Smiling at suddenly seeing their drow pursuers fall behind them, Harro scratches his non-existent beard and shrugs noncommittally to his new friend.
"He's Big? Anyways, days are sound'n better than weeks t'me. Let's float!"
"Looks like we got out just in time. I saw some folks enter the village back there as we left that did not quite fit in. If we're lucky that thing will eat them. If not, then I agree with Harro, days do sound better."
I wonder if the open sea is safe.
"Is there any reason to avoid the deep areas? Could there be more of those things out there?"
"I sincerely hope that there are not any more of 'those things' out there. Unless I am very much mistaken, that was Demogorgon, the Sibilant Beast, Master of the Spiraling Depths, and apparently now also answering to the name Leemooggoogoon, the Deep Father." Ploopploopeen replied. "The thing I don't understand is that the ritual shouldn't have worked. Precision in these things is very important and our interruption should have been more than in time. It's not like a simple summoning spell, you have to attract the attention of the target whilst also opening a Gate from here to the Abyss. It's almost as if they merely widened an existing crack between worlds, or the Sibilant Beast was already waiting for the call. This is most concerning."
Tanic shudders a bit.
"I never understood WHY someone would want to mess with things like that. We druids stick to animals and the occasional Fey. We would never dream of calling something like that thing. I REALLY don't like the idea of some crack that lets those things in even without some idiot calling them on the other side. I pray you're wrong, but fear you're right. I do hope we can just bypass this whole mess while someone else deals with it.
Harro scowls at the fish-man's explanation and slams a fist down on the railing of the boat.
"Blasted beast 'got two-heds! Nothing living should'a have two bloody heds! 'Specially sumptin' that big!"
"I saw a giant with two heads back in Gracklstugh about a month an' a half ago. The ruddy thing was absolutly crazy, even for a giant. Smashed up half the Market of Blades before the Stone Guard stopped it. They said it escaped from the Deep Mines but I thought they only had normal one headed giants working down there. At least that Demo-guy isn't our problem any more, eh?" Hemeth adds.
Bloopblippodd agrees to take the party to Gracklstugh before trying to gather up the surviving residents of Sloobludop and salvaging what they can. He invites Shushaar to join him.
Vinexa was rather glad she was freed from the net and that Glabagool had managed to come through it intact, and with lunch. She made sure her friend made it to the boat with the rest and collapsed once they were on the way with a happy, sated look. As they began to speak of Demogorgon being the same as Lemogoogon, and wondering why the right worked when it shouldn't she lazily said, "Probably because of me." She looked to Talindra and gestured for her to come close, patting the ground beside her.
Micar shakes his head at the duergars, If that thing Is on the loose, it's going to be everyone's problem.
"I'd rather deal with 2-headed giants than that thing."
The journey across the lake is largely uneventful. When you are about a day away from Graklestugh, Hemeth speaks up.
"The guards at Graklestugh can sometimes be a bit, how shall I put it, over-inquistive when faced with 'interesting' groups of people such as yourselves. Fortunatly if you're not in the mood for questions I happen to ,um, know of this quiet little cave we can dock at and get in, no questions asked. What do you say?"
Harro, eager to please his new friend, shakes his head in agreement.
"Youse' know this place better'n us!"
"I do love a good cave. That would be my preference too."
"Some folks don't particularly like Drow but there's no rule against them. A couple of houses have representatives or something in the city I think, something to do with trade and diplomacy and all that. They tend to have guards with them when ever they go out and about though. You might get overcharged by some shopkeeps and might want to stay out of certain neighbourhoods but you should be fine. What would you disguise yourself as anyway? I don't see you passing for duergar or svirfneblin anytime soon." Hemeth replies, squinting his eyes and looking at Talindra more closely.
"You do look slightly odd for a drow though. Forgive me if I'm treading on a sensitive subject but I've never seen one with skin like that."
"Peace, my green friend. I have many green friends, and there is no need to be self-conscious. To those who seek the exotic, you will be quite a catch. Hemeth was just commenting on it since exotic does not blend well, and we, unfortunately, are on the run."
"Not at all ma'am. No offence intended. Jus' curious is all. Now if you'll 'scuse me I need to have a word with our helmsman 'bout our heading." Hemeth replies, slightly abashed and with a fair bit of bowing.
After hours of tense navigation, you glimpse an orange glow in the distance. Soon you hear faint metallic echoes, growing ever louder as you come closer.
Firelight illuminates massive columns with structures built around their bases. The cold air of the Underdark is becoming warmer even at this distance, and you can now see a variety of piers made from zurkhwood, stone, and plain rock jutting along the edge of a huge cavern.
Hemeth guides the boat past all the piers and to the eastern edge of the cavern. It looks almost like he is going to dash the boat against the rocky walls, when at the last moment a small crevice appears and the boat slips through into a small, low ceilinged cave with a natural rock pier and a wide sandy beach.
