"We think it odd that you do not wish to be part of the greater good of the hive, but I understand that you will not want our greatest gift…"
"Well y'see, each of us come from a diverse range of hives, and although we appreciate the honour afforded us in the offer to join your, erm, collective, we haven't been conditioned, nor are accustomed to have our innermost thoughts and feelings shared with the rest of the hive."
The drow smiles wickedly, "Except maybe Don. He always shares what's on his mind."
"Just as Guldarin is part of Moradin's hive, I serve the Raven Queen. And I see in your princess' plight a situation reminiscent to my own queen's overthrow of Nerull, the previous lord of the dead."
He declares, "I hereby give my full support to whatever scheme my comrades devise to action this change of management."
"Knowledge that can be useful without being in your hive?"
Nayce mutters to his companions, "We don't know where we are going down here. If these things can give us the lay of the land, I think it could be very useful. But I'll kill anything that tries to absorb me into a hive."
The hunter makes a complex gesture that possibly indicates understanding.
"I see. You work within small hives. When enlightment comes, you may yet join a greater hive. You are immature yet."
Mandibles twitch at Cronin.
"Your knowledge would be greater with our hive, but if you will not accept our gift, you must filter it through your single minds. Our princess knows much history."
Helpfully Don adds, "I've been called immature lots of times!"
"You should consume. You may pupate soon," remarks the hunter impassively.
Sensing agreement, it embarks on another burst of conversation in Trignotarb before turning once more to the companions.
"Look at the hanging towers. The old queen nests in the tallest of them. Do not go there. You will be gifted by her guards. You must speak first to the princess."
It points out another imposing tower, heavily adorned with flowers. "There."
Cronin considers, then changes languages.
Giant:
The Trignotarbs show no signs of understanding Cronin. Or none that he can identify, at least.
"Then perhaps as you would be better known to the Princess, it might be best if you introduced us."
More Trignotarb buzzing follows.
"We can carry you one at a time if you wish it. But there are only three of us and one is badly injured and cannot fly with prey."
Nayce raises his eyebrows. "You won't win many allies by calling people 'prey'."
The hunter remains impassive.
"Some of our words may lose something in translation. We are hunters and we carry prey. We are not accustomed to carrying other hunters and savants. There is no proper term for that."
It's hard to judge the exact distance but Nayce thinks the group could make the journey to the relevant hanging tower in a couple of hours.
"I'll pass, either way not all of us are gettin there at the same speed, and as...erh..." He pauses trying to find his words, "Since we're a...a hivething..we, uh..." He coughs, "Prolly best if we travel together."
He mutters something under his breath as he scratches the back of his head, abashed.
Greeg had been quiet up until now, watching proceedings and generally trying not to mess up negotiations. He leaned over to Cronin and spoke quietly now though "The longer we take to get there, the more likely it is others will see us. Might be if the Queen's troops see us then a full blown war might erupt here. I think it's best we take the ride and let the hive think we are food, at least until we're in the Princess' tower."
The big warden wasn't much for subterfuge, but he understood perceived threat well enough to know that a group of invading creatures walking closer to a hive got dealt with swiftly and violently.
"You're right," Cronin answers Greeg. He then addresses the trignotarbs. "We will step aside; we must confer as a hive for a few minutes."
"They can only carry two of us at a time, it seems, especially with Greeg and myself. Four trips will take long, leaving us divided, as well as consuming time from our mission. Perhaps we divide forces? Four of us can go with the trignotarbs in two trips, and the remainder return to find out what that marketplace is."
The drow holds his arms up in anticipation of being airlifted. But with a newly discovered sense of empathy, he realises the trinotarbs will likely get hernias during the process of hauling him, plate armour and all, over to their princess' hive.
And not wanting to be mistaken by slave traders as a potential buyer, Kevaras dons his desert travel attire in preparation for investigating the market.
Don frowns at the prospect, "Well, personally I think this is a pretty stupid idea, I mean its been tough enough as it is without splittin up a gang, but..." He casually tosses a knife into the dirt as he speaks, "If you're all up for it, I guess I got no right to complain."
The Trignotarbs watch impassively as the group discuss their imminent split.
"Your hive is sharing work. This is good."
As Cronin, Andaros, Don and Kevaras start the trek back down the terraces, the uninjured hunters pick up Nayce and Guldarin and take to the air.
Your new surroundings are a bizarre mixture of the familiar and the deeply strange. You stand on what was once the ceiling of a giant-sized tower, looking up through pillars and unpended stairwells now adorned with the ever present vines. Water trickles freely over the structures, and here, closer to the surface, catches the light entrancingly.
The scent is almost overwhelming and the reason is not hard to find. Orchids and lillies bloom freely here, lovingly tended by Trignotarb gardeners. To your relief, they pay no attention to your arrival.
