Arca Wormbane |
"To call you interesting is an understatement, master Giseil," Anklebiter says, genuine warmth in his voice. "This spell is ingenious and innovative. I would be honoured to shake your hand, should you allow me to do so."
DM Bigrin |
It was the work of a quarter hour, less even, and t he five of you stood as drow. It was at that point that you realized your disguises went beyond the physical. The daylight leaking in under the tent flap dazzled your sensitive eyes. You feel slightly more agile and adept with your hands. The rapiers and handcrossbows piled in a corner seem natural to you, and you feel that you would be able to use them with confidence. Strange magical feelings seemed to lurk in the back of your minds, as if you had learned new spells or skills instantly. When Anklebiter spoke to Gisiel, the syllables that came out of his new mouth were foreign sounding, and yet were as clear a speech as any you had heard.
The gray elf shook his head and said, "I don't speak drow. Use common. Language and vision should not be a problem, now, and you have likely picked up a few other abilities native to the flesh of the drow you now wear. I would not suggest walking out into the sunlight until you get used to your new forms. Even then, daylight will disorient you. Congratulations, now I will be off. My work here is done and I have other business."
Arca Wormbane |
"Masterful," Anklebiter says, taking care to speak Common. "Truly masterful. Excellent work, Giseil; my compliments!"
Turning to the others, the Goblin-become-Drow grins merrily. "Nethys' shattered mask, but everything looks different at this height! I never imagined I'd ever be so tall!"
Hands on his hips, Anklebiter lets out a merry laugh...
Quevven Malaggar |
Are these traits replacing our own racial traits? Or are they in addition to them?
"I don't see that much of a difference," Bruendor replies to Anklebiter, his eyes widening at the higher tones in his voice. "Torag's t*ts, is that what I sound like now? That's going to take some getting used to."
Arca Wormbane |
"I'm usually looking up your noses when I look at you guys," Anklebiter says. "Trust me, being able to look you in the eye without you looking down at me is very different."
Staryth |
Lefrik touches his new face and looks for a reflective surface, "I'm not as enamored with this as you are, Anklebiter. I feel like a great sword shoved into a rapier's scabbard." He tries not to be alarmed by this new body, but it is clear that even association with a goblin wizard has not prepared him for things going this far.
Arca Wormbane |
"Keep in mind that it's only temporary, my friends," Anklebiter says in a soothing tone. "This will pass."
Calumny Tas'Vere |
Calla blinks in the light.
"Interesting," she says, her usual scowl seeming right at home on the drow's face. "I'd rather they knew who was coming to kill them, but I suppose if this will get the job done, it'll have to do."
We'll have to be careful that our SR can affect friendly spells. Also a creature can voluntarily lower its spell resistance. Doing so is a standard action that does not provoke an attack of opportunity. Once a creature lowers its resistance, it remains down until the creature's next turn. At the beginning of the creature's next turn, the creature's spell resistance automatically returns unless the creature intentionally keeps it down (also a standard action that does not provoke an attack of opportunity).
Arca Wormbane |
"If they knew who was coming, we'd be facing an army. Maybe you can tell some of them as they lie dying?" Anklebiter suggests, shrugging. "Besides, doesn't Calistria like trickery?"
Quevven Malaggar |
Apparently, they reprinted and updated the spell in Ultimate Intrigue, but I don't know what changes were made there yet. I'll speak with a friend that owns the book to discover the salient points - it might help shed some light on what's going on here.
Arca Wormbane |
"Hey, you're all used to this mess already," Anklebiter says, stroking his hair. "I didn't think I'd have head hair before I became an elder!"
Calumny Tas'Vere |
"Yes, we're all very handsome -- or not. Don't we have somewhere to be?" Calla asks, seeming little different as a drow from her natural state.
Just giving us a little bump; plus, I'm back. Let's go kill some drow!
DM Bigrin |
While you were admiring/vilifying your new bodies, and getting used to the way they sounded and moved, the grey elf disappeared. One moment he was there in the tent with you, and the next he was gone. Kaerishiel sighed as he saw your consternation, and said "And thus is always the way with Gisiel. As soon as he decides he is done speaking, he leaves. And now, I think it is time to prepare for the next phase."
"You are now drow. You were part of the battle here in Celwynvian, but when the elves got the upper hand, you went into hiding to wait for the gate to recharge. You watched from afar as the elves trried and failed to cleanse the portal, and when it recharged, you made a sudden assault, pushed past our defenders, and swiftly moved through the portal to the other side."
