Aimon steadies himself a moment while keeping his eyes on Tz'zarg. 

"Who are you?" Aimon finally asks. "Seems only polite to at least let me know who's really making threats and holding my mother's life over me."

He sniffs the wine, checking to see if Tz'zarg has done anything to it.

(Perception: 24  )

"And what's so special about the node? Sure, I like seeing an angry dragon wreck havoc on their captors as much as the next guy, but what's it to you?"

“That depends how their little... conversation goes,” Caelynn replies shortly. Her weight is in the balls of her feet, hands still hovering over her weapons. She listens carefully for any raised voices or sounds of a fight breaking out in the other room.

Perception: 22

((Pictures posted))

You don't think anything has happened to the wine.

Tz'zarg shrugs and says, "Fair enough." He sets down the wine bottle, and you watch as the drow melt away and he replaced by something truly terrible. The appearance of the Dark Prince is a warning that not all beautiful things are good. Standing nearly 9' tall, Graz'zt strikes the perfect figure of untamed desire, every plane and curve of his body, every glance of his burning eyes, promising a mixture of pleasure and pain. A subtle wrongness pervades his beauty, from the cruel cast of his features to the 6 fingers on each hand and 6 toes on each foot. You see he has four arms, and a long, curved blade rests in a scabbard at his side. His demonic, yet beautiful face grins as he says, "Like what you see?"

 He looks down upon you in his true form and says, "I am Graz'zt, Prince of Pleasure, and ruler of the 257th layer of the Abyss. You don't need to know the reasons for my interests."

Aimon's mouth goes dry as Tz'zarg transforms into Graz'zt. He looks down at the wine goblet in his hand, lifts it to his mouth and drains the contents in one gulp. My father warned me about asking questions that I wasn't prepared for the answer to, Aimon thinks to himself.

Aimon nods like his head is on a spring, his mind frantically telling himself to wake up from his nightmare. Realizing that he is awake and looking at a full fledged demon lord, Aimon eventually sighs, letting his shoulders sag a little.

"Well, I suppose there is such a thing as knowing too much. Shortens your lifespan, I hear," Aimon says then pauses. "So, nodes, eh? I guess we best get back to the others and here the derro's plan."

He looks down at his empty wine glass, and then back up to Graz'zt.

"I suppose there's not much point in trying to make a deal here, is there? We help with the nodes, and you let us all go and leave our families and friends alone, that kind of thing?"

Aimon takes a step towards the door, watching Graz'zt to make sure it's okay to go back. 

And then he finds he can't help but think that he wants the jeweled broach Graz'zt has been wearing as Tz'zarg more than anything now. 

Oak is still relatively calm. Calm and not exhausted... the sensation doesn’t go unnoticed to him. ‘Maybe the underdark suits me...’, he thinks distractedly to himself, ‘...or maybe that’s just what it wants me to think!...’. He shakes his head slightly, to dismiss both thoughts, a gesture he normally consciously tries to avoid for fear of looking like a simple dairy cow...

To bring himself back to the moment, he looks around the rooms he can see and thinks tactics... He’s looking for anything that looks like it might set off a catastrophic chain-reaction: naked flames next to barrels of volatile liquid, anything glass that might contain powders and potions that look like they shouldn’t go together...

”What is all this stuff? What do you do here?”, he asks the old derro.

Graz'zt nods at Aimon's assessment and says, "For the most part. After this little... task, I might have you run some errands for me. You know, keeping me informed on what happens, "remove" a few certain obstacles, and a few other things." He shrinks down into his drow disguise. A large smile plasters his elven face as he says, "Let's talk to the others, shall we?" He stretches out his arm and opens the door.

 Grigi eyes the large minotaur with a look of academic interest before he says, "I'm not allowed to go into details, but we produce chemical weapons." You think that a few of the supplies lying about could explore if somebody damaged them, but since you're not really an alchemist, you're not sure.

After only about a minute or so, the door opens, and out steps a shaken Aimon and a smiling Tz'zarg. Grigi asks the pair, "Is everything alright?"

 Tz'zarg chuckles warmly and says, "It was just a simple misunderstanding. No harm done!" He casually throws his arm across Aimon's shoulders in a friendly gesture. He asks Grigi, "What did our guests decide?"

 "They said they were waiting on what their companion had to say before they decided."

 Tz'zarg cocks and eyebrow and says, "Is that so? Well, what do you got to say, my dear friend?" He casually shakes you with his arm in a friendly manner.

Aimon sighs again and then looks at each of his companions for a moment. He feels dirty doing this but if he doesn’t agree, his mother is dead and probably all of his friends too. Hopefully he can explain later.

”Harm is fairly subjective, no?” says Aimon, before he takes another breath and continues. “I think taking out the nodes and freeing the dragon is our best bet at putting an end to the slave trade in this city. We need to bring the whole government down.”

He moves to the side to get out from under the arm draped around his shoulders. Focus on one task at a time he tells himself.

