Victor dances in out of nowhere and with a single prick, ends the life of your one time captor...popping a lung through a loose scale. As if in response you hear a maddening *screeeeech* from the pit below, some huge evil thing writhing in agony...the remaining drow certainly sense it too and clutch at their ears defensively. The lieutenant shouts,
but its hard to hear over the deafening noise "F+&&, vith'rell, what have you done?! Her life was the only thing binding the Yochlol..." He and Sarith both disengage offering "Unless you enjoy eternal suffering I suggest you run, kivven! Z'haan!!" and start escaping to the north.
An eerie glow starts to spill forth from the pit...strange symbols reflect and illuminate the walls in unthinkable patterns...
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Khaz followed up his attack on the lieutenant. For a second time his damaged hammer came close to breaking, but was held together by the radiant energy of the divine. It was his faith and anger which was turning a broken weapon into something deadly.
"The character experiences vivid hallucinations and has disadvantage on ability checks."
Froog, all you can recall at the moment is that they are demons who serve as 'handmaidens' to Lolth.
Cade looks around, "We should run. Right."
Gael shoots another dark blast at the fleeing drow before coming to grips with what was going on.
He yells, "Time to run! Everybody over here!"
--------------
HP 24+7/24
AC 14
Conditions: n/a (fiendish boon for 1d4+4 temp hp?)
Melee: Dagger +4, 1d4+2, P
Ranged: Eldritch blast +5, 1d10+3, force
1/2 2nd level spell slots
Froog shakes off the effect of the strange lights and symbols. "Whatever is causing that is something we don't want to face! I'm with Gael, lets get out of here!"
Vic turns and looks over his shoulder as he runs with the others to the North.
That thing is rising out of the ground to devour us all!
Run!
"G%% d&!n these cursed drow!"
Kriv does a fast search of Ilvara grabbing anything that appears to be useful before joining his companions in flight taking up the rear to help anyone who has trouble.
Kriv, most notable at a glance is the tentacle lash you were punished with repeatedly in Velkynvelve and again here recently.
Down the corridors to the north, you pass a number of chained quaggoth that must have been traveling with Ilvara. Derendil seems torn, not wanting to leave them, but at the same time there is not a moment to spare... He glances back at the chaos and again at the captives "I must free them..." he states solemnly and begins to remove their chains, trying to burst them with sheer strength...
"I understand Derendil, I'll assist however I can but we must work quickly. I may not be strong but Lathander can give us all hidden strength!"
With a hero in cry of ”Bah!” Khaz moved to help break the (apparently well made) chains.
Derendil wracks the chain against the old svirfneblin cobblestones violently...
...and a weak link shears free, the fresh metal beneath glistening in his wise eyes.
Back in the pit, now some 50 ft behind you, you see a dark figure crawl its way out of the glow. It seems to be a drow female, completely naked and intertwined with some kind of disorganized fluid sporting a great eye... She walks slowly towards the party with her gaze cast down...a sound comes from somewhere, or maybe its just hallucinations, you hear snarling and frothing like a diseased animal.
"WE AREN'T GOING FAST ENOUGH!"
Cade, you've heard of planar binding spells before, but nothing that could work on demons. Perhaps its a secret of drow magic, or some twisted form of Gate from the faerzress.
seeing he is outta time Kriv just decides to just grab the body and tentacle whip before before rushing after.
The party runs and runs, the old gnome passages branch up and down, left and right. You run for hours the creeping growling and snarling always seeming like it is just behind you, sometimes an echo making it seem just ahead, in the dark...
But with time and near the point of exhaustion the pursuit seems to halt. You lost the drow around a corner a ways back...and you yourself are quite lost and disoriented. You reach a long hall with a functional portcullis, and lowering the bars gives you a sense of security.
Victor and Jimjar talk a bit, trying to sort out the next path.
"Anyone mind if we stop for a bit, we can have keep watch for that thing but I don't intend to lug this corpse everywhere, but I would also prefer to give it a good search before dumping it, who know a drow priestess might have, also anyone want the whip?"
Froog looks in shock at the wounds Kriv has been running with without complaining.
"ohmygosh! Kriv! Yes, put down the corpse of that vile woman and rest for a bit I'll do what I can to help your wounds heal." Froog casts a spell of mending and the worst of Kriv's cuts begin to close.
"Did anyone else get hurt and not say anything? And Derendil, it is very noble of you to save the prisoners of the Drow. I'm glad we have someone of your disposition with us. That being said, isn't most of your kind less ahhh... nice? "
"Thank you Froog, its safe to say at this point pain is becoming a very unwelcome friend I am learning to get along with."
If we are stopping for a short rest then kriv will do a proper search of the priestess's possessions laying them out for Froog to cast his magic on.
Cade catches up with the group shuffling his feet and stumbling as he runs. Moving past the group barely registering they have stopped reaches the portcullis and starts to climb a few steps before he realizes that it seems time to rest.