"As soon as you are through, a half regiment of my best troops will follow in pursuit ro further confuse the matter. If there are any drow on the other side of the gate, they will likely be more concerned with our 'invasion' than with any stragglers. This should buy you the time you need to lose yourse4lves among the chaos, and allow us to ensure that no more drow take advantage of the portal to return here. Once you are through, my men will return and close the portal. From there, you are on your own. Hopefully, you will be able to insinuate yourselves into the city. If questioned, keep your story simple and close enough to the truth to be able to keep the dtails straight."
"We are only going to get one shot at this, so no matter what confronts you through that gate, remember that we are the enemy and that there is no going back. Shoot at us if you have to, but try not to kill anyone."
"A runner said that the portal finished recharging this morning. If we want to do this before another group of drow tries coming back through the gate, we had better get going. Grab your gear!"
Arca Wormbane |
"Clothes!" Arca protests as he continues to struggle into a garment provided for him to replace his Goblin gear. "Almost - ready! Alright, let's go. Tell your troops to turn back when I cast a red-and-black fire in front of them. It'll be an illusion, but will give them a reason to turn back without any of us being killed."
Calumny Tas'Vere |
"Very well," Calla says with a tight smile. Let's go infiltrate the drow and kill this Allevrah. I suppose afterward we'll have to find our own way back to the surface and find someway to let you know of our success."
DM Bigrin |
Kaerishiel hustled you back to the Academy, a fell regiment of Shin'Rakorath mercenaries at your back. Once in the portal room, the soldiers laid out a series of wooden planks across the pool of water, making it easier to cross to the gate with speed.
"Are you ready? Once activated, the gate will only remain open for a few minutes. You will need to hustle through, with my men coming after in small squads. This will need to be a show of chaos, and ill-managed order, and we will act accordingly. Hopefully there are no drow on the other side, but hope is the refuge of the ill-prepared."
As soon as you indicate your readiness, a slight elf to one side pulls the activation key that you retrieved from Nolveniss from a pouch. At Kaerishiel's signal, he placed it against the keystone of the arch. The stone center of the archway began to become misty, then translucent, revealing a shadowy cavern beyond. As you run for the portal, an elven voice behind you shouts "Run dogs!" in Undercommon.
You burst through the gate into a dark caven. Ahead, you can see a small camp with a few tents and a collection of supplies. Word of the route in Celwynvian clearly had not reached the drow on this side of the gate, as they were completely unprepared for a small group of battered drow followed by an angry horde of surface elves to come spilling through the gate.
Shouts and cries rose from the camp as a dozen or so drow grabbed weapons and prepared to repel the invaders. With them, tall dark forms moved along the cavern walls. One was illuminated by the flash of a spell. It looked like an unholy fusion of drow and giant spider, standing seven feet tall and wielding a glaive. Two more joined it, and the monstrosities launched themselves at the elves behind you. There was no time to gape as an arrow from the pursuing elves flicked off the stone flooor beneath Bruendor's feet.
Arca Wormbane |
Arca - for Anklebiter cannot be here - wheels around as the Driders pass him, spinning on his heel.
"Back, you sun-licking scum!" he screams in Elven. "Back or burn!"
The Drow Wizard chants a spell extracted from the book of Nolveniss. Fire, crimson yet black, springs up between the Shin'rakorath and the Driders. Radiating an unnatural cold, the flames sweep towards the surface Elves.
"Get archers up here! Push them back! Someone close the portal before the rest of the bastards come through!" Arca shouts in Undercommon.
Major image, as suggested to Kaerishiel. 120-ft. cubed wall of black-red, cold fire moving towards the Shin'rakorath. It looks like fire, sounds like fire and probably smells like it as well. Will save DC 18 to disbelieve.
Bruendor Cavescouter |
Bruendor dives away from the arrow shots, pulling his crossbow off his back as he tumbles to a defensive crouch. "Your days are numbered, fools!", he shouts back, loosing a bolt in their direction. "The very concept of days is numbered! Those of you who die will be the fortunate few!" He places his shot in a non-vital spot of one of the archers, doing little more than drawing blood.
I'll have to make it up to that guy when we get back, somehow.
Attack: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
Damage: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Staryth |
Lefrik in the skin of a dead drow Staryth, and joins in the insults at the surface elves in the elven tongue, "Your children will feed the altars until the blood flows like rivers!" He's not sure drow sacrifice children, or if they have altars... but it sounds ominous, right?
He also lobs his javelin at the toughtest looking elf fighter, knowing he can take it
To hit: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25
Dmg: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Of course, it's the best roll I think I've ever gotten with that dumb thing and it's on a surface elf *head desk*
Calumny Tas'Vere |
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"Enough of this!" Calla snarls.
She taps deep into herself, feeling the usual darkness of a childhood steeped in fear, knowing her father would as soon see her dead as have her near him, into the cold well of the soul of the drow whose body she now inhabits.