"Well here we are" Hemeth remarks with a note of pride.
Appreciative of the other dwarf's knowledge and canny abilities, Harro smiles. He then rubs his bald head nervously.
"Smooth. So...know any Grimcraters 'ere 'bouts? I've been slav'n for the be-damned Drow since I was a wee lad. I remember much of the Duergar people, but little of spec'fics. I'm not even sure if any my family's from 'round 'ere!"
"I'm not sure, the name rings a bell but I can't think of any faces to match it in particular. I could help ask around, see if anyone else has heard of them?" Hemeth replies.
The Kuo-toa say their goodbyes and the boat casts off as Hemeth leads you to a secret door at the back of the cave, leading to what appears to be some sort of cellar or warehouse, filled with a jumble of crates and casks. As you leave the warehouse a wave of heat slams against you as an acrid smog rises to choke the air out of your lungs. The Darklake spreads out beyond a jumble of buildings and streets, reflecting the lights of countless fires burning across the city within hollowed out columns and stalagmites.
Though the streets are crowded, you move easily within the surging throng of buyers, merchants, and slaves. You aren't the only outsiders here, as you spy svirfneblin, derro, orcs, and other races in the crowds. The shouting of people blends with the sound of distant hammering to create a constant, distracting din.
"Do you all think the Drow will leave us alone now? I still intend to make my way back home, but some of you may want to see if you can make a life here. Its a bit hot for my tastes, but they do grow mushrooms from the looks of those piers, which is a plus."
I wonder if there are any druids around here besides me.
Micar bids the kua-toa safe travels and muses to himselfadd they sail off, I wonder if we actually helped them at all. Guess it doesn't matter now.
Smiling at the content of the warehouse,
"Hmmmm, what's in the casks?"
Hemeth jumps slightly at the mention of the casks. Ooh, er jus' beer an spirits. Saves on the taxes, bringing them in this way, you know. Definitely nothing else in those casks, just beer an brandy.
Hemeth laughs weakly
Speaking of beer, you lot will need somewhere to stay whilst you're here. I know just the place, The Ghohlbrorn's Lair. Best Inn in the city that allows non-duergar and me an the landlord go way back. Shall we go?
"I rather like this cave. Could we just stay here for a while? The city seems a bit... overcrowded. And hot."
Tanic starts sweating a bit, though it could be from the heat, but he has a little wildness in his eyes as you all discuss entering the city.
Harro slaps the Oread on the back, nearly knocking him over.
"Youse' jut bein' silly Tanic! Come meet my peoples. Enjoy yourself...but not too much! Duergar don't take ta' change or strangers easily."
"Peoples? How many peoples? As in 10 or... 100?"
Looking at Tanic like he just ate expensive Speckleshroom and spit it out, Harro thumps the Oread in the chest with his fist.
"You makin' a joke o' the Duergar? Gracklstugh too fancy for a cave Droo-ip? Dumb Oread got stones for brains and mushrooms for stones 's what I say. Stay here f' all I care!"
Turning to Hemeth, Harro nods his head towards the exit.
"Com-mon! I hears mushroom beer callin' my name."
Talindra notices that one of the casks doesn't seem to be properly sealed and by hanging back a little she manages to covertly lift the lid and dip a hand in.
The liquid inside seems oddly viscous, more like oil than water. As Talindra carefully withdraws her hand it brushes against a sharp piece of metal. Startled at the sudden unexpected pain, she pulls her hand out quickly, drawing attention to her self whilst doing so.
Hemeth whirls around at the noise and glares at Talindra, half angry and half ... afraid?
Hemeth eyes Talindra suspiciously but seems to take her word for it.
The sharp metal you felt was very unexpected. It didn't feel rough or unworked. It felt more like a manufactured weapon.
The liquid in casks seems to be a simple mineral oil, of the sort used to prevent weapons and other metal items from rusting.
The Grohlbrorn's Lair is built inside a small cavern complex beneath the Blade Bazaar and is only a short walk away from the warehouse building.
The stuffed head of a Bulette is mounted above the entrance and inside a central chamber serves as a dining room and common area, branching out into different small, twisting halls along which the rooms are excavated.
The dining hall is packed to the brim with people of all sorts, mostly merchants and their guards but also a few shadier looking individuals.
"I'll go see what sort of deal I can get you on room and board, should I?" asks Hemeth
Harro slaps the other Dwarf on the back and smiles.
"Yeah, its' not like wees' escaped the drow with chests full of money! Har-Har!"
Indeed. You'll be looking for jobs next I 'pose? Hemeth remarks, apparently having missed any sarcasm, before hurrying off to speak to the innkeeper.
"Job? Whaaa... I've never had a job before. What's it like?"
