Our brave adventurers were still huddled in the mess hall, discussing their plans for freedom. What path would they take? Who could they trust? Jorlan, the acid-scarred (but still quite handsome in profile, if certain half elves are to be believed) dark elf who implied he would assist them by leaving the gate open? Or the dark elf who was bargaining for his life, pointing to the first thing he could see before fleeing under the cover of magic induced darkness? Surely, both the man with nothing to gain and the main desperately trying to stay alive would have equal encouragement to tell them the truth. Otherwise, they would be fools to entertain the suggestion that this desperate, scheming dark elf could have easily made up on the spot order to avoid being run through.
As they continued to ponder over their options, they remained in the mess hall, for some reason. And within moments, they were encountered by a contingent of drow. Drow that included among their ranks Sorn, the elite warrior that single-handedly dismantled their earlier escape attempt with unparalleled combat prowess. And he was not alone!
Sorn called to them, telling him that surrender at this point was pointless. He was done playing games, and promised he would leave their entrails spilled upon the floor. One bold adventurer called out to Sorn, proposing to challenge him in one-on-one combat. Much to his dismay, he found out that Sorn was true to his word.
The drow cast Darkness spells on their daggers, and one by one, threw them in the mess hall. Soon, the place was shrouded in absolute midnight. The heavy footfalls of drow in leather boots filled the room, as did the low growls of angered quaggoth. Sorn was not alone.
“Drow! To arms! Spider’s Web!” Sorn’s command echoed in the mess hall, and sound of hand crossbows being drawn back mixed with practiced footfalls and unsheathed shortswords. The smell of drow poison filled the room, mixing with the aromas of salted meat, dried fruits, and spices from the provisions in the mess hall.
The day might have been lost, and our adventurers forced to actually call Sorn “Daddy” this time had not one enterprising warlock summoned an imp. An imp, with eyes unimpeded by this magical darkness. An imp who sent telepathic messages to its master, pinpointing the drow locations; messages then relayed to the rest of the team.
The resulting battle was not the slaughter the drow had envisioned. For with the superior numbers of our fleeing prisoners, aided by the Devil Sight of the imp, they were able to defend themselves against the superior training and armaments of the drow.
One bold fighter called out to Sorn for a duel in the midst of the fray, then tripped over his own shoes before Sorn could answer. As Sorn sneered and moved in for the kill, the fighter skillfully deflected the death strike, and left the drow elite wide open to another attack.
As the numbers of the drow were whittled down, Sorn surrendered. He offered them safe passage out of the Velkynvelve in exchange for his life. They agreed, and led him out of the mess hall.
Sorn glanced at Sarith, asking him a question in elvish. In reply, Sarith approached their bargaining chip, slitting his throat with a short sword and holding him by the head over the edge of the path. As a restrained Sorn thrashed in his death throes, our noble adventurers watched this spectacle like so much confused cattle. Sarith tossed his body over the edge, saying it would be food for giant spiders.
What must be going through the minds of our adventurers? Sarith had just executed a restrained prisoner in cold blood, that was true, but…had he done that to keep the giant spiders occupied so our heroes could move through the webs below unimpeded? Or had he done that because Sorn had suggested something in Sarith’s past? And what did they think of the display of Ront, pulling out the eye of that drow corpse and offering it to Gruumsh? Or Buppido, slicing open the organs of yet another dark elf?
And what of the rest of the outpost? There are regions of it they haven’t explored. This may be their last opportunity to do so, and they may find treasures of the drow, other prisoners…or more deadly traps.
And what of Ilvara? Surely she would notice their absence, and our heroes know they have no chance facing off against her in combat. And her entourage. They had found out (quite painfully, for one of them) where Shoor’s loyalties lie, but what of Asha? And the half-handsome Jorlan?
As they ponder their next course of action, they seem to have [somehow] nearly forgotten the event that precipitated their escape. What of the demons flying overhead? As more and more drow fall to our heroes, would the demons become more of a threat?
And as more drow fall, their Dancing Lights fall with them. Soon, the cavern would become pitch black again, with any light immediately alerting the drow to their position. Drow that had fended off an attack from demons would be powerful drow indeed.
It was going to be a long walk back to the guard tower Jorlan had mentioned, and they were guided by the sounds of running water and the rapidly fading lights in the cavern. They were so distracted and focused on escape that they would hardly notice a demon that had noticed them….
Players: Ara, Chryso, Fan Fan, Glenn, John Willow, Kelanu, Luth, Nordafrost
Enemies Defeated/Dealt With
Potentiality For Entire Group To Be Re-Captured, Beaten, Submitted To Agonizing Torture And Horrendous Death At The Hands Of The Drow: Entirely at the DM’s discretion