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<blockquote data-quote="(contact)" data-source="post: 1150" data-attributes="member: 41">28-- Gigantic Dungeons Make For Strange Bedfellows.Taran sifts through the remains of the fifteen drow fighters still bleeding out onto the stone floor.&nbsp; &quot;Yup, Lolth worshippers, same house as the others.&nbsp; Nothing else here, though.&quot;There are two exits from this room.&nbsp; Both are barred from this side, but one of them seems to be permanently sealed, with several different means of doing so.&nbsp; &quot;Hey now,&quot; Taran says.&nbsp; &quot;What's on the other side of this door, I wonder?&quot;&quot;Something horrible enough to scare these drow,&quot; Keltie says.Gorquen looks up from the cleaning of her sword.&nbsp; &quot;More of us, then.&quot;The party elects to explore the un-sealed door, and are horrified to find themselves in a long, narrow passage with alcoves cut into one wall at regular intervals-alcoves used to store prisoners and torture victims.Taran slips quietly along the row, looking for signs that the prisoners may be guarded by something other than the fifteen drow that the party just vanquished.&nbsp; Instead, he finds several human prisoners and many drow hanging in manacles.&nbsp; One of the humans seems to have been driven mad from the torment, as he mutters to himself wildly.&nbsp; There are also several drow to be found here, criminals no doubt, or possibly individuals that couldn't bring themselves to complete some ordained act of cruelty and have been sentenced to death by torture for the unforgivable sin of mercy.Taran begins to release the human prisoners, as Thelbar casts a detect evil spell to examine the drow with.&nbsp; The spell reveals some surprising information.&nbsp; Two of the drow are not evil, after all, but the human Taran just released is.Taran is helping the fellow to his feet, and covering him, when Thelbar speaks in Isenthanian.&nbsp; &quot;That one is not to be trusted, brother.&nbsp; The two night-elf women to your left can be, however.&quot;Taran frees the two indicated women, one of whom is so severely wounded that she cannot quite stand without help.&nbsp; The drow thank the party for their freedom.&quot;You.&quot;&nbsp; Taran says, turning to the human.&nbsp; &quot;What's your name.&quot;&quot;My name is Elbis, and I am also grateful to my rescuers, but I must caution you to be wary.&nbsp; These drow should not be released.&nbsp; They are an untrustworthy race, after all.&quot;&quot;We worship the goddess Palatin Eremath,&quot; says the stronger drow woman.&nbsp; &quot;She is a goddess of mercy and redemption.&nbsp; I am Elita, a priestess of the goddess, and this is my acolyte.&quot;&quot;Oh yeah,&quot; Elbis says, rolling his eyes, &quot;That's believable.&quot;&quot;This man,&quot; she says, pointing to Elbis &quot;is a worshipper of Bane.&quot;&quot;Is it true you are a Bannite?&quot; Thelbar asks the man.&quot;Well, I am a citizen of Zhentil Keep, after all,&quot; the man purrs.&quot;He is a cleric of Bane,&quot; Elita says.&quot;A citizen of Zhentil Keep and a cleric of Bane, I was about to say.&quot;&quot;We have heard of the Zhentarim and Bane in Mistledale,&quot; Thelbar says.&quot;Bane is an Evil god,&quot; Taran says.&quot;Evil?&quot; Elbis squawks, &quot;No!&nbsp; Bane does not teach evil.&nbsp; Our faith is misunderstood.&nbsp; Bane merely instructs us to defend ourselves-- Bane teaches a man to repay insults in kind.&quot;&nbsp; Elbis turns to Taran.&nbsp; &quot;If someone slapped you, how would you respond?&quot;&quot;I would beat them,&quot; Taran says matter of factly&quot;And would that make you evil?&quot;Taran laughs, &quot;No, that would give me bruised knuckles.&quot;&quot;Exactly.&nbsp; And after all, who are a pair of drow to level the accusation of evil?&quot;Thelbar steps in front of the Bannite.&nbsp; &quot;We have drow companions, so mind your tongue.&quot;&quot;Of course,&quot; Elbis purrs, &quot;not all drow are evil.&nbsp; I am merely advising you to use due prudence when weighing the statements of strangers.&nbsp; Should we not trust first our own?&nbsp; Bane wants us to be discriminating about our companions.&quot;&quot;Yeah, yeah,&quot; Taran says, interrupting the cleric.&nbsp; &quot;How did you wind up here?&quot;&quot;I was captured, while exploring Undermountain with some associates.&quot;&quot;And you?&quot;&nbsp; Taran turns toward the drow women.&quot;Our order keeps a shrine nearby.&nbsp; We are here searching for artifacts of our faith, which we believe to be somewhere in Undermountain.&quot;&quot;What is Undermountain?&quot;&nbsp; Thelbar asks.&quot;You're in it, pal,&quot; Elbis crows.&nbsp; &quot;The largest dungeon in Faerun.&nbsp; Why, it's said that no mortal has ever seen the full length and breadth of it.&nbsp; But the sad part is, nobody knows the way out.&quot;&quot;That's ridiculous,&quot; Taran says.&nbsp; &quot;You get out the way you got in.&quot;&quot;Uh, huh.