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 communal slave pen is a simple cave crudely carved into the side of an underground cliff, barely illuminated by phosphorescent fungi clinging to some of the walls. In the days you've spent there you have come to recognize your fellow prisoners:
Buppido: a talkative derro that looks at others in disdain.
Derendil: a quaggoth that claims to be a cursed elven prince and speaks fluent elvish.
Eldeth Feldrun: a mountain dwarf scout captured by drow.
Jimjar: a deep gnome that likes to make all kinds of bets.
Ront: a tall and angry orc, he distrusts most people, specially Eldeth and other dwarves.
Sarith Kzekarith: a male drow imprisoned for murder.
Shuushar the Awakened: a pacifist Kuo-toa constantly bullied by Ront.
Stool: a myconid sprout looking for someone to protect it.
Topsy and Turvy: deep gnome twins that mostly keep to each other.

The drow keep you fed, and under a locked door at all times. The few spellcasters in your group have noticed that the cell is magically warded against magic and spells fail when casted inside it.

Suddenly a guard open the gate and point to three two people seemingly at random: Suushar, Buppido and Sarith. "Time to clean the waste pit, maggots" he signals them to follow and the trio pair walks out with him. The door closes with a loud clang after they exit, leaving you to yourselves for the moment.

     "Thunk have spider!" Thunk announces in an oddly upbeat and happy voice after digging through the tangled mess of thick, black hair that grows haphazardly on his head and palming the spider that was nesting inside.  Thunk beams a smile out for all to see.  "Thunk gunna name it Thunkers!"

     "What you think of Thunkers?" Thunk asks, moving as close to Ront as he can get and holding out his big spider pal for the other Orc to see.  "You like Thunk's Thunkers, yes?"

Never again.

The fatalistic voice inside his head whispers grimly.  Never again would Tanis Shaidaro of Icewind Dale range so far ahead of his detachment.  Never again would he chase those damn duergar into the bowels of the earth under Sunblight Fortress, the gray dwarves forever going invisible and changing size, before being themselves suddenly routed by the dark elven warriors whom Tanis then promptly failed to hide from.  Never again would he taste his smiling mother's warm baked bread back in Caer Dineval or roll his eyes as his half-elven father explained to him (in the excruciating detail of a lifelong fletcher) the exact purpose and importance of an arrow's tiniest components.  Never again would Tanis see sheriff Markham Southwell's typical stern, disapproving look, one the old man surely wore, perhaps this very moment, as he learned the blundering fate and shameful capture of his erstwhile scout.

Tanis hangs his dark-haired head briefly, then rouses himself as his eyes adjust.  Breathing and reaching out with his darkvision and all senses as he remembers from his training, stretching his wiry olive-complexioned arms and legs slowly to start the flow of blood again.  Though who could see color down here anyway to distinguish a hue such as olive? Tanis had known the darkness of long winter in the Ten Towns.  Time to watch and listen.

Strange group of prisoners, this.  Even stranger than he had expected.  Unless he misses his guess, several are from the the Underdark, not surface-dwellers as Tanis is.  Was.

But some are from the surface.  As a quarter elf, Tanis naturally gravitates towards the recently-arrived half elf.  He also considers the surface gnome, another recent arrival, and different from the deep gnomes imprisoned here.  The two mountain dwarves had be from the surface as well and seemed trustworthy.  The cleric of Moradin and the scout.  Both had already been in the slave pen when Tanis harrived several days ago.  Potential allies perhaps?

The orcs, Tanis is far less sure of.  One tall one seems a brute and a bully, and the other has only just arrived a day ago and already seems to have a pet spider that he is beaming about.  Perhaps not a bully then, that one, Thunk by name with his pet Thunkers?  Still, Tanis remains wary of both orcs.

Talking had never been Tanis' strong suit.  Still, he determines that soon, he would need to speak quietly to each one of them.  Together. Or safer one-on-one, could be.  But he can't keep his eyes off the others.  The ones from the depths.