She lets the darkness fill her for a moment, cold suffusing her limbs, as she concentrates on a spot between the elves, the race that gave her birth and whose goddess she worships, and her companions, the quartet who have not yet betrayed her. Summoning every ounce of the darkness, she gives it life, calling it into being as a veil between her and the home above that has never been a place she's found welcome.
Using my drow SLA to cast darkness at some spot between the elves and us.
DM Bigrin |
The spider-drow were unexpected, and several of the elves fell to their glaives. Of course, the unexpected nature of the elves' attack meant that many of the drow died as well. As you watched, one of the driders was feathered with enough arrow shafts to fell it. Once you turned on the attackers, the elves began to fall back.
In minutes, a number of drow and surface elves lay prone on the cavern floor. The elves began an orderly withdrawal through the portal, and within moments the portal was closed behind them. The surviving drow shouted in anger and confusion, bickering over who was going to take command. Some shouted commands to clear the dead from the cavern, while others moved towards the gate to ensure that no more surprises awaited from that quarter. In his ire, one drow stomped on the throat of a wounded companion, killing him instantly. Preparations then turned toward sending some runners back to Zirnakayan to alert the leaders of House Vonnarc of the attack. In the chaos, your presence seems to go unnoticed...for now.
Arca Wormbane |
"Females lead among Drow, yes? Calla and Kelendra should take charge. Bicker for authority among yourselves where the Drow can hear and see," Arca whispers to the others.
Out loud, he asks: "Who is in charge?"
Calumny Tas'Vere |
"Not you," Calla snaps back. "This situation is a mess and Zirnakayan needs to know about it.
"You, you, you and you --" she says, pointing to her companions. "Come with me. We'll make sure there are reinforcements sent this way assuming the rest of you can hold out against the damned surface dwellers long enough."
Bluff: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
Thank you, dice roller!
Arca Wormbane |
Um. We have no map of the Underdark / Darklands / Underdarklands(?). We're gonna need a local guide... ^^;
DM Bigrin |
From behind a stout cart that once held supplies, a nasally voice speaks up. "I saw you come in ahead of the elves. I am a servant of the illustrious House Vonnarc, and I crave the honor of escorting you to the House to report to those in charge. If you do not wish to be rounded up by those others and await the next volley of arrows from the traitor-elves, perhaps you will join me in my return to the city?"
The dark elf speaking stood, and you can see a thin, sharp-faced drow wearing what appeared to be livery of some kind - likely that of the House Vonnarc he claimed to serve.
Arca Wormbane |
"Mother's Eldest Daughter," Arca says to Calla, "Mother's Second Daughter," to Kelendra, "might I suggest the offer is good? At the very least it is preferable to some fool blaming us for a situation caused by the failure of those who were placed in command in the Lands Above..."
Calumny Tas'Vere |
Calla nods.
"Very well," she says. "You may indeed have this honor. Collect any supplies we will need and we can leave. We didn't have time to bring anything beyond what you see on us when we returned here."
Anything else we want/need to try to do here before we skedaddle? Not sure if we want/need to get some foodstuffs.
Staryth |
Lefrik looks at the livery, marking it as he might a clan symbol or warlord's banner. Any indicator of where loyalties lay is a good idea. As for his part, he wisely plays it silent and looks to the females as if awaiting their orders. When they choose to accept, he follows.
DM Bigrin |
"This one is called Gadak, and it is my pleasure to serve so fortunate a group."
Louder, he called out, "I'll rush back to the city for reinforcements! Do not fear, you will be relieved shortly."
To the five of you, he said, "Come, quickly. Let us be off before someone here finds a use for you."
With that, Gadak whipped the hissing lizards that drew the cart, and the contraption lurched into motion.
The darklands were an eerie place, unlike even the caverns that Bruendor had grown up in. Caverns loomed, some no larger than a small building, others large enough to fit entire castles, or even small towns. Fungi lined the walls, giving off a faint violet glow, and occasionally, you see small cave-dwelling creatures. At one point, something the size of a squirrel skittered across the tunnel in front of the draft lizards. With a swift lunge, one of the lizards drawing the cart snatched it up in a toothy maw, crunching and swallowing the hapless beast.
As you walked beside the cart, Gadak questioned you about the events in Celwynvian, apparently trying to get the gossip and rumors before anyone else.
Arca Wormbane |
"Reliable sources claimed the lady Shindiira was 'courting master Nolveniss' patronage'." Arca says, making a small, obscene gesture in clarification. "Seeing as he's dead and she was nowhere near Celwynvian when it fell to those sun-lickers, I doubt it will come to anything." He snorts with thinly veiled contempt.