Now empowered with mighty magics flowing through her, "Briza" stands her ground and hammers the oozing horror multiple times with her axe.
As Brenna's wounds began appearing on Lyra's body, she added a rain of fire to Zoso's torrent of arrows.
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"And when it has gone past we will turn the inner eye to see its path," Zoso continues his countersong.
Vex aimed her tiny wand at the creature again.
The group continues to move in on the irnakurse, pelting it with brutal attacks. The creature lets out a hideous shriek once more, but the tangleburn bag flies straight into its gaping maw. It chokes wildly before Brenna leaps onto it, and puts an end to its horrific "life" with one final blow.
End of Combat
The duergar, who were hiding behind bars and figuring out whether or not to defend themselves from you, slowly emerge. The reticent dark dwarves don't say much until the bartender herself walks out, kicking the twisted body.
"Damned fleshwarp things. Someone doesn't like me I reckon." She turns to look at all of you warily, clearly not quite prepared to trust your lot. "Your timing saved my bar, and probably my life. I am in your debt. What do you want of me?"
"Briza" wipes off her axe and stows it and waits for one of the talkers to barter out some information.
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Zoso finishes his litany as the mangled beast dies, "Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain." He plucks the short bow string once and grimaces at the loss of his beautiful longbow.
"That was unexpected, is there anything here worthy of Drow to drink?" Zoso first asks, trying to get a feel for being a Drow still and their art of being dicks. He sighs and smacks the wood of his bow into his open hand, "We have come to ask Vorjans Gost a few questions, the fella around?"
The duergar blinks at your tone and then mutters something before producing a bottle. It's at this moment you notice the back of the bar is lined with mason jars holding eyes. She tosses Zoso the bottle.
"You're looking at her. Easier to keep a low profile when the drow think they're looking for a male. That bottle is Spiderblood wine. I hear it's good but I don't touch the stuff. Cost enough. Consider it a "let's get this over with" gift. Now this ain't the kind of bar you come for questions. My business is about privacy."
She points at the preserved eyes. "That's what happens to snitches around these parts. Understand? But I can't stop you from asking a question and a debt is a debt. Go ahead."
Fascinated, Beshtori comes out from behind cover to examine the abomination, and poke at it.
[ooc]Besh isn't looking for anything specific, but is curious about what the thing is, how it was formed, and what gave it life. Let me know if there's any specific roll I should make, otherwise:
Zoso hands the bottle to Lyra.
"Tell us about the community of driders to the east Zirnakaynin and what you know of Rikhrys, Ryldtrin, and Yazfein." he asks, half expecting the question to cause violence to break out.
Lyra took a small sip, more for professional curiosity than desire. She held it in her mouth for a long time, deconstructing the taste with her knowledge of Alchemy. She swallowed and passed the bottle to Saphren, letting Zoso continue to do the talking.
Saphren shrugs and after watchjing for an adverse reaction from Lyr takes a drink himself.
Lyr, playing his role as well as he can, takes a mouthful of the spiderblood wine, forcing himself to think about it as an alchemist rather than a gourmand. Shockingly, it doesn't appear to be blood at all, but is likely made from fermented fungus, although has a far more delicate, lighter flavour than one would expect. There is a sharp, painful bite to it as well, which Lyr immediately knows as spider venom. Apparently just enough for flavour and a little danger. Probably not something to binge.
Beshtori pokes at the irnakurse and as he looks over it more closely he realizes to his horror this creature was very likely once an elf. Its body has been inflated, stretched, and twisted, and whatever tortures it underwent certainly drove it mad. This looks like a result of the fleshwarping processes that created the driders he's heard a lot about.
---
Vorjans levels a gaze at you in response to the question, her manner changing quickly. Her voice drops and becomes very, very careful.
"Never heard of 'em."
She's heard of 'em.
Saphrne tisks and then states flatly And here I thought that after we did you this big favor that we were gonna be friends... He re-draws his blade and moves towards Vorjans with a slow pace and steady eye contact.
Zoso holds his hands up in a shrug, bow still grasped in the left, "Honey, I have no leverage over this guy. You'd better cut the shit," he says referencing Saphren's approach.
"The Driders, NOW." Something rises up in Zoso, some of the screams begin to surface from the elf within the dwarf within the drow. He can't act like everything's ok forever. The Darklands begin to coax out a temper.