Then he looks over at Drokki and Grigi.

”Drokki said he could show us how to free slaves. Is that true?”

Drokki exclaims, "Yes! You have to put in a code, but first you need to take out the node."

Grigi nods and says, "You could also get a keystone."

Tz'zarg says, "So, you guys in? "

Trill cocks her head, considering, then pipes up in Drokki's voice, even producing his rhyming cadence.

"Everyone under the Druergar could be free,  I help you... you help me."

Oak looks around at his companions, seeing some reluctantly agree to help. He looks at Caelynn, who hasn’t spoken yet. She looks the most reluctant.

Eventually Oak speaks, “I think we might be able to agree to some kind of trade of services rendered. You scratch our back and we scratch yours, so to speak...”.

”We need some specific slaves freed. And I need some information: I need to know where a Minotaur slave was taken from... around forty winters ago”. He looks at the Drow, “You sir, look a man of the world... you must have seen colonies of Minotaur? Are they overseas? I need a location that’s all”.

He waits for a response, and also looks around to see if any others have specific conditions for the deal...

Aimon looks at the others and listens to what Oak has asked.

"They'll give us as much information as possible, but we really do need to take out the nodes." Aimon says. "If you choose not to, I've still agreed and, let's just say I can't back out of that now."

"I guess we're doing this." Caelynn's tone makes it obvious that she's not happy about the situation. Her eyes are still locked with suspicion on the 'drow', though she's not sure that's even what he is, trying to discern anything she can about his intentions. "We help you, you help us, and then we never see each other again."

Insight: 5

((Sorry for that delay. We're remodeling the house))

Tz'zarg deception: 21

Caelynn, you don't get anything from the drow. He hides his emotions too well.

Grigi claps his hands together and says, "Well, that settled it. Let me go grab some supplies." He excuses himself and goes into the room Aimon was just in. 

 Tz'zarg raises an eyebrow and says, "I do remember a minotaur here that was auctioned her in the markets a long time ago, but I have no idea where they could be. They could be dead for all I know."

 Grigi comes back out holding four silver amulets. Dangling from each amulet is a gem made of carefully cut obsidian. He hands one to each of you and says, "These are called Remembrance Gems. If you hold the gem and says "cloak me in days forgotten," it will obscure your features. If you say "remember me," then your appearance becomes normal. We will be using them on the assault. Meet us here in two days from now on the 7th bell of the morning so we can discuss tactics. You can see yourself out." With that, he climbs up the ladder and begins tinkering with bottles of chemicals. Drokki scurried away towards the large copper tank and shrinks down to run through a crack in the wall. Tz'zarg watches you with a cocky smile as you turn to exit.

What do you do?

Oak tries one more time, for information, before preparing to leave. He looks a little haunted, but takes half a step towards the drow, “You were here then?... The.. the Minotaur... Could it have been me?? My colouring? ..I would have been young...”.

And then, “Who was the slave-master at the time? The buyer? Anyone?... and where are they now?...?.. ...”. A million question brim up in his mind but he knows he’s outstayed his welcome already. That doesn’t stop the plea from showing in his glassy black eyes...

Trill has a question she is at a loss to articulate, so jots it down and tugs on Oaks sleeve and hands him her journal open to the most recent page.

Is there a limit to how often the Remembrance Gems can be used? You and I stick out in the crowd, they'd be handy to use leading up to whatever goes down in two days too...

When Trill shows Oak the note, he says, “Good thinking!...”, and asks Grigi the same thing.

From within his lab, you hear him say over the tinkling of vials, "They can be used for 7 hours a week. Anymore than that and they break."

 Tz'zarg responds to Oak's previous questions with, "Look, kid, you could have been there, but I have no idea. My memory isn't prefect."

Aimon slips the Remembrance Gem amulet around his neck and leaves the chamber. While waiting for the rest to join him he takes a look around the tunnels he's standing in, seeing if there was anything they missed when they rushed to follow Drokki.

(Perception: 26  )

"Memory isn't perfect, my ass," Aimon says quietly to himself. "I'm going bet he hasn't forgotten a thing in a millennia."

Caelynn takes one of the amulets, but stuffs it in her pocket instead of putting it around her neck. Perhaps an unnecessary measure of caution, but she isn't willing to take any risks with this. She follows Aimon out, waiting until the group is out of earshot of the room to speak. "That wasn't a drow, was it?" The words are quiet, and sound more like a statement than a question.

"Nope, not even close," Aimon begins in a very quiet voice. "More of a relative of that octopus armed, two-headed, giant baboon demon back in Sloobludop."

He looks back over his shoulder to make sure no one else is listening in.

"He said his name was Graz'zt, and he was the demon lord of some level of the Abyss. I don't know what he's doing slumming around here, but we're screwed. We cross him and he'll kill us and everyone we've ever known."

He sighs, then shrugs.

"Any chance your dream queen has been by lately with new ideas on how we're supposed to take on full fledged demon lords?"