&nbsp; And how did you get in?&quot;&nbsp; Elbis asks.&quot;Well, there was a door, but it disappeared . . .&quot;&quot;Uh, huh.&quot; &quot;Alright, I get it.&quot;&nbsp; Taran says.&nbsp; &quot;Gorquen-- take Elita to the guard room, and get her armed.&nbsp; Thel, why don't you see what you can do for the acolyte, healing wise.&nbsp; You,&quot; he says, tossing Elbis a cloak, &quot;can come with me, but if I see you looking like you're even thinking about casting a spell, I'm going to kill you first and speak with dead second.&nbsp; Got it?&quot;&quot;Shouldn't I be armed as well?&quot;&nbsp; Elbis asks.&quot;No.&nbsp; Don't trifle with me, or I might decide you're more trouble than you're worth.&quot;As Gorquen takes the two clerics to scavenge weapons and armor from the party's last battle, Elita cries out.&nbsp; The drow priestess points out Gorquen's falling star birthmark, explaining that it is a symbol of her faith.&nbsp; Gorquen says nothing but offers a silent prayer to Ishlok.Elita walks point with Taran, in order to guide the group to the compound of her faith, which she assures them is close, by Undermountain's standards.&nbsp; They travel through several deserted rooms and corridors, until they stumble upon a band of five ogres squatting around a dice game.The ogres and the party notice one another at just about the same time, and hostilities commence with a predictable suddenness. The ogre's smug confidence turns to shock, and then fright as Taran and Gorquen rip into their ranks, swift on the heels of Thelbar's ubiquitous party favor, fireball.&nbsp; With three of the five ogres slain within seconds, the other two show the party their heels with a quickness.Elbis wisely hangs back during the fighting, and in its aftermath he regards the party with a newfound respect.&nbsp; &quot;Say, with fighters like you in Mistledale, it's no wonder those drow from the Cormanthyr couldn't take over.&quot;&quot;Nor the Zhentarim,&quot; Thelbar interjects.&nbsp; &quot;Keep your opinions to yourself, Bannite, and thank your god we let you live.&quot;&quot;I'm hurt,&quot; Elbis begins.&nbsp; &quot;This is not the way friends talk to one another in Zhentil Keep.&quot;&quot;Nor is it the way friends talk to one another in my homeland,&quot; Thelbar says.&nbsp; &quot;Mark that, Elbis, and grow silent.&quot;The party has several more encounters with hostile bands of monsters, including a large war-band of orcs who scatter in the face of Thelbar's fireball wand, only to flee into the greedy clutches of a group of hungry trolls drawn to the area by the sounds of combat.&nbsp; The next few minutes are an orgy of blood, fire, squealing orcs, rending flesh, fireballs and the steady thwack, thwack of Gorquen and Taran's swordplay.&quot;Undermountain?&nbsp; I love this place!&quot;&nbsp; Taran announces as the last of the burned trolls flees over the corpses of a full score of mutilated orcs.</blockquote>

[QUOTE="(contact), post: 1150, member: 41"] [b]28-- Gigantic Dungeons Make For Strange Bedfellows.[/b] Taran sifts through the remains of the fifteen drow fighters still bleeding out onto the stone floor. "Yup, Lolth worshippers, same house as the others. Nothing else here, though." There are two exits from this room. Both are barred from this side, but one of them seems to be permanently sealed, with several different means of doing so. "Hey now," Taran says. "What's on the other side of this door, I wonder?" "Something horrible enough to scare these drow," Keltie says. Gorquen looks up from the cleaning of her sword. "More of us, then." The party elects to explore the un-sealed door, and are horrified to find themselves in a long, narrow passage with alcoves cut into one wall at regular intervals-alcoves used to store prisoners and torture victims. Taran slips quietly along the row, looking for signs that the prisoners may be guarded by something other than the fifteen drow that the party just vanquished. Instead, he finds several human prisoners and many drow hanging in manacles. One of the humans seems to have been driven mad from the torment, as he mutters to himself wildly. There are also several drow to be found here, criminals no doubt, or possibly individuals that couldn't bring themselves to complete some ordained act of cruelty and have been sentenced to death by torture for the unforgivable sin of mercy. Taran begins to release the human prisoners, as Thelbar casts a [i]detect evil[/i] spell to examine the drow with. The spell reveals some surprising information. Two of the drow are not evil, after all, but the human Taran just released is. Taran is helping the fellow to his feet, and covering him, when Thelbar speaks in Isenthanian. "That one is not to be trusted, brother. The two night-elf women to your left can be, however." Taran frees the two indicated women, one of whom is so severely wounded that she cannot quite stand without help. The drow thank the party for their freedom. "You." Taran says, turning to the human. "What's your name." "My