
Arca Wormbane |

"An unsatisfactory beast at best," Arca says, with a pointed sniff. "Greens are too rigid in their thinking. A white or even a red would have been much better. But one more of master Nolveniss' mistakes, I'd say -- if you will continue to permit me, Mother's Eldest Daughter."

Quevven Malaggar |

"Worse, they were able to finally penetrate the Armageddon Echo," Quevven interjects, leaping in while Arca hesitates. "Our redoubt upon the surface is lost to us, and our forces are now scattered amongst Celwynvian's ruins, outnumbered and behind enemy lines. Our only hope is that they claim many elven lives before their inevitable deaths."

DM Bigrin |

"I see. Well it seems you were even more fortunate than I had thought."
Chitchat continued on in this vein until at one point, Gadak pulled a crossbow from the cart, and aimed it at the ceiling. Loaded in the crossbow was an overlarge quarrel with a thick cylinder where the head would be on a normal bolt.
"I suggest you close your eyes."
Nervous at giving a strange drow such control over you, you nevertheless closed your eyes. The crossbow discharged with a thump, and then the world was lit with a flash that even penetrated your closed eyelids. Blinking, you saw purple motes and a gray haze that slowly cleared, allowing you to see the shapes of darkmantles floating from their ambush spot towards a nearby crevice.
Gadak said, "They are always there. By myself, I can't really fight them, so I use the flash bolts to frighten them off, and then I can be on my way. With your permission?"
With a snap of his quirt, he lashed the lizards into motion again, and you continue on towards the city.
Unwilling to give a strange drow such control over you, you steadfastly refuse to close your eyes. Gadak shrugged, and lifted the crossbow, pointing it at a spot on the ceiling. He closed his own eyes after taking aim, and you realized that perhaps you should have taken his advice, even as the dark elf pulled the trigger. The crossbow discharged with a thump, and then the world was lit with a flash that blinded you. Your newfound sensitivity to light drove pain through your skull like a lightning blast, nearly driving you to your knees.
From beyond the pain, you can hear Gadak say, "They are always there. By myself, I can't really fight them, so I use the flash bolts to frighten them off, and then I can be on my way. With your permission?"
With a snap of his quirt, he lashed the lizards into motion again, and you continue on towards the city.
You are blinded for 1 minute, and take 1d6 ⇒ 1 nonlethal damage.

Arca Wormbane |

Arca does close his eyes when prompted. He just barely catches the darkmantles slithering to cover when he opens them again - and bares his teeth in a hateful snarl.
"Good shot," he compliments Gadak.

Quevven Malaggar |

Quevven nods, closing his eyes, swallowing his disgust at lowering his guard amongst the drow for even a moment. He too opens his eyes once Gadak speaks again, watching the tentacled beasts crawl back to their dark corners. "Miserable vermin," he mutters. "Someone should send a few slaves after them, beat them back to the disused tunnels."

Calumny Tas'Vere |

Calla keep her eyes open at first, slamming them closed when she sees the drow close his and blinking back the aftereffects.
"It would be easy enough to do, I think, but not worth the trouble. You handled it well," she says.

Staryth |

Lefrik is used to fighting blind, and doesn't feel that vulnerable when his eyes are closed, so he does so. If the drow tries any treachery, he'll hack his head off and they'll find a plan B.
Fortunately, it turns out not to be necessary. He nods approvingly, and follows.

DM Bigrin |

Gadak waited a moment longer for Kelendra to blink the blindness away, and shake off the lancing pain in her head. He appeared chagrined at her remonstration, and inclined his head in acknowledgement. Clucking at the lzard, he moved the carts along, occasionally asking more questions about Celwynvian.
As the walls of the city loomed ahead, he asked, "Do you have arrangements int the city? If not, this one can probably pull some strings to have you taken in among the servants of House Vonnarc."

Calumny Tas'Vere |

"That will work," Calla says with a gracious nod.
I could spin you a tale of not being welcomes home after the troubles above, but why complicate matters, she thinks. He doesn't need an explanation, just to do what we need.

