbersome.
(Revising encounter on bridge)
Monar charges the frontmost drow, barreling into him violently. The drows slams awkwardly into the spider silk railing and tumbles over it, falling into the webs below.
Zilly's enchantment brings about the desired result, for the bard sees the drow momentarily wince in pain, and place a hand to his head,
(Because drow 3 is removed from the bridge, Szefarian will need to modify his action. Varis may act as welll,)
Clearly forces work against the slaver, as the guard plummets before he can grab anything. Damn!
Jorlan's next, so Szefarian tries his luck again, grabbing at their conspirator's weapon with his impromptu silken snare. "You wouldn't happen to have a whip on you too, would you?" he hisses in the drow dialect. It's intended as a taunt, but perhaps the spurned little fool is of a like mind. In any case, he needs something more!
Varis follows the others out of the pens and up toward the rope bridge. He feels an invisible weight lifted as he crosses the threshold of the slave pen and he feels a connection with his magic restored. Flexing his hands as they are released from the manacles, he sends a bolt of eldritch energy toward Drow 4.
(25 to hit, 12 damage rolled in game log.)
He briefly glances at the Drow fleeing to the south, but realizes there is little he can do to prevent them from getting reinforcements. “Hurry and grab what we can before those two return.”
Jorlan offers only feigned resistance to Szefarian. The drow struggles momentarily to maintain possession of his hand crossbow but eventually allows Szefarian to take it. Behind Jorlan, a drow guard (#4) absorbs the full brunt of Varis's eldritch blast, which finishes the job that Zilly began. The drow falls lifeless to the bridge walkway. The drow guard that Monar shoved overboard can be seen below, struggling to slash himself free of the webbing.
To the north, Derendil is attempting to set his claws upon the two drow at the guard station. They attempt to respond in kind with their shortswords. Tarnstrak and Treacle are preparing to clamber over the railing and fall to the webs below. Jimjar, Ront, and Buppido are rushing northward as well. Eldeth and Sarith decide to stay near the rope bridge in hopes of gaining access to the armor. Stool remains hesitant just inside the prisoners' gate.
The two drow to the south continue their path toward the reinforcements.
Round 1 has concluded. All players may act, in any order. Jorlan is disarmed (his shortsword is not drawn). Szefarian now wields a hand crossbow loaded with one poison-tipped bolt.
Szefarian aims at Jorlan but makes a show to keep his finger off the trigger. Speaking in a low voice, he asks the spurned elf simply, "I assume your patsy's set to take the fall?" He narrows his eyes and widens his smile in a rather sinister show of mirth.
"...Or perhaps you were hoping to join us on our little escape? Hehe."
He doesn't know who might be watching, so he's willing to play things out, for now. Still, he watches for any reactions from the smarmy little traitor on what his next move may be.
Szefarian does his best to read the drow warrior who has unexpectedly become a key player in this life-and-death situation. Jorlan seems uninterested in harming Szefarian and responds, "My motives are my own, and, no, I'll not be joining your party of escapees."
Zilly will cast Vicious Mockery on one of the Drow engaged with Derendil, hoping to offer any assistance.
Wis DC 14, Damage: 4
Zilly will then move into the armory, on the way, if the Drow that is dead has a hand crossbow, Zilly will grab it and any bolts that seem obvious, if it does not, he will ignore the dead Drow.
'Note to self, the slaver thinks, if he tries anything later, kill him.'
He then proceeds with the gnome to the armory.