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<blockquote data-quote="htetickrt" data-source="post: 1659626" data-attributes="member: 16534"><p>Here's the last episode of active discourse before the bloodshed begins. I've posted a couple of enemies' stats in the previous two posts as a teaser.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">Deal with a Drow</p><p></p><p>Kai pauses a moment before answering, "We're listening," without raising her voice.</p><p></p><p>Solom smiles, revealing brilliantly white, perfectly straight teeth. "Excellent. What I offer is a simple deal. You, no doubt, desire an end to the raids on the surface. I can supply this. I desire an end to endless uninspired theocratic rule. With my aid, you can supply this. When the priests in power are no more, and I rule Szith Morcane, I will make sure that no drow trouble your surface realms.</p><p></p><p>"So, do we have a deal?"</p><p></p><p>Quid snaps back, “Not so fast Mr. Pretty Boy. I have a few questions. Also, perhaps as a show of good will, you release the web that surrounds us?”</p><p></p><p>Solom narrows his eyes, but remains calm after Quid's decidedly undiplomatic display. "If I release the webbing, the slaves you have stolen will make a mess of my foyer. Regardless, I see little reason to return stolen property to you. You have already destroyed enough of my city as it is."</p><p></p><p>“Why should we trust that you would honor your terms?” the Waukeenar snaps back.</p><p></p><p>"My part of the bargain will be accomplished before you take any further risk yourselves. The only party who will need to trust the other is I. You are trustworthy, are you not?"</p><p></p><p>"What exactly would be required of us?”</p><p></p><p>Solom chuckles mirthlessly. "I am ever wondering why anyone would covet the surface realms, when the horrid sun is so apt to fry the brain. You are to kill every priest left in Szith Morcane, whether she follows the Spider Queen or the Pale Lady. Is that simple enough, or are visual aids required?"</p><p></p><p>Quid retorts, “There doesn't seem to be much of Szith Morcane left to rule over, so why bother?”</p><p></p><p>Solom’s voice dips into a dangerous growl. "My motives are not your concern. They are as beyond your comprehension as your puerile meanderings are indecipherable to the rats that gnaw your boots in the night."</p><p></p><p>Quid is undeterred. “Of course stable governments are always best for markets to flourish, but…"</p><p></p><p>Solom cuts her off. "Do you find your own voice amusing, Waukeenar? For I do not."</p><p></p><p>After Quid's heated exchange, Trella takes the floor, placing a calming hand on the priest’s shoulder. "Hi, uh, Mr. Ned-razak, is it? Anyway, name's Trella, not that you care, but we have a prior agreement with members of House Morcane and have pledged to help them rid their ancestral home of the followers of the White Banshee who invaded it. Of course you know that. But, see, we are honorable people and cannot enter into an agreement that would violate our preexisting promise; you may use magic to scry my intentions if you doubt my words. I just want to clarify our position because you asked whether or not we are trustworthy, and the answer is yes; even if it means having to fight to our certain deaths, we keep our promises and won't betray members of House Morcane. Me personally, I have no problem ridding you of what seems to be a sizable headache, but we need to be clear on the limits."</p><p></p><p>Andy, standing nearby, can barely keep her teeth from chattering.</p><p></p><p>Solom sneers. "House Morcane is dead. Their foolish priests were slaughtered like cattle when Lolth went silent and the rest fled like the cowards they are. I am not of that House, nor am I a T'sarran or allied with their cult of the White Banshee. You need not fear breaking any prior oath through dealings with me."</p><p></p><p>Kai returns to an earlier assertion. "You claim you can put an end to the raids immediately. What proof of this will we have?"</p><p></p><p>Solom's mouth twists into a smirk. "You won't see any more raids."</p><p></p><p>Kai boldly ventures, "True—not from down here, where we'll be fighting clerics, we won't."</p><p></p><p>"Expecting to take a week fighting priests, do you? Perhaps I should offer this deal to the slaves."</p><p></p><p>Kai purses her lips. "Not good enough. Suppose you tell us who is carrying out the raids and what power you have over them."