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Message: <blockquote data-quote="diaglo" data-source="post: 2101271" data-attributes="member: 2885">Knock, knock, who's there"Which way to the prison?" Fextor screamed in the face of a hobgoblin.The brute cowered and pointed down a side tunnel. The party decided on stealth. Fiddle drank one of his potions. His shadow increased and his body seemed to vanish. He scouted ahead. Vlad followed next. And then the rest of the party. The slaves; 10 in total left here, one female drow had escaped, and 4 lay dead from Fiddle and Fextor's handy work, were left to their own devices. They blithered endlessly about their masters.A half mile or so later, Fiddle entered a cavern. It resembled Erik's map. A green gas filled a chasm. It swirled just below a narrow bridge. Two large stalagmites and an iron portcullis marked the entrance to the prison. To either side of the gate stood two massive misshapen giants, flesh golems. They were fashioned from an assortment of mind flayer, drow, and probably hobgoblin body parts. Neither moved.Fiddle crossed the bridge. At the halfway point a voice spoke to him inside his head."Come no further," it thought. "You are not welcome here surface dweller. Go back now. We eat your kind.""I've come to purchase freedom for an acquaintance," Fiddle replied in Undercommon. "I have much wealth.""Mwwwhuuuahhhh," the voice laughed. "Puny mortal. You have little we need. Go back now.""Okay," Fiddle chipperly sang. "I don't want him anyway. But there was no harm in asking."Fiddle went back to the others and told them Darian was doomed. No one believed him. So Fiddle told them about the cavern, the gas, the golems, and the voice. The party buffed up again on magic. And it was Alya's turn to negotiate Darian's release.The little bard tried and tried or so everyone guessed as the conversation was all in his head. He moved forward just to the edge of everyone's vision. The party prepared their weapons and spells. A few tense moments passed. And then...WHHHAAAAA WHHHAAAA WHAAAA</blockquote>

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