The Unseen Servant forums

Ornthalas Venlen

Beats sitting around, doing nothing. Maybe I can lift the keys.

Raknar - Dwarf Ranger

Wisdom: [1d20+2] = 11+2 = 13, [1d3] = 2

"That's the spirit, Eldeth! We'll take a few of them down with us."

Sabyllos Wisdom [1d20+1] = 9+1 = 10 [1d3] = 3

Thoril

[1d20] = 18+1=19

[1d3] = 1

Brana

Wisdom saving throw [1d20+5] = 11+5 = 16
[1d3] = 2

"This is a dark place with foul energy all about. The Drow want to break everyone's spirit Eldeth. Your dream is not real or a prediction of the future. Keep faith and we all will do what we can and we will escape this place."

Ornthalas Venlen

Birbal Fistmaul
The remaining dwarf opens his eyes from his seated position. His simple brown robes dirty and torn from some struggle easily assumed to be when he was captured. "My apologies to all for my silence. It was not my intention to offend and I hope I have not done so. My capture by the drow has shaken me to my core and meditation was needed to even my temperament. My name is Birbal Fistmaul. Doubtful that any of you will recognize the Fistmaul clan as it is not a clan as such, we take the name as a shared community of our temple, relinquishing title and claims to our old clans. My companion," he indicates the myconid nearby, "and I were captured by surprise while we were away from the temple compound proper. I was able to subdue a couple before the mass of them overpowered me and put us to sleep."

After a bit more conversation, you settle down to rest. Some of you sleep well, some not so much.

In the morning, you are summoned to various duties around the outpost (see your individual topics).

After a hard day's work, you are all brought back to your cells, where you each receive a cold bowl of mushroom soup which seems to have been prepared with little care.

Sabyllos stretches and moans and looks shocked to find a crop of blisters on his hands and feet—the young half-elf is clearly not used to even moderate physical labor.

After doing his best to elicit sympathy from the other prisoners (oblivious to the fact that they were also working at least as hard), he settles to business, comparing notes about the layout of the compound and sharing observations about the movements of their captors.

He shares with those that seem most keenly interested in escape his assessment of his fellow workers. "Shuushar is passive to the point of self-destruction, and the Drow is steadfast in his refusal to engage. Jimjar and Ront are game, however."

Brana

Brana will also share her information (not much). "I feel we should act soon. Any ideas?"

Sabyllos: "Agreed. The morning, when they release us from the cell, seems like the obvious time. But there are several impediments. One: I need to know who has the key to our manacles. I hope to be able to persuade them to open at least one set. Two: The damned quaggoths. There's too many of them. But there is only one point of entry to their cave. If we could arrange for that to be blocked in some way, the drow would be outnumbered and outpowered. Three: Has anyone actually found an exit from this damned place?"

Raknar - Dwarf Ranger

"The way out's gotta be through the barracks. There's a hole in the floor there, but beats me where it goes."

He points toward Derendil.

"That quaggoth there thinks he's some elven prince. He may have a screw loose, but he could help us with the other quaggoths."

Ornthalas Venlen

We should maybe not discuss this in front of everyone. Let's go back as far from the door as we can get. He tries getting everyone he feels will help that he can trust to gather in the back of the cave. Shuusar seems uninterested and he does not trust the Drow, so he wants to keep him away. He approaches the Myconid. Stool, can you do that thing with the spores so we can communicate when we're all together?

Stool waddles along with Ornthalas and his trusted group (who so far sounds like the pcs... did you want to include any npcs besides Stool?) into the back of the cave. Stool contracts, and a puff of dust emerges. Moments later, you begin to hear each other's thoughts in your heads.

Ornthalas:

As you ponder your next move, still connected by the link, several Quaggoth begin congregating around the entrance to the cell.

A short time later, Ilvara, the Drow priestess, shows up. With her are her two lieutenants, the handsome and confident Shoor, and the scarred and disfigured Jorlan.

She gives an order, in Undercommon, to Shoor. Because of your connection to one another, you can all understand... “Bring him to me!”

Shoor pulls out a keyring, unlocks the door, and opens it. Four Quaggoth enter the cell, and move to the drow prisoner. They grab him and drag him forward, and throw him at the feet of the priestess.

Let me know if you want to intervene or do anything. If not, I'll continue with this interaction tomorrow...

Thoril watches the creatures drag the prisoner and toss him down. He wants to intervene but is hesitant yet without knowing more about what's going on...

Ornthalas Venlen

Hey! Glad to see you're taking your spy out of here. You must think we're even dumber than you are if you didn't think we'd realize he was a plant. It's true what they say- lack of sunshine really does rot your brain! I guess it makes sense; if your superiors had any confidence in you, they wouldn't have stuck you in this shitehole! As the elf verbally assaults the priestess, he is looking to see if any of their captors inadvertently look toward the real spy.

Brana

Catching on to Ornthalas' ploy Brana tries to watch for any reaction from the priestess.

Perception [1d20+3] = 17+3 = 20