Drow as prisoners of drow.  Tanis has trouble wrapping his head around that, but why in the hells not?  Every race and background imprisoned some of their own.  For what crime, Tanis wondered?  And beyond them, figures even stranger, with the deep gnomes perhaps being the most familiar.  Under his breath, Tanis thanks Tymora that he had learned Undercommon as part of his training.

These deep dwellers may be the key to any possibility of escape if they are so inclined. And of subsequent survival for certain - they will know the Underdark far better than I. If they have not lost their minds already, as I surely will lose mine in time, down here in the darkness.

He wonders when he would see even the wan sun of Icewind Dale again, fish for knucklehead trout on frigid Lac Dinneshere, relax with fellow guardsmen over a pint at the Northlook in Bryn Shander.  When?  There is no answer save for the distant dripping of water in the darkness, the occasional shuffling of his fellow prisoners.  And, as ever, the self-mocking fatalistic voice whispering inside his head, beckoning like madness.  When would Tanis ever be free?

Never again.

Arokas lays on the ground, his hair and fingers caked with mud that hasn’t been clean in years. Sitting up and seeing Thunk and his new pet, he sighs. “It’s going to die like your other one,” his raspy voice shouts across. “Might as well toss it away before it bites you and kills you.”

Drogen looks over his fellow prisoners and wonders if any would be helpful in escaping this place. And then goes back to scratching another notch on the cave wall with a shard of flint. He puts it away when finished and mumbles to himself, "9 days.... 9 days in this hole. When will you answer my prayers Moradin? Have I offended thee?"

Ront looks at Thunk and replies in orc "maybe I'll like it better when I'm hungry" baring huge tusks.

(Bizm, Deep Gnome Wizard)

Bizm does what she does every time the guards leave (undercommon) "Okay, so what's the plan. There's got to be a chink in the chain somewhere right? Is it overconfidence? Intimidation? What do we do to get us all out of here?"

She starts fiddling with her braids in contemplation

Tanis replies quietly to Bizm in his rusty Undercommon:  "A plan, yes, and patience.  We will never just walk out of here.  The drow are not stupid, and this prison is secure.  If there is an opening... a rift among the drow, some unexpected ally or a distraction...  the Underdark is full of danger that could divert their attention as you well know.  If and when that happens we need a plan as you say.  Until then, we need to lie low and stick together."

He looks around, noting the silver lining that every single individual in the slave pen likely has darkvision, with the possible exception of Stool, the sentient fungi, who probably has blindsight.  Thank Tymora for small favors.

He tries to speak privately to what he hopes is the beginning of a group of allies.  The deep gnome who had spoken, Bizm, the half-elf Arokas, however resigned he sounds, the two dwarves, Drogen and Eldeth.

Switching between Dwarvish, Elvish or Undercommon as needed to repeat the words he had said to the deep gnome, his voice drops to a whisper.  "I am Tanis Shaidaro, scout of the Bryn Shander guard in the Ten Towns.  My father is a half-elf as you are."  (Looking at Arokas).  "We need steady allies who know the Underdark." (Looking at Bizm).  "In Icewind Dale, my home, the dwarves in the valley by Kelvin's Cairn are both honorable and skilled. I count them as my friends."  (Looking at Drogen and Eldeth).  "When darkness imprisons us, those of good will and honor should stand together.  Agreed?"

We'll need the others too.  Even the orcs maybe, though I do not trust Ront.  Perhaps the other one with the spider, Thunk.  Even the mushroom, Stool.

In dwarvish, "Aye, I have no desire to be in this hole any longer. Been too long as it is. I need to be getting back to me forge. Not opposed to cracking  some drow skulls if it gets me home."

Jimjar hears Bizm's muttering and whispers back in undercommon "us svirfneblin have to stick together, right?" he scratches his bald head and continues with a sly smile "I'd wager half my rations for tonight that those orcs are strong enough to break their chains if we can make them angry enough."