DM Bigrin |

The 30-foot wall of barbed stone and bladed iron stood, barring access to the city beyond. A closed gate of spiked black iron etched with images of howling demons bars your passage. Four heavily armes drow guards waved for you to stop, and Gadak reins in the lizards before presenting the house brooch he wears proudly on his left breast. One of the guards, peering into the cart and about to reach in, saw the brooch and jerked his hand back. Without a word, the guards withdraw, signaling some agent inside the walls, which caused the gate to rumble open.
Stretching into the darkened distance, a fearsome city of sculpted stone and bladed iron fills the impossibly sized cavern beyond the gate. Eerie eldritch flames - burning in the colors of dying suns and furious thunderstorms - ripple over spires carved from ancient stalagmites, adorning them with the blaze of ominous, spidery runes.
Two steep cliffs jut from the cavern floor, one atop the other, creating massive steps over which the city spills like a benighted waterfall. Flickering in the distance rises a single topless tower, a column connecting the ground with the ceiling, its entire height covered in runes. Below the tower lies tangles of gently glowing fungal blooms alongside pools of oily-looking water. Above, carved into the dome-like ceiling, flickering fire illuminates twelve caves, their mouths carved into unsettling and demonic images. Everywhere - as menacing as eldritch shadows - glide the graceful, deadly forms of drow.

Arca Wormbane |

Arca glances out of the corner of hiz eyes at the passing Drow, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The skull atop the staff he has held during the journey through the darkness burns with endless, dark flame.
"So pleasant to be back," he murmurs.

Quevven Malaggar |

Quevven attempts to keep his visage even, even though he realizes that he and his friends are heading deep within the belly of the beast. No turning back now, Bruendor, he thought, his keen elven eyes spotting the silent passing forms of drow, and the alien nature of the underground city, even for someone familiar with dwarven culture.

Calumny Tas'Vere |

Calla looks around, taking in the strange sights.
Like home, if the illusion had been stripped away, she thinks, face betraying nothing.
When she gets a chance, she takes in the brooch, trying to memorize its appearance.
Perception (to examine the broach): 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (7) + 16 = 23
Stealth (to not be noticed examining the broach): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (19) + 15 = 34

DM Bigrin |

Calla studied the badge that Gadak displayed. Apparently the sign of House Vonnarc, it was a spidery rune on a shield of red.
Gadak apparently loved to hear the sound of his own voice, and happily chattered on about Zirnakaynin, it's history, and its politics for the entirety of the trek down into the city proper. The cart forced you to take the long way through the city, sticking only to the wider paths and streets, while lizard riders and drow on foot made their way more swiftly along walls and smaller footpaths.
Gadak relays everything here. If you have any moer questions for him, feel free to ask.
Finally, after hours of slow plodding, the close-set buildings open into a larger subcavern. Seemingly grown from the dark stone of this nighted abyss, a sinister palace of unnatural beauty and abhorrence looms. Spires of web-like metal slice through the darkness, their heights illuminated by arcane flame, while elegant curves of the structure's walls seem to flicker and shift in the dancing shadows. Around the compound, surrounded by a lacework of metal wrought depicting elves and demons in the most lurid acts imaginable, the barely seen forms of armored elves glide in a soundless patrol. Suddenly, from somewhere within, an otherworldly shriek arose. Half scream, half bestial howl, it resonated and then dies among the gloom. A moment later came the noises terrible answer, a fluttering peal of merciless, mocking laughter.

Arca Wormbane |

Arca's grip on his staff tightens, the dark flames burning momentarily with greater vigour.
"Your lady master has... special interests?" he suggests to Gadak.

DM Bigrin |

Right now you on are on the edge of Eirdrissier, looking at the House Vonnarc compound
Gadak looked over to Calumny and smiled. "As you likely know, House Vonnarc is known to host the premier arcane wizards of all the houses of Zirnakaynin, though of course we have our share of divine priestesses and such. Most recently, I suppose, the House is famed for its ability to twist the travel devices of the foul surface elves. Twist them, I say, to our own purposes."

Arca Wormbane |

"And milady Vonnarc is a priestess? Or is she of the arcane persuasion? I do not believe anyone has ever told me."

Arca Wormbane |

"Ahh, it is as I feared," Arca sighs.
Then he winks and grins at Gadak.
"I shall have to scribe a scroll or craft something to show my respect for such an exalted lady, as she is giving us her hospitality."
Diplomacy 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

Staryth |

"Tribute timely given is rarely unwise," Lefrik agrees, still trying to process all the information given about the city. Well, it would appear we are guesting at the right house, at least. If they control passage, then they definitely are a priority. Yet why the generous welcome? Dark elves are evil... evil people aren't big on giving something for nothing. what price are they going to ask for this, and how can we refuse without tipping our hand too soon? Blast. I wish I were more cunning.