</p><p></p><p>"The raids were ordered by the T'sarrans. When they are dead, they cannot order additional raids. I have no interest in your sun-scorched excuse for a civilization, so I will not be continuing the practice."</p><p></p><p>Kai considers this. "And you will hold this outpost against other chaos-loving servants of the Banshee, should they come in the future? We have heard that they are gaining power elsewhere in the Underdark."</p><p></p><p>The archmage shrugs. "Either I will or I will be dead. In either case your outcome is optimal."</p><p></p><p>The sorceress turns to her companions with raised eyebrows. "What do you guys think? I'm tempted, but remember I wanted to leave the mages alone in the first place."</p><p></p><p>Quid concentrates, calling upon her faith to discern Solom’s motives. She quickly determines with it that the archmage is not actually there, however; an image is holding court with the party.</p><p></p><p>Frustrated, she announces to the projection, "I would be more than happy to deal with you Mr. Pretty Boy, but I am still not clear what we get out of this deal. You want us to kill the priests we find so that they will stop raiding, and all we get is your sovereignty over the entire outpost. It does not seem like a balanced trade, does it?"</p><p></p><p>"Not if you conveniently leave out pieces of it, Waukeenar. I help you kill the priests, as I said. You would not succeed on your own. Further, since you were clearly planning on attempting to extirpate every drow with whom you came into contact, all I require is that you leave my tower, and any remaining slaves and commoners, alone. Frankly, you should do this without my aid, as you face certain death at my hands should you choose to test your pitiful might against mine."</p><p></p><p>Quid groans. "That's the part I was wondering about. Duh. What kind of help?"</p><p></p><p>Solom reverts to his earlier sneer. "You'll find out when you need to, Waukeenar. Suffice it to say, it will be with something you could not possibly accomplish yourself."</p><p></p><p>Quid presses on, "Also, hasn’t it been your boys on all these hunter-killer groups we've been dealing with? Like that chubby fellow that helped kill my friend? Why the sudden change of heart?"</p><p></p><p>"My boys? The T'sarran control their 'teams' and determine their makeup. I aid them minimally to stave off annoying interference in my work. I would prefer to keep my students here, in training as they should be. My heart has not changed."</p><p></p><p>"Finally, I believe Trella's concern was that you asked us to kill all priests we find, but we would be obliged not to kill members of Morcane that we may or may not come across."</p><p></p><p>"And I replied that House Morcane is dead. Really, you should learn to pay greater attention when your betters speak. There are no living members of it in this outpost; hence, there will be no conflict of interest for you.”</p><p></p><p>Solom’s image smoothes its shirt. "I grow tired of this back and forth. Make your inevitable decision so that I may return to my work in peace."</p><p></p><p>Trella replies, both to Solom and to Kai’s earlier question, "Our foremost goal in this excursion was to stop the raids. If agreeing to help ghost boy here will further that agenda, then I say we do it. Can't wait to see what he provides us by way of help."</p><p></p><p>Andy reluctantly nods and whispers, "Do whatever will keep him from getting upset with us."</p><p></p><p>Calla barely restrains a murderous desire to separate the archmage’s guards from their heads. She says in a strained whisper, "I, for one, don't trust him," and then retreats into shadow.</p><p></p><p>Kai adds, "We can ask him to spell out what he'll do for us. Heck, we could even ask him to give us back his slaves. I don't really mind either way, so the final word is up to you guys."</p><p></p><p>Danek frowns, knowing diplomacy isn't her strong suit. Kyree adjusts his stance in frustration, but says nothing.</p><p></p><p>Rhien gazes darkly at the mass of goblins. "I didn't like training them, but now that we have I don't believe it's right to hand them back to the drow."</p><p></p><p>Quid shrugs. “‘Mergers 5<img src="http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/1.gif" class="smilie" loading="lazy" alt=":1:" title="One :1:" data-shortname=":1:" /> The enemy of my enemy is a sucker.’ We might as well use what resources are available. Then perhaps we leave our goblin horde here to watch over the tower while we seek the other drow. I will not condone the institution of slavery.”</p><p></p><p>More thoughtfully, she concludes, “I agree with Calla though. Be very aware of treachery….”