Revulsion mixes around with fascination when Brizree notices that the others are moving in on the duergar.
With no clue what is happening, <he> moves to support the others:
Black lightning crackles from elbows to clenched fists as Brizree maneuvers to a clear view of Vorjans.
Her face turns white as she looks at you and Zoso and Beshtori, to their own surprise, manage to scare the living hell out of the duergar. She lets out a shaky breath before turning, defeated. "Fine. Follow me. Mickin, you have the bar."
---
She leads you in to a back room where she paces nervously before she sits down, staring at the floor, furious and unable to do anything. "If you knew to come here, it was going to fall apart anyways. They never paid well anyways. Better their hides than mine. And I owe you. Fine, this is my debt paid. The driders you're looking for have fled to a place called Last Hope. Anyone in the know has a vague idea about it, but attempts to find it have been thwarted. My job was to serve as a go-between between a svirfneblin who represents them, and arrange a pick up for the driders. They all have some basic spells, so an invisibility spell gets them to the meet-up point, and they then get their escort out of here."
She inhales deeply. "I don't know how big Last Hope is. Your driders will either be waiting for their pick up or already moving to the community. The pick up point is beyond Citadel Toraiyor out by the hinterlands of the area."
You get a simple map giving you directions. "I sincerely hope I never see any of you again. Ask your questions."
Guarding the passage to Zirnakaynin’s outlying settlements and farmlands, Zirnakaynin’s largest population of enslaved driders reside here and within caves in the surrounding walls
"Escaping to a better life, eh? I doubt that such a thing exists in the Darklands," says Briza. "Who made arrangements for them? They couldn't have just walked away from the family compound and stumbled into someone who was going to happily get them out for free."
'Stupid Darklands, none of this is familiar or makes sense..'
Zoso takes the map and studies it, "Who else is in the know and how do you interact with this svirfneblin? How can we contact them?"
"The driders have their own motives, I don't pry. The svirfneblin offered me money to be a stable contact for driders in the city, and I took it. Her name is Durthee Gemcutter. She's a merchant who specializes in drug sales - you can usually find her in the Drashes district to the north. She wanders, but is always wearing this stupid hat with a big pink feather in it. Says it attracts addicts. She's hard to miss."
Drashes is the roughest part of Zirnakaynin, an intentionally-designed ghetto for the worst sections of society. It is notoriously lawless and dangerous for anyone regardless of race.
Drashes is run by a dark stalker gangster named Xomos Fain, who uses a gang of drow to enforce a protection racket on the area.
"That is what we needed to know. Let's go." she said, turning to leave. She did not thank the Duergar or acknowledge her further.
We are looking for a dark stalker gangster named Xomos Fain, who uses a gang of drow to enforce a protection racket on the area.
Brizree brightens: "Cool! So, Fain leads us to Gemcutter who leads us to somewhere near Citadel Toraiyor where we'll either find our driders or find our way to Last Hope. Easy-peasy!"
Reaching for the door, <he> turns back quickly to the others: "Was there something else? Should we go now?"
Lyra says keep quiet. Don't say anything else about what our plans are. Vex's mental voice said int the group's heads. If you want to talk about where we are going or what we might do next, use me to pass the message along.
With Vex hinting at the group to use their telepathy, you leave one of the rougher parts of town, and head for the roughest part of town.
While the non-drow area that the Blind Eye was in a relatively tough neighbourhood, it was still in the middle market district. Now you are going to the area known as Ghenavoc, the cavern floor, where the poorest toil to survive.
The unsettling beauty of drow architecture gives way to hovels and dwellings dug out of rock formations as you descend a lift into Ghenavoc. There is also a notable lack of magical lighting here, and soon your darkvision is your only real source of light, letting you see no more than ninety feet in front of you.
Despite the danger in the area, a group of heavily-armed drow in house sigils may draw attention, but you are not attacked. Yet. It becomes very obvious as you move further into the Drashes that everyone is paying attention to you, and that after a short while, you are being followed.
After around ten minutes of exploration, it's clear that you've picked up a trail of a few people on the streets, and a few others scampering across the top of buildings.
We seem to have gathered a following. Saphren notes.
Vex telepathically relayed Lyra's words, embellishing with a few of her own.