Eldeth nods at Drogen's words "agreed, my king will need to hear my report. Drow don't usually dwell near my patrol area and that speaks trouble for everyone."

Arokas looks over at Tanis, his eyes tired and weary. “Sure, I guess I could help,” he says in Elvish. “Got nothing to do in here anyways, except come up with some dark poetry. A shining drop of light/Would hardly reach this pen/Surrounded by darkness/Which consumes yet again. Being out of this place wouldn’t be much better, but at least I’d have freedom.” Arokas shakes his head.

Arokas tries something with his fingers, moving them in some sort of pattern, but grunts when it fails. “But I can’t really do much in these cells. If I were able to get out, I might be able to cause some kind of distraction.” 

Quote from Seldim >>

Jimjar hears Bizm's muttering and whispers back in undercommon "us svirfneblin have to stick together, right?" he scratches his bald head and continues with a sly smile "I'd wager half my rations for tonight that those orcs are strong enough to break their chains if we can make them angry enough."

 (Bizm)

"I don't disagree, but I don't believe we have any way to convince them not to kill us first." Bizm says politically

In Undercommon, Arokas whispers to the gnomes, “Well, unless we could persuade them to let us go, or come up with a darn good lie as to why we are out of our cells, I think our best bet is to sneak out.”

     "This is other one!" Think insists to Arokas with the confidence of the clueless.  "Thunk's friend woke up is all," Thunk continues but turns away from the half-elf to shield Thunkers the spider from his mean words.

     "Thunk friend a spider," Thunk tells Ronk with a suspicious tone, like a child who believes they are being tricked.  "Thunk friend not have food..." Thunk eyes Ront suspiciously for moment to try to figure out what the other Orc is up to... But in the history of figuring things out Thunk has never been a part of any of it.  Eventually Thunk moves back to his spot and sits and watched Thunkers crawl over his hands until Thunk forgets what he is doing and just stares off into space waiting for the next thing that makes him alert again.

     Later, when the tiny little dark gnome guy speaks up, Thunk's thoughts spark once again.  "Thunk is an Orc," Thunk points out in response to the little one saying Orcs could break their chains and Thunk tries pulling his hands apart from one another to try to break the chain between them.

Strength check? 14 rolled in Game Log.

"Aye, no good ever comes from drow." Drogen replies to Eldeth, then notices what Thunk is attempting and remarks. "Good luck with that. If it was that easy, I would have broke my mine already 9 days ago." And mocks his attempt with his own chains.

Strength: 23

     Thunk laughs at Drogen and think it is a game.  Thunk raises up his hands and tries again, this time making a show of it.

((If a second attempt is allowed - Strength 10 ))

"It may come to that," Tanis admits.  "Breaking our chains and forcing our way out.  But the drow would have to be idiots not to be well-guarded against that.  We have to bide our time and wait for a distraction or some other opening.  Act meek and then jump someone who comes in here with the keys, maybe.  But if we do any of that without some outside distraction or opening, it probably won't work.  For now, we should be patient and act like obedient slaves and give them no reason to suspect us.  Maybe use our work details as to look for possible routes if escape."  He pauses, looking for reactions.

"And if and when we escape, we will still be in the Underdark.  Likely chased by drow.  Like many from the surface, I do not know this place.  But some of you do."  He looks at Jimjar, the wager-happy deep gnome, then speaks in Undercommon with a wan smile:  "I bet you a gold piece (once I get one again) that you know the Underdark better than I do."  He turns to the others.  "If we are to have a chance, we have to work together wait for the opening."

Bizm turns to the strength contest "Please, save your strength, we'll need it later"

“Well, until then I guess we should wait,” Arokas says, looking around at the group of prisoners. “Unless there’s something in here that may help us get out of here.” He looks around his surroundings, trying to find anything that may help them in their attempt to break out.

Perception: 6

"Agreed. Working together is our only hope of getting out of this place." Drogen remarks.