</p><p></p><p>Trella nods. “We’ll put it to a vote, but I want the slaves freed as a term of the deal.” She, Andy, Kai, Quid, Lenara, and Rhien come out for some variant of the bargain. Calla is strongly opposed, maintaining her position in the darkness. Kyree stares at the goblin horde with narrowed eyes, wanting entirely too much to shoot them all. Cerridwin stands still, her very existence freaking out several other party members. Danek stays out of the discussion. Khail debates morality with his steed, and gets nowhere. Dobi remains deceased. Buttercup’s head hurts.</p><p></p><p>Trella proclaims, "Sorry, Calla, looks like we're making this deal."</p><p></p><p>The slaves mutter restlessly while they are the topic of discussion. They relax a bit when Trella makes it clear that she wants them freed as part of the deal.</p><p> </p><p>Solom responds calmly, "The slaves are not your property; they belong to the city, which is to be mine. If you desire them freed, you must provide adequate recompense. I consider this separate from the deal at hand. However, if you cannot perform the same mental trick, I will accept fifty gold per goblin head, 100 per bugbear, two thousand for each giant, and three thousand for their leader. These prices are non-negotiable, but you may purchase fewer than the full quantity of slaves."</p><p></p><p>Kai gives a thin smile. "As you point out, the city is not yours yet. These creatures are currently the property of the T'sarrans. As you decline to elaborate on how you will help us, surely you understand our desire to use every asset at our disposal to defeat our mutual enemy. You may take possession of the city after we have succeeded."</p><p></p><p>Solom's answering smile matches Kai's. "I applaud your attempt, but it is insufficient. As the archmage of Szith Morcane, I have the right to utilize the city's slaves in any way I desire. They are useful in their fashion, and if I were to lose them I would require compensation. If you indemnify me for their potential—or should I say, nearly guaranteed—demise at the hands of the priests, then that would be sufficient as well."</p><p></p><p>Before anyone can respond, Thulk makes his displeasure known. "You promise to train us, not kill us or bring us back to drow! We leave now!"</p><p></p><p>Solom chuckles. "And where will you go, little slave? These people have upset the delicate balance you once kept, and most of those still loyal to you are trapped here until I desire their release."</p><p></p><p>The archmage taps his index finger against his lips thoughtfully. "No, I think you shall stay here. With such wanton destruction through most of this city, I shall need guards of the more mundane sort to keep the riffraff out until I can repopulate the outpost. You will do nicely, or provide food for those who will do better."</p><p></p><p>Solom turns back to the party. "Or, your payment will allow me to acquire a more competent staff. Your choice, but make it quickly. My patience grows thin."</p><p></p><p>Quid retorts, "Though I am morally against the trucking and bartering of intelligent life, I acknowledge the legitimacy of your system of property rights. However, given the recent collapse of order in Szith Morcane (under your watch), I see no reason to abide by them. So I think we should take them with us. It is not in your interest to try to stop us."</p><p></p><p>Solom scowls. "Pray tell, how does your miniscule intellect lead you to that conclusion?"</p><p></p><p>Before she can respond, the drow crosses his arms in front of him. "This discussion is leading us nowhere. MY slaves will be staying with me unless you decide to buy them. You may have my aid in disposing of the remaining T'sarran priests, IF you agree to my terms. Otherwise you would be well advised to fly from here, as my patience with your prattling is nearly exhausted."</p><p></p><p>Rhien's brown eyes are hard as he glares at the archmage of Szith Morcane. "This is not right," he whispers. "Against my better judgment we trained them to fight. We cannot simply abandon them to this fiend."</p><p></p><p>Calla emerges from the shadows snarling, her face a feral mask of hatred. "He's no worse than the rest. The drow should be extinguished, every one of them."</p><p></p><p>Danek mutters, "If we want to fight this guy, I don't mind. But why do it over a bunch of goblins? They probably won't be that much help." She leaves unsaid that she doesn't think she herself is that helpful in most battles.