DM Bigrin |

Gaining access to the Vonnarc grounds was simplicity itself. Gadak showed his badge and the guards let him in without comment. The drover took the lizards and their burden to a low building that served as the stables, where he unhooked the animals from their harnesses and pushed the cart into a stall.
"And now it is time to seek a place for you on staff here. Please wait here while I go and speak with the slavemother."

Arca Wormbane |

Arca purses his lips and drums his fingers on his staff.
'I'm going to have to start preparing Arcane Eye as a matter of course. We can't afford to be too trusting down here!'
The Wizard bends over to Quevven and whispers the gist of his dark thoughts into the other Dark Elf's ear...

Quevven Malaggar |

Quevven nods in agreement with the wizard. "Trust no one here, save only to trust they will work for their own selfish interests." He stepped away from their conversation to examine the creatures more closely that the drow used as pack animals.

Calumny Tas'Vere |

"So, no different than on the surface, then?" Calla mutters, as she waits.
"Calistria grants me the ability to tell truth from lies, but only for a brief time each day," she adds.
That ability may come in handy...

Arca Wormbane |

"And I can study a spell to far-gaze and spy," Arca whispers. "But not too often. Once a day is best, or I won't have enough combat power. I feel we will need it..."

DM Bigrin |

Within a few minutes, ten at most, Gadak returned.
"Slavemaster Undamenta will see you now. I suppose this doesn't need saying, but she is a person of some power in the household, and will not take kindly to loose language or hidden mockery."
Gadak led you to the House proper, a place almost devoid of straight angles. The building is a large, bustling place full of drow, and their servitors from the lesser races. Gadak led you to the rear of the house, through the servant's corridor to the stables.
Eventually, you arrive at a large chamber. A dim violet light emanated from somewhere above, though to your drow eyes, the light is unnecessary. The walls are covered with diaphanous tapestries that look to be made of some kind of silk, delicately embroidered with the House Vonnarc emblem, and elaborate designs. Flanked by stone statues of fierce-looking drow warriors, a long table of dark stone dominates one end of the room. Three chairs line the table's far side, the centermost occupied by a severe looking drow female.
Gadak gestures for you to move to the center of the room before stepping forward and bowling low. "Revered Slavemother, these are the travelers from beyond the portal of whom I spoke. House Rasivreign's operations at the portal gate were a confused and disordered mess when these arrived, and none stood to meet their return from the surface. With their own masters having forsaken them, I most meekly ask that their obvious skills and experience be considered for inclusion among the ranks of those who dutifully serve the envied and paramount house of Vonnarc."
The woman raised an eyebrow in a high arch, the gesture magnified by the fact that the eyebrows were the only hair visible on the elf woman's head. "Skills and experience? Of what? Running away? Should I not be the judge of their skills and experience, cart hauler?"
Gadak bowed and backed away as the woman began firing questions at you, looking at each in turn.
Feel free to answer all or some, as you see fit.
"Where do you come from?"
"What House do you serve?"
"Why did return to Zirnakaynin?"
"Why do you seek to serve House Vonnarc?"
"Why do you believe you are worthy of serving House Vonnarc?"
"What could you possibly have to offer the illustrious house of Vonnarc?"
"What is your relationship to each other?"

Arca Wormbane |

"If I may, Mother's eldest daughter?" Arca deferentially asks of Calla. Provided the alpha female does not object, he bows to and addresses the Slavemother.
"We returned because the invasion force was routed, its leadership slain by assassins. To remain above would have been a death sentence beyond any shadow of a doubt. As for what I have to offer and why I should consider myself worthy, milady," Arca says, "a small demonstration."
The Wizard thumps the heel of his staff against the ground and whispers a sibilant-sounding spell. A red cloud billows up, spiralling around the room -- and opens bilious yellow eyes. Faint voices whisper horrible, but fortunately unintelligible things... and slowly, cloud, eyes and voices seep into the walls and vanish.
"This, and other such arts, are mine to command, milady," Arca murmurs. "And I am part of this group. If you would grant our little family a berth here, those arts would then be at the command of House Vonnarc."
Minor image, with a 120 cubic ft. Effect. Will save DC 17 to disbelieve.

Quevven Malaggar |

"We are but freeswords, Revered Slavemother," Quevven answers, assuming an appropriately obsequious tone. "Minor siblings of a minor house, our parents wiped out during a skirmish between major houses. We currently owe no house our allegiance, but as the House Vonnarc has shown us mercy in our flight from the surface, we wish to repay that kindness in the blood of our enemies. My brother Arca has shown his talents - mine are in stealth and assassination. I will let my younger brother and honored Sisters speak for themselves."