The myconid sprout puffed out what might be a sigh of relief. [sblock=Telepathic Link]
"Well, dear Brinn, heritor of Bannor, heritor of Stave, ak-Haruachai of the Bloodguard, I know a little. I know that Shoor has replaced Jorlan in Mistress's favor. And that since he has, Mistress is freer with the scourge. I know that Shoor carries the stick that Jorlan used to carry, the stick that shot the sticky gobs that trapped Engedi until spiders came and stung her to death. I know that Eldeth will die soon. That Sarith will push Ront to his death. And that Shuushar is the best of us, and though he does not say, he knows the way to Darklake because that is his home. What do you know, dear Brinn? You know, I think, that the Grove is a place of welcome, food, and respite. That is found either by travel through and beyond Gracklstugh, or across the Darklake. That one gets there via a narrow fissure riven by water. That it is governed by Sovereign Phylo and Sovereign Basidia, and that both are wise and calm."[/sblock] Stool leaned in a little closer.
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OOC:
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So it turns out that if we use passive Perception with disadvantage due to low light conditions, no one makes the Perception check I called for. I used the 17 you rolled for an Intelligence check to recall snippets of Neverlight Grove, [MENTION=6799753]lowkey13[/MENTION], since Brinn is going off pure memory of a short-term experience. Make an Insight DC 14 check for Brinn for something different, please.
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The broth arrived in the morning, much earlier than normal. And though it was early, the quaggoth cook was the same, as were the two drow guards who escorted her. Cook left without collecting the empties. Kamael helped Raza to the "humanoid fish," which bowed low in deep veneration to Raza, and spoke in a croaking sort of rumble. Its syllables were foreign but clearly enunciated, careful, and carried calmness.
"I am Shuushar. And you are Raza. As Buppido so sagely pointed out, all shall be as it was intended to be. And perhaps it is so, even now. Though I do not think he realized the import or truth of his words when he spoke them. Who is to say we are in the now, or in the future? Or perhaps we are shadows of our past selves? Ah, but that is a sad thought. But the broth here is sad, so thin, so meager, and so I think I shall help you. Beware Jorlan. Treacherous, that one. A sad shadow of a sad self. Steeped in anger and fear. Still, he would help, I believe. There are three drow guards in the hanging tower by the rope bridge. They are tasked with watching the cell, but often their attention drifts. Monkey brains. There is a basket and a winch to the chasm floor that may prove helpful. Though it will not shoulder the weight of all. There, then. I think we understand one another." Shuushar smiled enigmatically at Raza. He rocked back on his bare heels in pleasure.
Moments later, three drow armed with short swords accompanied by a quaggoth entered the narrow hallway that led to the cell. The quaggoth was not Cook; this one was male, and much, much larger. Everyone heard the jingle of keys affixed to a belt, but only Kamael spied them. When he looked, sure enough, there the keys were. They hung in a bunch, low-lying fruit to tempt the desperate, clasped to the belt of the foremost drow guard. K'nyr, he was called. Solace looked up and spotted the drow entourage. Their timing was off--they were early--but these were the same three that came daily to unlock the gate and force three prisoners to dump out the clay chamber pots. The gate never stayed unlocked for long, just long enough for the guard with keys to remain outside the gate while the quaggoth and two drow entered.
K'nyr sneered at Sarith, then shifted his gaze to Solace. A slow smile spread on his leering face.
"Get back, vermin! Time to feed the ooze!" The quaggoth barked laughter at K'nyr's poor joke. His Highness, coiled like a spring in a nearby crevice, hissed in bitterness.