</p><p></p><p>Trella massages her temples as the argument's back and forth takes its toll. To the increasingly annoyed mage, she says, "Okay, let me offer a compromise." To Thulk, she says, "He is correct, even with your training, you are likely to be killed as we lay siege to the priests. You may not believe me, but this place may be safer for you in the short term. I have not lied to you and am not doing so now, so please trust me."</p><p></p><p>Before he and the other slaves can go crazy, she turns back to the archmage, "We will pay you as much as we can afford now, and return with whatever more is necessary as full compensation for the slaves. Consider the money a down payment on the whole group as well as a gesture to show our good faith in honoring both our bargains with you. In return for our gesture, I ask that the slaves be treated well, provided food, shelter, and safety. As some of them are our property, and the rest will be our property in a short time, we will expect that our interests will be served to the best of your formidable abilities in our absence. This should satisfy you, seeing as you will end up with sufficient funds to purchase slaves more to your liking."</p><p></p><p>Smoothing out her robes, she exudes serene calm. "Do we have a deal, or should we resort to messy, and needless, fighting? Clearly you can see the lengths we are willing to go to in order to honor a promise?"</p><p></p><p>The mage inclines his head. "Very well. My nonnegotiable price for all the slaves is 9,500 gold. I will accept half that now, with the other half due upon completion of the rest of the bargain. In the meantime, I will keep them safe."</p><p></p><p>Calla interjects her thoughts, hissing, "Are you all mad?! We're paying thousands of gold to free goblins and bugbears from this fop and worse, trusting in his honor to keep a bargain? Drow have no honor. Do we need his help this badly? Perhaps I have misjudged you all." The halfling skulks off.</p><p></p><p>Thulk looks distressed as he figures out what's going on. He whispers conspiratorially, "Little one right. You should no trust drow. You leave us here, we die. Pay for us to be free, or sneak back fast and kill mage. Only way to be safe."</p><p></p><p>Quid says, “I agree with Calla. I am hesitant to leave them here, to place so much trust in this drow, and to expend so much capital on his distasteful enterprise.” Turning to face the archmage, she adds, “I dislike the arrogance in your tone, Mr. Pretty Boy. However, if the group does insist that he should be paid, I offer that we pay half now and take the goblins and bugbears with us. I will pledge to the fair lady herself that we will return with the other half. Of course Thulk, the money would come out of your share.” She says the latter under her breath.</p><p></p><p>Solom is displeased at Quid's tone, but says through clenched teeth. "Fine, take the simpering slaves if it means I don't have to listen to your prattle any more. The money is due upon your return, whether or not they die in your assault. It is your responsibility to free them from the webs."</p><p></p><p>Khail, looking unhappy about the whole exchange, shrugs at this. "No problem." The paladin pushes past the rest of the part, waves his blade…and the webs vanish as if they never were. The freed goblins nearly crush him in their haste to leave the mage's demesne.</p><p></p><p>Quid queries Thulk about additional slaves, her eyes gleaming at the promise of a glorious slave rebellion. His response is less than encouraging, though, and she abandons such grandiose notions as she pays for the slaves’ freedom.</p><p></p><p>Solom grins wickedly as he watches the goblins shove each other to escape the tower. “Meet me at the entrance to the home of House Morcane. There I will provide my promised aid.” The image vanishes after he finishes his orders. Trella herds the slaves out and down, bringing them to perhaps the most dangerous level of the outpost: the lair of Dorina T’sarran.</p><p></p><p>Solom is already there, standing near the front of the room and idly tapping a wand into his palm. “I was wondering when you would arrive,” he says, rather predictably. “I was beginning to fear you were sent hurtling to your deaths in the waters far below by your precious slaves.”</p><p></p><p>Several goblins spontaneously acquire ‘We could have done that?’ looks, but these are immediately squelched by the reactions of some of the more irate party members.