Kraz attacks the bloodied orc in front of him.
"Your kind will never learn!"
Despite the heaviness in his limbs, Kraz manages to deliver the killing blow to the orc in front of him, burying his greatsword in its skull. Nilelane manoeuvres up behind Sorin to get a good shot with her ray attack and releases it, striking the beast in the chest. The frenzying creature clutches its now frozen chest and flops to the ground.
The last remaining opponent, seeing its allies drop like flies, turns tail and attempts to flee.
The shaggy orc evades Kraz's blow and hares off down the tunnel to the north.
Seeing the Furry turn and run, Beerg steps forward past Kraz, dropping his greatsword and pulling a spear. In a violent jerk he hurles the spear down the alleyway.
Beerg then pulls hard against the wall in case anything is coming back or coming from his party.
'Nilelane!get your lights down that crevice! Get your shot of Jack! Bring him down. We don't want more alerted! Beerg yells with haste as he slams into the wall.
Sorin will move 30 ft following the Orc, as she does so she asks for Torm to help her strike down her foe. She is pleased to see her prayer answered as divine flames seem to envelope the creature.
Both Nilelane and Sorin rush forward to keep the fleeing creature within range of their spells. Nilelane's greasy ball coats the ground beneath the shaggy orc, and it slips up, landing heavily on its back. Then Sorin's holy flame of Torm envelopes it, and it screams briefly.
Jack moves swiftly towards the creature, drawing his rapier as he goes. He thrusts it menacingly at the beast hoping to keep it from escaping.
Jack holds his rapier at the creature's throat, and it grunts and stops trying to rise, holding its claw-like hands up in submission.
"Grag pasga charab turinde. Gragni o'ldirmeng!" it growls, fearfully you think.
Kraz moves up to support Jack.
Not understanding the half-breed Kraz tries to speak back.
"Drop yer weapons! One wrong move and Kraz will cut you down!"
The boogin goes to snarl at Kraz, but fear gets the better of it, and it shrinks back into itself. "Tushunmyapman! Gragga borilik!"
Kraz tries it again in common..
The boogin's face pales at the sight of the torture device, and holds as still as possible, Jack's rapier still at its throat.
Nilelane looks over the drow, looking for hints of why he was here, and what he was doing, but can discern the answers to neither of these questions. She does note that this drow is not wearing the fabled magical accoutrements that the stories describe - no magical cloak, or boots, or adamantine chainmail. She does, however, find its hand crossbow, 18 bolts, a vial of the same dark poison, a rapier, a regular chain shirt, a piece of mouldy cheese wrapped in a handkerchief, and 15 copper pieces.
The cheese is pungent, delicious if one likes that sort of thing, although Nilelane can't be sure what animal's milk it is made from. Crackers would definitely help balance the powerful flavour of the cheese, as would a soft red wine.
”Let us take him back to the keep. Perhaps someone there can speak to him. “ Sorin moves to check the other bodies for anything of value or importance. She also attempts to move the bodies to a more descrete location.
”This is far from a proper burial for anyone, including Orcs and Drow” If time and material allow, she will at least try to cover the bodies with stone. If not, she says a prayer to Torm and hope that that we may return to properly bury them.
Sorin looks through the other bodies, but the only things she finds that could possibly be of any value are a deck of cards in an unfamiliar style, and a large pouch of what appear to be different kinds of fungus.
"Well let's take this fellow back and maybe re-equip ourselves and rest before coming back. Let's take the drow's items as well...even though they are not "special", they may still tell a story."
Sorin sighs briefly as her work is undone. With resigned look on her face, she nods and says”I suppose you’re right. We should bring him back as evidence. “
the drow would be damning proof that there is more at play here than we originally thought? Beerg agreeingly nods as Nilelane pulls the dead hand from the fresh grave.
we will need to bring the shaggy one back with us too. We cant let him go and ensure travel safely back.
Beerg begins hoisting the drow out of the grave muttering holy words to Torm as he does.
do we have spare rope for the shaggy one?
"Kraz has some rope and he will carry the dead drow back.."
He hefts the dead body over his shoulder and starts to head back.
10am, 7th of Eleint, 1367 DR
The journey back through the caves is fairly uneventful, and thanks to Nilelane's careful mapping, takes less than an hour. You make your way back over the bridge across the ravine and head up the corridor to the door Captain Thurbal locked behind you, and beat on it for a minute or two before you hear the bolt being drawn. The door opens slowly, and you see the points of two longswords greeting you. Once the guards recognise you, they lower their weapons. "Back already, are ye?" one asks. "That didn't take so long!" It has been little more than a day since you delved into the caves, yet it feels like a tenday.