The spokes-hunter folds his wings.
"I must feed and rest, but will bring you to the Princess when I have done so. You have no injured to feed upon. Have you other foodstuffs you can consume?"
He appears to be doing his best to make the guests feel comfortable.
The way back down to the sewer entrance is made easier than the upward journey - you can follow your own path. Back in the increasingly dry sewer system, you readily make your way back to the grating and as before hear the voices speaking in giant above you. Examination of the grating suggests it will be easy enough to lift.
Don starts to move the grate, then pauses. He looks down, "You do realize we're probably going to get jumped first thing, right?"
Upon confirmation and possible readiness, he'll make a grand sewer entrance into the giant's hamlet.
"Yes."
Nayce grimaces at the thought of consuming Guldarin. "Yes, we bring food for travel," he says.
"Now's as good a time as any."
Speaking softly moving not closer than where he is at to pick up the giant's voices, Andaros enacts the Ritual of Revealed Speech. (comprehend langues)
Arcana Check
Nobody troubles the party as you wait, although it is clear that the place is inhabited and buzzing with quiet activity.
Andaros listens and hears nothing more sinister than a polite succession of requests for fruit. The voices are speaking in a particularly precise way, using an old fashioned syntax.
Endurance check,
"Oh, I'm sure we can manage to feed ourselves." Guldarin sounds delighted after his flight. "What a nice garden. I suppose taking a walk through is would give our presence away. What a shame."
Dirt seems to be unphased by the bugs and contemplates how he has eaten bigger.
Market
Market
Market Team
Strength check!
Don grunts, "This thing is rusted over, and I didn't bring a crowbar."
Market
"Your pardon, Don." Cronin moves up to the grate and shifts it aside.
All
Market
Cronin politely shoves Don aside and easily hoists the grate. Peering upwards he can see feet and and hears the conversation still itself. The feet are not those of giants.
Market Team
Don grimaces as the meaty goliath muscles into his spot on the
ladder. "Easy like..." He cautions.
He takes a peep up above, surveys to find anything nearby that could be used for cover. "Best be inconspicuous, let me take a look."
Stealth
Intentions are to survey the area, get a general feel about things, especially hostility to sewer dwellers. Don won't take too long to do this though, so its a cursory look and feel.
Perception
Streetwise
Bug group
As you wait your eyes gradually adjust to the lighting levels the group start to make out other non-Trignotarbs moving about the gardens. They seem dazed, moving steadily and seem to be following orders with great precision. As you watch, a pair of sand giants clamber carefully down the hanging stairwell and start to tend the orchids.
Market group
Don's quick glance is enough to tell him that the market is not inhabited by giants. He sees reptilian humanoids, with large hooded eyes in a variety of leathery skin colours. The great majority are dark green, but here and there he sees some in shades of blue, reddish-brown and grey.
Those closest to the grating are now staring, astonished, at the movement beneath.
Market Team
Don mutters, "No giants, just...well they ain't Dragonborn, and we're already noticed, might as well get up there."
Putting on his best 'sheepish' grin, Don crawls out of the sewer, speaking in common, he admits, "Got lost..." as he scratches the back of his head.
Market group
"You were lost in the sewers?"
The speaker is dark green and holding a bolt of very faded silk in her arms. She is clearly female and politely switches to rather careful common at Don's approach.
None of the creatures make any move to attack. In fact, they seem more interested in returning to their rightful business now that the momentary distraction is over. Courtesy and some curiosity hold a few in place, but most of the dark green creatures shuffle as though anxious to move away.
Market Group
He continues, "Desert actually, So uhm...where am I exactly?"
Don quietly counts this as a success to avoid anymore undue attention, and makes a mental note to work on his lying.
Market group
"You are among the Oklu of the Northern Wall of Kadralu. I am Hrathny and this is the market."
Hrathny interrupts herself. "It is the hour of prayer to Kaima."
She and every other Oklu in the square kneel and start to make ceremonial gestures before chanting quiet words.
Market
Cronin does his best to understand what the chanted words might signify.
Market Group
Cronin does not recognise the name of Kaima at all, but he realises that the chant is part of a daily litany. In this case the celebrants are thanking Kaima for the chance to use their day in her honour.
"We're rather new around here, so yes you might say we got a bit lost... I prefer to think of it as being adventurous in seeking direction."
Market group
Hrathny does not answer until the prayer is complete, but then she rises once more and looks doubtfully at Andaros.
"We are not adventurous. We serve the Kadrana, as Kaima ordained. Will you buy silk?"
Market Group
"Err maybe, we've heard much about, uhm, the quality of it here." He coughs as he looks about, "So uhm, how's your water supply, is it safe to drink?"