</p><p></p><p>Quid steps to the fore, relishing her role as irritant. “So Mr. Pretty Boy, what is this help you promised? Are you going to expose more of your chest to scare away the priests?”</p><p></p><p>Solom scowls. “Your voice makes me almost favor the cult. Almost, but not completely. This entire area was protected by a powerful forbiddance cast by Dorina T’sarran herself. She is the daughter of Irae T’sarran, and a mighty priest in her own right, and your puny magics would have had no chance to counter her spell, leaving your pitiful band divided and weaker than it already is. I have eliminated it, allowing even worthless goblins to traverse holy ground.</p><p></p><p>“In addition, I shall also provide a small measure of information. The ladder in front of you is one of eight identical ones, placed at equal intervals around this level. All ascend to the Fane of Lolth. I would advise you not to explore that region until after eliminating all opposition below.</p><p></p><p>“There is only one entrance into the central region of this level, through a makeshift temple to Kiaransalee reached through a double door to the north. I advise you to avoid that portal, instead passing through the now-empty guard post nearby. This will allow you to destroy the coffins of at least some of your vampiric foes before facing them, giving you an advantage in the battle. There is a passage through the guard post to the rear of the temple. I give no guarantees as to which approach is preferable.”</p><p></p><p>Solom nods his head slightly. “I have given my promised aid. Now you must hold up your end of the bargain.”</p><p></p><p>Unwilling to let him leave so quickly, Quid says, “How do we know you did anything? There might never have been a forbiddance.”</p><p></p><p>Solom smirks. “You will have to trust me.” Before anyone else can speak, the archmage is gone, without word or gesture.</p><p></p><p>Pleased to be free of him, Trella tries to push the slaves to go deeper into the level. They will have none of it, though, and huddle in the corner of the entrance. The druid sighs heavily and moves into the next room, ignoring the spiderweb ladders that lead into the fane as she passes into a room bare save for two pairs of manacles on the wall.</p><p></p><p>Khail enters a moment later. “Occupied?”</p><p></p><p>Trella shakes her head negatively. “One was, but neither has been for a while. See these marks? It looks like someone struggled for quite a long time to get out of these.”</p><p></p><p>Rhien enters, eyes narrowed to points. Deliberately avoiding the manacles, he moves into the chamber to the south. Here eight coffins lie in state on the floor. Behind them is a row of counters and cupboards that have obviously been well ransacked. Some of their doors hang open; others have been broken off. There are cuts in the countertops, and most of the shelves have been pulled out.</p><p></p><p>Rhien aims to visit a similar level of destruction upon the coffins, smashing them repeatedly with his enchanted gloves. Khail and Trella join him soon after, and eventually Andy and Danek get into the act as well. The violence is oddly therapeutic.</p><p></p><p>Calla, who had silently gone off to scout, returns as the last of the coffins is no more than tattered shards of wood. “I would caution you to be quiet, but it looks like we’ve been expected,” she says. “Most of this level—outside of the doors leading to the temple—is deserted, but I could hear the faintest sounds of movement through the doors themselves. Sounded like a half-dozen or more clumsy feet, and an equal or greater number of quieter folks. They clearly are waiting for us.” Her eyes gleam eagerly in the torchlight.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="htetickrt, post: 1659626, member: 16534"] Here's the last episode of active discourse before the bloodshed begins. I've posted a couple of enemies' stats in the previous two posts as a teaser. [CENTER]Deal with a Drow[/CENTER] Kai pauses a moment before answering, "We're listening," without raising her voice. Solom smiles, revealing brilliantly white, perfectly straight teeth. "Excellent. What I offer is a simple deal. You, no doubt, desire an end to the raids on the surface. I can supply this. I desire an end to endless uninspired theocratic rule. With my aid, you can supply this. When the priests in power are no more, and I rule Szith Morcane, I will make sure that no drow trouble your surface realms. "So, do we have a deal?" Quid snaps back, “Not so fast Mr. Pretty Boy. I have a few questions. Also, perhaps as a show of good will, you release the web that surrounds us?” Solom narrows