The guard's joking expression falls away once he sees the boogin prisoner, and the dead drow on Nilelane's floating magical disc, and the pair of guards swiftly take custody of the orc/quaggoth hybrid, leading you back to the Twisted Tower's basement level. The prisoner is thrown in a cell immediately, none too kindly, and the drow's corpse is put in a cell for the time being. The guards then escort you up into the Tower proper to see Thurbal in his office.
Seated at his desk once more, he seems somewhat surprised to see you back so quickly. The guard who spoke to you, a solidly-built man with a lantern jaw, stays in the office. "Sir, the adventurers have returned with a boogin prisoner, and the body of a drow warrior." Thurbal nods to him. "Good work Hoskel, I'll take it from here." Hoskel salutes and leaves, then Thurbal turns to you. "Report."
Not sure who quite the as going to speak for the party, steps forward. ”Drow and some sort of orcs were found beyond the door. We also found the fate of yoi missing guard. We captured one of the orc-creatures but were unable to speak it’s language. We are hoping that by bringing it back here that we may be able to question him for more information. “ with the report concluded she steps back and waits for the others assessment.
Thurbal, there appears to be a greater scheme going on down in the under grounds. Yes we have a Boogin captured for questioning. We fought a Drow and rescued a dwarf who had been captured for information from Tilver's Gap. He believed the drow where planning on attacking their hold for reasons he did not know. He is hasted to this location now to warn his family.
Further more one of the head Orcs that was leading a scouting party down there referred to a leader known as Kurastan... Does this name mean anything to you?
Beerg barely gets a breath in after unloading this information once Sorin had broken the silence.
Jack slyly also shows the ring that he took from the fellow in the tavern some days ago.
"There is this as well oh, and this sword. It looks pretty distinctive...thought you might know if it belong to anyone here!", he says showing the ring and sword to Thurbal.
Kraz would like to add about the Gumbo we fought.
He seems proud that he added something to the conversation.
At the mention of the guardsmen, Thurbal's eyebrows raise. "You found young Apseed...? That's good news. His mother and betrothed will appreciate that. And that," he continues, pointing at the finely made sword Jack reveals, "was Apseed's and his father's before him. 'Tis a valued family heirloom." He holds out his hands, waiting to take it from Jack.
"As for the creatures... We'll try to get some information out of the prisoner. I've never heard of any Kurastan. I'm concerned with what might be happening down there. Normally, I'd tell you to wait and see what the prisoner gives us, but we have... other issues."
Thurbal leans back, looking searchingly at your faces. "Shadowdale has another visitor today. A merchant from Voonlar. Claims to be chasing some criminals. Has three Voonlar guardsmen with him to arrest the culprits. Four of them, one pair a small dark thief with a half-orc accomplice, the second pair a crazy elf woman and a female half-elf Tormite. Charges range from theft, to assault, to running out on unpaid debts." He continues to inspect your faces closely, then glances at Beerg. "Nothing about a half-orc Tormite paladin. Looks like you're in the clear. Well? What do the rest of you have to say for yourselves?" His gaze is steely, but hard to read.
”The Voonlar must be in league with Zhents then, for it as the Zhentatim that we fought off now almost a ten day hence.” not completely understanding th pollitics of Voonlar and Shadowdale, Sorin says these things matter of factly as if her answer was clear and unrefuteable that what her and her friends had done was just and within the law.
"Kraz stole nothing and owes nothing! But if someone is lying about Kraz he will be glad to do some assaulting.."
Thurbal looks at Nilelane and Jack, who are yet to speak, but before they can he rubs his face wearily. "I think you are probably right, Greystone. The bron of Voonlar is reportedly a puppet of Zhentil Keep, and Shadowdale has ever had troublesome relations with both. In any case, whatever crimes you may have committed, they were not undertaken on Shadowdale land, and Lord Mourngrym is not obliged to search for or assist in apprehending those who may have done such things in other lands. Still, you are a fairly recognisable group, and this "merchant's" men may have confirmation that you're in town. It could cause trouble for my Lord. Hopefully, the Zhents are not prepared to use this matter as a pretext for open hostilities. I suggest you resupply swiftly and get back to work down in those tunnels. With any luck, Mourngrym can defuse the situation before you get back. We can discuss the matter when you return. And we need to know what these drow are up to." His suggestion carries the weight of an order.
Kraz thinks if we can sell this extra equipment maybe we can afford some them healing potions. Also he thinks we should question that Boogan before we head back down..
