Captured by the drow! You wouldn’t wish this fate upon anyone, yet here you are — locked in a dark cave, the cold, heavy weight of metal tight around your throat and wrists. You are not alone. Other prisoners are trapped in here with you, in an underground outpost far from the light of the sun. Your captors include a cruel drow priestess who calls herself Mistress Ilvara of House Mizzrym. Over the past several days, you’ve met her several times, robed in silken garments and flanked by two male drow, one of whom has a mass of scars along one side of his face and neck. Mistress Ilvara likes to impress her will with scourge in hand and remind you that your life now belongs to her. “Accept your fate, learn to obey, and you may survive.” Her words echo in your memory, even as you plot your escape.

The cell is getting full, along with the four of you are 3 deep gnomes, a quaggoth, a derro, dwarf, orc, a sullen drow, a kuo-toa, and a tiny myconid sprout. No-one's really talked to anyone much yet, as the days have been long and filled with Ilvara's scourge, poisoned crossbow bolts, and regular beatings from the guards. Today's been kind of a light day, though...maybe they're growing tired of torture.

Karys rolls over onto her back, groaning in pain from the many bruises and lacerations that now cover her body. How long has it been since she was captured? A week? Two? She doesn't know. Time has no meaning in this lightless place. Rousing herself from a fitful sleep, Karys slowly pushes herself up into a sitting position. It's almost impossible to get comfortable with the chains binding her wrists, let alone her neck. The pain is nearly constant as well. As one injury heals, Mistress Ilvara is quick to inflict two more. Karys never thought she would miss the darkness of the Shadowfell, but now she feels only a deep, aching homesickness and regret. Why had she ever left?

If the spell hadn't gone awry, she'd be in Neverwinter right now. She'd be free. It's hard not to curse the name of the sleazy wizard who promised her freedom and took an enormous sum of gold for his services. In hindsight it was a mistake to trust him, but Karys had been so eager to see Faerun, to stand in the sun and feel its warmth. But this place was far from the sun, far from any light at all. As a Shadar-kai, her body was better suited to this dark place than some of her fellow prisoners, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it. 

Not for the first time, Karys tests the strength of the manacles upon her wrists, trying to twist her hands in such a way as to slip out of them, but the effort is futile as always. She sighs deeply and tries not to let the tears that have formed in her eyes fall down her cheeks. 

Sleight of Hand - 6

Dagna "Runescar" Ironbeard sits against the damp stone wall of the slave pen, her broad-shouldered frame hunched slightly under the weight of iron manacles. A Dwarf wizard and scribe, she was taken three days ago while tracking ancient dwarven script in a forgotten ruin near the Underdark’s edge—only to be ambushed by drow slavers. Now, her deep blue robes, once embroidered with silver runes, are tattered and stained, her silver-streaked auburn hair, still braided, falling loose around her round face. Her amethyst eyes remain sharp, watching the cell’s other prisoners with quiet calculation. The runic brands on her forearms lack their usual blue glow due to whatever is suppressing her magic here. But even in chains, Dagna endures.

She listens, learns, observes—not just her captors, but the others imprisoned alongside her: the muttering deep gnomes, the restless quaggoth, the wary orc, the tiny myconid sprout that trembles with something like awareness. Mistress Ilvara and her scourge have tried to break them, but today has been a light day, the guards seemingly content to let them sit in silence. A mistake. Drow grow careless when they grow comfortable. She may not have her magic, but she still has her mind—and in the Underdark, knowledge is power.

A spider, black and velvety, the size of her palm, crawls along her shoulder, its presence oddly comforting. It had come to her the first night and never truly left, scuttling off to hunt only to return, as if drawn to her.

Perception: 9

A shadow sits at the corner of the cell. Wait, the shadows are in a different corner. Small chains jingle as Nacht sits up. The small thri-kreen's chitin seems to repel light, and its tattered cloak is a matching color. Its eyes have remained empty since it was brought here, no soul or emotion behind them. If not for the bindings on it, it would be practically invisible in this darkness. What an odd little creature.

Nacht looks toward the myconid. Its eyes still are nearly impossible to read, but it seems... hungry? 

As Karys pulls herself into a sitting position, her hand brushes against something. She glances down and frowns. Picking up the item, she holds it close to her face. She feels a glimmer of hope. It's a piece of rope. Strong by the feel of it and about five feet long. She quickly pulls it close to herself, prepared to hide it if a guard shows themselves. They are supposed to be fed their meager mushroom gruel soon. 

The Shadar-kai glances around the cave. Her eyes land first on a female dwarf, sitting with her back against a wall. Despite their circumstances, she doesn't look broken or resigned to their fate. This elicits another flicker of hope. If enough of them were to resist, perhaps they could overcome their captors. Maybe even when the guard comes to feed them. Karys' attention is drawn next to what she at first took to be a moving shadow. Looking more closely, she realizes it's some sort of insectoid creature she's never seen before. She has no idea what it is, but, as a fellow prisoner, she is more inclined to affinity with this strange creature than with their Drow captors. 