Harro 'harrumps' as he grabs an open table and orders a mushroom beer.
"It's like slav'ry but you get paid alomst nudd'in for your work instead of receiv' a lash for your tru'ble!"
"Huh? Hemeth thinks we want to be slaves again? I don't get it. Why are we staying here, again?"
I'd leave these guys if it weren't for the Drow on our tails. Slaves, indeed! Maybe I can talk them into leaving this place?
"You know, I don't think this place is safe. I think we should move on and go further away."
Vinexa looked on with wonder as they entered the city, she'd never seen one like this before. When they first came down she was concerned that Glabagool wouldn't be able to fit but she quickly realized how foolish that thought was. The cube easily squeezed through the opening becoming more of a rectangle for a bit but quickly regaining his own shape afterwards. "Well Glabagool, did you ever think you'd get to see such a place?"
She only half listened to the discussion when the talk of jobs came up. She looked at her companions and said, "Work? I've heard of that, slavery for money right?" She smiled wickedly, "Though some jobs are much more lucrative, and enjoyable, than others." Terra crawled out from Vinexa's cleavage and looked around hungrily, it seemed her spider was hungry and looking for a place to spin a web.
"Now I'm really confused. Is it fun or not? Could someone give me an example?"
Micar walks in awe at the bustling city, too busy to care what trouble Talindra is getting herself into.
As they reach the inn, Micar takes note of the Bulette head and decides to stroll through the blade bizarre. He'll stop occasionally at the vendors, especially any weaponsmiths, taking particular note of the craftsmanship and technique of any interesting blade construction.
Vinexa stretched her arms above her head and mantled her wings causing her form to press against her meager garments enticingly, "It depends on the job. I prefer to do my work in a bed, or on a floor, or in chains, as long as I get to sate my lust and feed I am content..." she ceased stretching and arched an eyebrow as she said, "and I can get paid for it."
"Smuggler? Another one of those silly things. Thanks for warning me. I've heard of how cultures make laws about what is allowed and what is not. I've managed to avoid such nonsense in the past, but I guess I'd better wise up fast. So what are the rules here?"
Harro scratches his head and wracks his memory for some basics.
"Murderin' is bad. Stealin' is bad. Things liken' those."
Glabbagool never imagined seeing so many people. Glabbagool never even knew so many people existed! Glabbagool is excited, but also scared. Nice horned lady will stay close to Glabbagool won't she? Glabbagool responds to Vinexa's remarks. Will Glabbagool need to get a job? Glabbagool adds after listening further to the ongoing conversation.
@Micar Most of the weapons on display are masterwork and a few stalls even have clearly magical weapons on display. The weapons seem highly functional and utilitarian in their design, devoid of the ornamentation usually found on weapons of similar quality produced by drow or many other races.
Something seems a bit off about some of the merchants. You don't quite manage to put your finger on what exactly it is at this time, perhaps with further interactions, but there is certainly something up.
At that point Hemeth reappears and claps Harro on the shoulders. "Good news friends. I managed to get you three large rooms here for a week. No, no don't mention payment, it's the least I can do after you saved me from those fishpeople. Now I'm sure you want to freshen up and I have *ahem* things to see to, so I'll take my leave for now shall I? Bruthwol, the innkeep knows how to contact me if you need anything. Oh and Tanic, be polite to the guards and the slave masters and you should be fine when it comes to rules"
Buppido, the derro who has been with you since escaping the drow seems to have vanished. You can't remember seeing him since you left the warehouse.
I sure hope Buppido doesn't get himself into trouble. I know I wouldn't go off by myself like that in a place like this!
Micar nods at Talindra, "I suppose you're right. I appreciate the company. I'm not used to having others help watch my back."
Micar seems to enjoy watching the people as much as the setting the various wares, "I've never been to a city like this before. It's quite amazing."
Vinexa gave Glabagool a smile and reached out to touch his side gently as she said, "I'll stay close to you friend. Just be warned Talindra and me might draw some very...angry people, one's who might want us to die or suffer because of who or what we are. It might be just as dangerous with me near by." As the thought of Glabagool getting a job the half-succubus smiled and said, "I don't know, you might need one, if we're here long enough. I don't know what you could do though, you aren't exactly built like the rest of us." She smiled, slightly as she said, "Don't worry, we'll figure something out." She took her hand from Glabagool's side and, if his acidic nature bothered her it didn't show in the least.
As Harro appeared again and told them of the rooms he obtained for them Vinexa was rather excited. It had been sometime since she had slept in a real bed and she was looking forward to it. She was quite pleased with the man's gratitude and said to him, "Come visit me tonight if you want a proper thank you."
"Glabby is very useful! He's a master at cleaning things at the very least. I've never seen a path as clean as after he's tread it."