None of the three are pleasant, mind ye, but some are more dangerous than others. The least likely to be dangerous of the lot is a Zhent, which is a way to say anybody from the blasted Keep. Many of these citizens have taken to the road since Cyrics downfallat least those who were lucky enough to escape the city. Now, a Zhent is not automatically a Zhentilar or a Zhentarim, but they are all Zhents.
The Zhentilar are who a person meets most often outside the walls of Zhentil Keepand they are the most obvious threat to the lands of the south. Ye see, the Zhentilar are the swords and spells of Zhentil Keep, the soldiers and mages that are the armies of the Zhents. Good king Azoun and his Purple Dragons have fought the Zhentilar more than a few times, and even I, Elminster, have faced them down in Shadowdale. But heres more to the riddlea Zhentilar is a Zhent, but he is not assured to be a Zhentarim.
Elminster drew in a mouthful of sweet smoke from his pipe and set it aside for a taste of wine. The pipe puffed contentedly by itself until he reached to take it up again. The Zhentarim are the most dangerous of this wicked lot. They can be found anywhere, not just in Zhentil Keep. In some cities they are called the Black Network, and it is a name that well suits them. In theory the Zhentarim serve only one master: Manshoon, Lord of the Zhentarim. Elminsters lips curled with a tinge of distaste at that name. Manshoon built the Zhentarim years ago as his own network of spies and assassins. He was just setting himself up as High Lord of the Keep and did not trust his fellow Zhents or Zhentilar. Now there is a point I agree with him on. There is a saying in Mulmaster taverns that 'Fear and loyalty are the same word.' The Red Cloaks know quite a bit about that, too. There was a time when I
I unsubtly coughed, and Elminster stopped to gaze at me with irritation.
I was about to say, the mage archly continued, that I saw an entire Zhentilar patrol change sides as soon as their Zhentarim commander was killed. Not that it did them much good, because when word reached the Zhentarim, everyone in that patrol was hunted down and slain as an example to others.
As long as Manshoon stays strong, the Zhentarim are loyal to him, or at least most of them are. Like every Zhent, they are ambitious and scheme against themselves almost as much as they do the outside world. There is always at least one plot festering against Manshoon, but I do not think he will fall to one of his underlings. He has been known to disappear for a timewhy, Ive even spread rumors of his death just so his enemies, or allies, would tip their hands.
The other thing that marks the Black Network as different from the Zhentilar is its goal. The Zhentilar are soldiers and mages, eager to conquer an empire for Zhentil Keep. The Zhentarim are subtler. They know Cormyr, Sembia, and the others would ally to fight the threat of Zhentilar soldiers. They remember the last time Zhentil Keep tried this.
The Zhentarim goal is to control the trade of all the Dalelands and beyond. To do this, they work in the shadows. It is hard for the Purple Dragons to crush an enemy that does not take the field against them. The Zhentarim corrupt officials, terrorize caravans, and charm merchants into setting prices the Zhentarim like.
I set down my glass and gestured toward the handbills. A few spies and intriguers hardly seems worth such a harsh response, though.
Elminster sighed, finished his glass, and rose to go. Such is the cunning of the Black Network. Do ye remember when the price of grain jumped a year ago? He didnt expect an answer from me. Now, why did that happen? Perhaps it was because just a month later Sembian troops were to move on a series of Zhentarim strongholdsuntil the price of grain went up and the cost of feeding all those soldiers and horses was more than the Sembians were willing to risk on the venture.
And what if all goods were controlled by the Black Network, lad? Elminster added with a final fillip as he prepared his spell to leave. That is why the good folk of the Dalelands fear the Zhentarim.
Captain Thurbal offers to give you some coin for weapons, armour, and any other practical items you may have found.
His eyes widen in surprise as Nilelane returns, appearing now as a Halruuan merchant, or wealthy traveller. "I suppose that will do the trick. I'll have my men escort you out."
The rest of you are escorted down to the dungeon level that leads back to the tunnels, and into a large chamber that looks like it may have been... blasted out. It is filled with stacked crates of bottled beer, barrels of pickled fish, and other boxes of foodstuffs, and illuminated by a brightly glowing magical ball of light near the ceiling, as well as by a few torches ensconced on the rocky walls. Six off-duty guardsmen sit around a table, each with a beer bottle in hand, engrossed in a game of dice. One of your escorts chuckles. "Any of you like to gamble? I'm sure the lads would appreciate some greenhorns joining their game. Oh, and help yourself to a bottle if you like. I've got to head back up top, enjoy your rest." With that, the on-duty guardsmen wave to their fellows and exit the chamber.
It seems as though we come of sell the Greatswords, hide armor, chain shirt, drow rapier, and crossbow. There is also no value listed for the obsidian and citrines from the Gumbo.