We're outsiders, we are clearly well off, and we just did something out of the ordinary for Drow. They're probably trying to figure out whether or not they can manage to convince us to do things for them, or kill us and take our stuff.
Remember, murder and theft aren't illegal here, unless it's from a Drow noble or their retainers.
I don't think we have a choice here, if we're not going to blow our cover we'll need to drive them off or lose them. My only idea is to intimidate them like some honest Drow would. Anyone have anything creative in mind? Zoso thinks back. Maybe I could 'speak' to them and give them a 'suggestion' to get busy somewhere else.
Intimidate is good.
Briza starts to open her mouth, then shuts it with some force. She closes her eyes and thinks REAL HARD.
I BET I COULD SCARE THEM OFF
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Zoso stops walking, Ok, on three. One.. two.. he thinks.
When the timing is right, the drow turns and faces the crowd that has built up behind them. Zoso yells at them all, hoping he isn't alone.
Briza turns on her heel and hefts her axe. She bounces the thick handle in her hand a few times, the adamantine blade giving off a faint ultraviolet glow in the otherwise gray darkness.
"Or I could just cut your d!cks off and keep them as souvenirs," she says.
Saphren pull the very large falchon and smiles evilly. Evidently he does not manage to pull it off though.
"Pick a group and light them up!"
Picking a tightly clustered group on top of a building, Besh mutters a word and the group bursts into bright blue flames.
Lyra simply turned around. She was playing the role of a Drow commander, standing back to observe while her underlings handled the situation.
The group suddenly turn and start calling out challenges. This is apparently not the normal behaviour, and the figures on the rooftops shrink back and pause for a moment. Further down the street, the figures that were shadowing you stop in their tracks. They don't quite seem to be sure what to do.
Faerie fire lights up up three of the drow on the rooftop, only aiding to the intimidate effect. Although you are outnumbered, you are very well armed, and very confident. One of them finally calls out.
"What do House Vonnarc's pets want with the Drashes?"
Give them nothing. That is our business. Vex said telepathically. Drow do not answer to demands from their lessers.
Or give them a lie. Whatever we say they'll guess it's a lie, but a good lie is respected here.
Lyra put an arrow to her bow, saying nothing.
Saphren simply continues forward.
To the one who spoke, Zoso points his bow, "YOU, come here. You will give us answers," he commands while purposefully ignoring the drow's question.
We'll take one and get answers on Fain, this is likely his drow enforcer gang.
You're in an alley rather than main street right now, but there are doors you could step in to.
Zoso seems to grow into his role as a drow and his voice rings out in the alleyway with incredible presence. The one speaking for the drow tailing you cautiously steps forward, a crossbow leveled at Zoso, but he is clearly intimidated. He stops after he shows clearly enough.
"Y-you're not in charge here!" he squeaks. "Xomos Fain runs this territory, and there's a toll!"
"Let me explain how this will go," says Brenna to the crossbow-wielder, still bouncing her axe in her hand. "You'll shoot me with your crossbow, then I'll cut off one of your appendages with my axe. Maybe your arm, maybe a leg, maybe your head or your... other head. Right here and now, Xomos Fain isn't in charge of sh!t."
Zoso waits to see how the drow reacts to Brenna. If they insist he'll continue.
"Fain. Bring him to us. We'll be waiting in there." Zoso commands without specifying where he meant.
Saph, Brenna. One of you want to kick in a door of something that doesn't look too embarassing? We need a place to meet this Fain. With the way they're all shaking we might be able to keep this upper hand and do it on our terms.
Vex crawled from one side of Lyra's shoulder to the other. Or, at least that's what it looked like.
In actuality she vanished when she was behind Lyra's back and an illusion of herself crawled onto Lyra's other shoulder.
If they leave I'm going to follow them.
"Y-you're not in charge here!" he squeaks. "Xomos Fain runs this territory, and there's a toll!"
"HAH!"
From this initial 'threat' through his party's responses, Beshtori is beset by a fit of the giggles, which are one part nervousness, one part disdain, one part amusement at the thought of Brenna lopping off 'appendages.'
Brenna is probably the largest drow anybody has seen. A female of that might is enough to completely terrify the thieves. He stumbles backwards, falling over a crack in the cavern floor before righting himself. "Y-You haven't heard the last of us! Xomos will know!"
And with that, they all turn and bolt away down the alley. The faerie fire makes it pretty easy to spot.