his eyes, but remains calm after Quid's decidedly undiplomatic display. "If I release the webbing, the slaves you have stolen will make a mess of my foyer. Regardless, I see little reason to return stolen property to you. You have already destroyed enough of my city as it is." “Why should we trust that you would honor your terms?” the Waukeenar snaps back. "My part of the bargain will be accomplished before you take any further risk yourselves. The only party who will need to trust the other is I. You are trustworthy, are you not?" "What exactly would be required of us?” Solom chuckles mirthlessly. "I am ever wondering why anyone would covet the surface realms, when the horrid sun is so apt to fry the brain. You are to kill every priest left in Szith Morcane, whether she follows the Spider Queen or the Pale Lady. Is that simple enough, or are visual aids required?" Quid retorts, “There doesn't seem to be much of Szith Morcane left to rule over, so why bother?” Solom’s voice dips into a dangerous growl. "My motives are not your concern. They are as beyond your comprehension as your puerile meanderings are indecipherable to the rats that gnaw your boots in the night." Quid is undeterred. “Of course stable governments are always best for markets to flourish, but…" Solom cuts her off. "Do you find your own voice amusing, Waukeenar? For I do not." After Quid's heated exchange, Trella takes the floor, placing a calming hand on the priest’s shoulder. "Hi, uh, Mr. Ned-razak, is it? Anyway, name's Trella, not that you care, but we have a prior agreement with members of House Morcane and have pledged to help them rid their ancestral home of the followers of the White Banshee who invaded it. Of course you know that. But, see, we are honorable people and cannot enter into an agreement that would violate our preexisting promise; you may use magic to scry my intentions if you doubt my words. I just want to clarify our position because you asked whether or not we are trustworthy, and the answer is yes; even if it means having to fight to our certain deaths, we keep our promises and won't betray members of House Morcane. Me personally, I have no problem ridding you of what seems to be a sizable headache, but we need to be clear on the limits." Andy, standing nearby, can barely keep her teeth from chattering. Solom sneers. "House Morcane is dead. Their foolish priests were slaughtered like cattle when Lolth went silent and the rest fled like the cowards they are. I am not of that House, nor am I a T'sarran or allied with their cult of the White Banshee. You need not fear breaking any prior oath through dealings with me." Kai returns to an earlier assertion. "You claim you can put an end to the raids immediately. What proof of this will we have?" Solom's mouth twists into a smirk. "You won't see any more raids." Kai boldly ventures, "True—not from down here, where we'll be fighting clerics, we won't." "Expecting to take a week fighting priests, do you? Perhaps I should offer this deal to the slaves." Kai purses her lips. "Not good enough. Suppose you tell us who is carrying out the raids and what power you have over them." "The raids were ordered by the T'sarrans. When they are dead, they cannot order additional raids. I have no interest in your sun-scorched excuse for a civilization, so I will not be continuing the practice." Kai considers this. "And you will hold this outpost against other chaos-loving servants of the Banshee, should they come in the future? We have heard that they are gaining power elsewhere in the Underdark." The archmage shrugs. "Either I will or I will be dead. In either case your outcome is optimal." The sorceress turns to her companions with raised eyebrows. "What do you guys think? I'm tempted, but remember I wanted to leave the mages alone in the first place." Quid concentrates, calling upon her faith to discern Solom’s motives. She quickly determines with it that the archmage is not actually there, however; an image is holding court with the party. Frustrated, she announces to the projection, "I would be more than happy to deal with you Mr. Pretty Boy, but I am still not clear what we get out of this deal. You want us to kill the priests we find so that they will stop raiding, and all we get is your sovereignty over the entire outpost. It does not seem like a balanced trade, does it?" "Not if you conveniently leave out pieces of it, Waukeenar. I help you kill the priests, as I said. You would not succeed on your own. Further, since you were clearly planning on attempting to