Karys purses her lips, thinking. Then she crawls over next to the dwarven woman and sits with her back against the same wall. She raises the rope so that the other woman can see. 

Edwin:

A large man with dirty skin and matted reddish hair, this peasant seems unusually alert in the darkness for someone looking much like a human.  His eyes focusing on various cellmates in the darkness give away his ancestry as something not completely human, though his simple homespun clothes and rough hands mark him as a laborer of some kind--a craftsman or farmer, perhaps.  He has said little since he arrived in the cell 7 days ago, but the big man appears to suffer hardship with a dogged determination, and he chances a nod at the others who are looking around....perhaps escape is on their mind as well.

Dagna’s amethyst eyes flick to the piece of rope as the Shadar-kai woman settles beside her, holding it just enough for her to see. A small, grim smile tugs at the corner of her lips—a resource, simple but invaluable. Her gaze drifts up, scanning Karys' face, measuring the fire still burning there. Good. A will unbroken is a weapon sharper than any blade. Without a word, Dagna shifts slightly, angling herself toward the others, as if adjusting for comfort but truly preparing for what comes next. She doesn’t nod, doesn’t acknowledge the plan aloud—the walls have ears, after all.

The quiet jingle of chains draws her gaze toward the odd little insectoid, almost invisible in the dark, and then to the large, red-haired man who has weathered his own torment with silent endurance. His nod does not go unnoticed and she nods back with silent resolve.

Edwin:

The tip of a silken rope segment sticks out of Edwin’s shirt briefly, until he repositions it more tightly around his mid-section like a belt worn under his shirt.

”I have been provided with a gorget, vambraces, and a baldric, though unfortunately connected by chains,” thinks the hardy farmer.  He tests the chains by flexing his arms, trying to find leverage or any weakness in the links of the chains.

Athletics:  24

*those chains are about to snap like twigs*

Nacht carefully moves its chains into its cloak, then tries to weaken them while out of view. 

*idk whether this would be stealth, sleight of hand, or something else*

Noticing the others trying to loosen their bonds, Dagna turns her attention to examining hers as well as the cell around them for any sign of what exactly is suppressing her magic. If she can break or even weaken it escape should be child's play.

Investigation: 25

Karys notices the red-haired man trying to free himself from his bonds, and she decides to give it another try as well. Before she had just tried to slip out of them, but what if it was really a matter of strength? She hasn't tried that before, and Karys has well-defined muscle from her years as a guard, training with blade and bow. She tries to pull the manacles off with pure force.

Athletics - 11

Try as she might, Karys can't seem to slip her bonds or find a weak point to break them. The solid iron is unyielding and cold.

Edwin, however, proves more than a match for his chains, and after a few seconds of great force the chains snap and his arms are no longer restrained. The rest of the prisoners look up at him, surprised, and some glance at the door, a little fearful.

Nacht can make a strength (athletics) check to break them, or a sleight of hand check to slip out of the cuffs.

Dagna can't see anything specifically that's blocking her magic...just an oppressive feeling. She suspects it's some sort of ward, which unfortunately means there's nothing she can do about it from here.

From outside, there's the sound of voices approaching, footsteps echoing through the caverns. Feeding time is here.

Athletics: 7

Dagna frowns in frustration at spotting nothing, but her eyes widen when she looks over at the metallic breaking sound and sees the redhead has freed his arms. Amazing! The elf next to her seems less lucky, but the dwarf gets an idea. Leaning in to whisper into the woman's ear, she says, "Nevermind that. The rope. When they bring the broth, wrap it around one of their throats and we'll both pull."

Quote from The_DragonTamer >>

Athletics: 7

Nacht takes the chains back out of its cloak, expecting the metal to be eaten away by its shadow. Instead, the chains glow slightly and tighten. It makes a frustrated noise. 

Edwin:

Quickly arranging the chains so they appear to be still intact, Edwin affects a bored and defeated countenance, but inside he is poised to act should the opportunity present itself.

Four drow appear, three of the regular guards carrying trays full of bowls, and one of the elites. You recognize him...Shoor. Cruel for cruelty's sake, it seems. He's been the main source of a lot of the pain you've endured over the last week or so.

He unlocks the door, opening it outward and letting the three guards set their trays down inside the cell. Eat, put your bowls back outside. Don't make us come in there, you'll regret it. The now familiar threat is given as the drow enter the cell, setting the trays on the ground just inside.

Karys nods at the dwarven woman and holds the rope in her hands, waiting for the right moment. The guards enter to place their bowls down just inside the cave, but that's not close enough. The Shadar-kai has an idea. 

"I don't feel so good," she moans, clutching her stomach. Suddenly, she starts shaking, as if she's having a fit of some sort. All the while she holds the rope tightly in her hands, waiting for one of the guards to come in and check on her.

Performance - 2 -_-