"Where are we?" He pants. He sits. He looks up at Kriv, "You brought a corpse. . . .we didn't get anything for you." He chuckles.
"Well then, I guess I'll just have to keep it all for myself"
Kriv states to Cade holding stern face before eventually cracking a small smile.
"Well she looks all bone and gristle Khaz might have eaten drow wench before he might have some recipes."
"We will have to ask him, I am sure he would love to share"
Gael thanked the halfling, "I'm alright, at least my body is."
He turned to the others, "What was that thing? And are we sure it's just around the corner?"
The half-elf then inspected the portcullis, "Is this dwarven make? Anyone have any idea?"
Khaz looked at the portcullis and shrugged. ”Can’t rightly say. But by the Stone did we give them Drow a beating! Sad that they were able to summon yon demon, but hopefully it won’t last in this plane long.”
Khaz, its definitely not dwarven. No dwarf would cast such ridiculous patterns in the iron bars, those little mushrooms holding hands, giant salt crystals, and little gnomes making funny faces. Likely svirfneblin make, as Jimjar suspected.
Kriv, in addition to the tentacle whip, you find a suit of scale mail and a now broken obsidian holy symbol of Lolth (which may still function as a dagger or at least a utility knife).
Froog, Derendil had been chatting almost nonstop somewhat heatedly with the other quaggoth in some gutteral language, he turns to you "Perhaps, but this lot are weakened from slavery, and the drow poisons are not yet out of their systems. I think they can help you get to the Blingdenstone outskirts, apparently the drow traded on some kind of shadow market there." he pauses and takes a deep breath "But we will not follow after that. They have asked me to be their alpha, and I accepted..."
"So, joking aside anyone want the whip, otherwise I will take it, this other axe of mine is pretty beat up, plus it packs a punch."
Kriv, the tentacle rod is quite obviously a powerful magic item and might benefit from some inspection.
Froog, the tentacle rod emanates a very strong transmutation aura. Despite this, the tentacles seem limp and lifeless.
Sure, Kriv, the whip suits you. Have at it.
”It’s nay a proper weapon for a dwarf. Keep the cursed Drow whip. Jus’ like these gates look gnomish. Nay dwarf would make these inscriptions. Now how to get through? Mayhaps they have a forge I can use an’ beds to sleep in.”
Jimjar responds "Oh yes, it will be quite nice indeed. The Foaming Mug will feel like a princesses birthday, Id wager. Tappy's a good girl with great ale! Darklake Stout you know, not some flayer entrails or hook horror nostrils or what have you...pah! Get serious." he looks over the lumbering hulks "Derendil, you say the quaggoth know a hidden route to the mines? Then lead away..."
Topsy and Turvy seem much less excited about going to Blingdenstone, appearing a bit sullen actually.
"I know you guys have some bad memories from Blingdenstone but I would like to help you correct whatever is going on there. After releasing demigods and demons to the underdark, the least we can do is help with a lycanthropy problem."
Topsy looks hopeful for a moment but then grunts "Hur...they'll never let us back in...they think we're Goldwhiskers."
Along the way Jimjar gives a little overview on the ancestral home of the svirfneblin. Blingdenstone, once called the City of Speaking Stones, is a deep gnome settlement founded more than two millennia ago. The deep gnomes, insular and secretive by nature, care little about histories and legacies, and thus most of the ruined city’s past is lost to time.
For centuries, Blingdenstone remained hidden and isolated from the rest of the Underdark, thanks to a combination of misdirection and magic. It wasn’t until they provided shelter to a drow exile named Drizzt Do’Urden that the deep gnomes began to take a more active interest in the world outside their caverns. Perceiving the threat the drow represented to all the peoples of the Underdark, the deep gnomes abandoned their isolation when they came to the defense of the dwarves of Mithral Hall, defeating an invading drow force from Menzoberranzan.
This alliance, however, would spell Blingdenstone’s doom. The vengeful drow bided their time, rebuilt their forces, and sent their armies out to strike back hard against the svirfneblin, returning in great force to lay siege to Blingdenstone. The deep gnomes were no match for the drow army. Thousands of svirfneblin were slaughtered, and those survivors who didn’t escape to Mithral Hall or the surface world were dragged back in chains to Menzoberranzan as slaves.
Within the past decade or so, the deep gnomes have returned to reclaim, resettle, and rebuild their city. The ultimate success of their efforts, however, hangs by a slender thread. Most of the ruined city is a dangerous place and remains closed off, with tunnels and chambers barricaded with gates or deliberately caused cave-ins. The svirfneblin must contend with incursions by wererat squatters (Goldwhiskers), insane elementals, ghosts, and a plague of invading oozes controlled by a mad gnome calling himself the Pudding King. Before they can offer the party any help, the deep gnomes likely need some themselves...