name is Elbis, and I am also grateful to my rescuers, but I must caution you to be wary. These drow should not be released. They are an untrustworthy race, after all." "We worship the goddess Palatin Eremath," says the stronger drow woman. "She is a goddess of mercy and redemption. I am Elita, a priestess of the goddess, and this is my acolyte." "Oh yeah," Elbis says, rolling his eyes, "That's believable." "This man," she says, pointing to Elbis "is a worshipper of Bane." "Is it true you are a Bannite?" Thelbar asks the man. "Well, I am a citizen of Zhentil Keep, after all," the man purrs. "He is a [i]cleric[/i] of Bane," Elita says. "A citizen of Zhentil Keep [i]and[/i] a cleric of Bane, I was about to say." "We have heard of the Zhentarim and Bane in Mistledale," Thelbar says. "Bane is an Evil god," Taran says. "Evil?" Elbis squawks, "No! Bane does not teach [i]evil[/i]. Our faith is misunderstood. Bane merely instructs us to defend ourselves-- Bane teaches a man to repay insults in kind." Elbis turns to Taran. "If someone slapped you, how would you respond?" "I would beat them," Taran says matter of factly "And would that make you [i]evil[/i]?" Taran laughs, "No, that would give me bruised knuckles." "Exactly. And after all, who are a pair of drow to level the accusation of evil?" Thelbar steps in front of the Bannite. "We have drow companions, so mind your tongue." "Of course," Elbis purrs, "not [i]all[/i] drow are evil. I am merely advising you to use due prudence when weighing the statements of strangers. Should we not trust first our own? Bane wants us to be discriminating about our companions." "Yeah, yeah," Taran says, interrupting the cleric. "How did you wind up here?" "I was captured, while exploring Undermountain with some associates." "And you?" Taran turns toward the drow women. "Our order keeps a shrine nearby. We are here searching for artifacts of our faith, which we believe to be somewhere in Undermountain." "What is Undermountain?" Thelbar asks. "You're in it, pal," Elbis crows. "The largest dungeon in Faerun. Why, it's said that no mortal has ever seen the full length and breadth of it. But the sad part is, nobody knows the way out." "That's ridiculous," Taran says. "You get out the way you got in." "Uh, huh. And how did you get in?" Elbis asks. "Well, there was a door, but it disappeared . . ." "Uh, huh." "Alright, I get it." Taran says. "Gorquen-- take Elita to the guard room, and get her armed. Thel, why don't you see what you can do for the acolyte, healing wise. You," he says, tossing Elbis a cloak, "can come with me, but if I see you looking like you're even thinking about casting a spell, I'm going to kill you first and [i]speak with dead[/i] second. Got it?" "Shouldn't I be armed as well?" Elbis asks. "No. Don't trifle with me, or I might decide you're more trouble than you're worth." As Gorquen takes the two clerics to scavenge weapons and armor from the party's last battle, Elita cries out. The drow priestess points out Gorquen's falling star birthmark, explaining that it is a symbol of her faith. Gorquen says nothing but offers a silent prayer to Ishlok. Elita walks point with Taran, in order to guide the group to the compound of her faith, which she assures them is close, by Undermountain's standards. They travel through several deserted rooms and corridors, until they stumble upon a band of five ogres squatting around a dice game. The ogres and the party notice one another at just about the same time, and hostilities commence with a predictable suddenness. The ogre's smug confidence turns to shock, and then fright as Taran and Gorquen rip into their ranks, swift on the heels of Thelbar's ubiquitous party favor, [i]fireball[/i]. With three of the five ogres slain within seconds, the other two show the party their heels with a quickness. Elbis wisely hangs back during the fighting, and in its aftermath he regards the party with a newfound respect. "Say, with fighters like you in Mistledale, it's no wonder those drow from the Cormanthyr couldn't take over." "Nor the Zhentarim," Thelbar interjects. "Keep your opinions to yourself, Bannite, and thank your god we let you live." "I'm hurt," Elbis begins. "This is not the way friends talk to one another in Zhentil Keep." "Nor is it the way friends talk to one another in my homeland," Thelbar says. "Mark that, Elbis, and grow silent." The party has several more encounters with hostile bands of monsters, including a large war-band of orcs who scatter in the face of Thelbar's [i]fireball[/i] wand, only to flee into the greedy clutches of a group of hungry trolls drawn to the area by the sounds of combat. The next few minutes are an orgy of blood, fire, squealing orcs, rending flesh, [i]fireballs[/i] and the steady thwack, thwack of Gorquen and Taran's swordplay. "Undermountain? I love this place!" Taran announces as the last of the burned trolls flees over the corpses of a full score of mutilated orcs. [/QUOTE]

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