extirpate every drow with whom you came into contact, all I require is that you leave my tower, and any remaining slaves and commoners, alone. Frankly, you should do this without my aid, as you face certain death at my hands should you choose to test your pitiful might against mine." Quid groans. "That's the part I was wondering about. Duh. What kind of help?" Solom reverts to his earlier sneer. "You'll find out when you need to, Waukeenar. Suffice it to say, it will be with something you could not possibly accomplish yourself." Quid presses on, "Also, hasn’t it been your boys on all these hunter-killer groups we've been dealing with? Like that chubby fellow that helped kill my friend? Why the sudden change of heart?" "My boys? The T'sarran control their 'teams' and determine their makeup. I aid them minimally to stave off annoying interference in my work. I would prefer to keep my students here, in training as they should be. My heart has not changed." "Finally, I believe Trella's concern was that you asked us to kill all priests we find, but we would be obliged not to kill members of Morcane that we may or may not come across." "And I replied that House Morcane is dead. Really, you should learn to pay greater attention when your betters speak. There are no living members of it in this outpost; hence, there will be no conflict of interest for you.” Solom’s image smoothes its shirt. "I grow tired of this back and forth. Make your inevitable decision so that I may return to my work in peace." Trella replies, both to Solom and to Kai’s earlier question, "Our foremost goal in this excursion was to stop the raids. If agreeing to help ghost boy here will further that agenda, then I say we do it. Can't wait to see what he provides us by way of help." Andy reluctantly nods and whispers, "Do whatever will keep him from getting upset with us." Calla barely restrains a murderous desire to separate the archmage’s guards from their heads. She says in a strained whisper, "I, for one, don't trust him," and then retreats into shadow. Kai adds, "We can ask him to spell out what he'll do for us. Heck, we could even ask him to give us back his slaves. I don't really mind either way, so the final word is up to you guys." Danek frowns, knowing diplomacy isn't her strong suit. Kyree adjusts his stance in frustration, but says nothing. Rhien gazes darkly at the mass of goblins. "I didn't like training them, but now that we have I don't believe it's right to hand them back to the drow." Quid shrugs. “‘Mergers 5:1: The enemy of my enemy is a sucker.’ We might as well use what resources are available. Then perhaps we leave our goblin horde here to watch over the tower while we seek the other drow. I will not condone the institution of slavery.” More thoughtfully, she concludes, “I agree with Calla though. Be very aware of treachery….” Trella nods. “We’ll put it to a vote, but I want the slaves freed as a term of the deal.” She, Andy, Kai, Quid, Lenara, and Rhien come out for some variant of the bargain. Calla is strongly opposed, maintaining her position in the darkness. Kyree stares at the goblin horde with narrowed eyes, wanting entirely too much to shoot them all. Cerridwin stands still, her very existence freaking out several other party members. Danek stays out of the discussion. Khail debates morality with his steed, and gets nowhere. Dobi remains deceased. Buttercup’s head hurts. Trella proclaims, "Sorry, Calla, looks like we're making this deal." The slaves mutter restlessly while they are the topic of discussion. They relax a bit when Trella makes it clear that she wants them freed as part of the deal. Solom responds calmly, "The slaves are not your property; they belong to the city, which is to be mine. If you desire them freed, you must provide adequate recompense. I consider this separate from the deal at hand. However, if you cannot perform the same mental trick, I will accept fifty gold per goblin head, 100 per bugbear, two thousand for each giant, and three thousand for their leader. These prices are non-negotiable, but you may purchase fewer than the full quantity of slaves." Kai gives a thin smile. "As you point out, the city is not yours yet. These creatures are currently the property of the T'sarrans. As you decline to elaborate on how you will help us, surely you understand our desire to use every asset at our disposal to defeat our mutual enemy. You may take possession of the city after we have succeeded." Solom's answering smile matches Kai's. "I applaud your attempt, but it is insufficient. As the archmage of Szith Morcane, I have the right to utilize the city's slaves in any way I desire. They are useful in their fashion, and if I were to lose them I would require compensation. If you indemnify me for their potential—or should I say, nearly guaranteed—demise at the hands of the priests, then that would be sufficient as well." Before anyone can respond, Thulk makes his displeasure known. "You promise to train us, not kill us or bring us back to drow! We leave now!" Solom chuckles. "And where will you go, little slave? These people have upset the delicate balance you once kept, and most of those still loyal to you are trapped here until I desire their release." The archmage taps his index finger against his lips thoughtfully. "No, I think you shall stay here. With such wanton destruction through most of this city, I shall need guards of the more mundane sort to keep the riffraff out until I can repopulate the outpost. You will do nicely, or provide food for those who will do better." Solom turns back to the party. "Or, your payment will allow me to acquire a more competent staff. Your choice, but make it quickly. My patience grows thin." Quid retorts, "Though I am morally against the trucking and bartering of intelligent life, I acknowledge the legitimacy of your system of property rights. However, given the recent collapse of order in Szith Morcane (under your watch), I see no reason to abide by them. So I think we should take them with us. It is not in your interest to try to stop us." Solom scowls. "Pray tell, how does your miniscule intellect lead you to that conclusion?" Before she can respond, the drow crosses his arms in front of him. "This discussion is leading us nowhere. MY slaves will be staying with me unless you decide to buy them. You may have my aid in disposing of the remaining T'sarran priests, IF you agree to my terms. Otherwise you would be well advised to fly from here, as my patience with your prattling is nearly exhausted." Rhien's brown eyes are hard as he glares at the archmage of Szith Morcane. "This is not right," he whispers. "Against my better judgment we trained them to fight. We cannot simply abandon them to this fiend." Calla emerges from the shadows snarling, her face a feral mask of hatred. "He's no worse than the rest. The drow should be extinguished, every one of them." Danek mutters, "If we want to fight this guy, I don't mind. But why do it over a bunch of goblins? They probably won't be that much help." She leaves unsaid that she doesn't think she herself is that helpful in most battles. Trella massages her temples as the argument's back and forth takes its toll. To the increasingly annoyed mage, she says, "Okay, let me offer a compromise." To Thulk, she says, "He is correct, even with your training, you are likely to be killed as we lay siege to the priests. You may not believe me, but this place may be safer for you in the short term. I have not lied to you and am not doing so now, so please trust me." Before he and the other slaves can go crazy, she turns back to the archmage, "We will pay you as much as we can afford now, and return with whatever more is necessary as full compensation for the slaves. Consider the money a down payment on the whole group as well as a gesture to show our good faith in honoring both our bargains with you. In return for our gesture, I ask that the slaves be treated well, provided food, shelter, and safety. As some of them are our property, and the rest will be our property in a short time, we will expect that our interests will be served to the best of your formidable abilities in our absence. This should satisfy you, seeing as you will end up with sufficient funds to purchase slaves more to your liking." Smoothing out her robes, she exudes serene calm. "Do we have a deal, or should we resort to messy, and needless, fighting? Clearly you can see the lengths we are willing to go to in order to honor a promise?" The mage inclines his head. "Very well. My nonnegotiable price for all the slaves is 9,500 gold. I will accept half that now, with the other half due upon completion of the rest of the bargain. In the meantime, I will keep them safe." Calla interjects her thoughts, hissing, "Are you all mad?! We're paying thousands of gold to free goblins and bugbears from this fop and worse, trusting in his honor to keep a bargain? Drow have no honor. Do we need his help this badly? Perhaps I have misjudged you all." The halfling skulks off. Thulk looks distressed as he figures out what's going on. He whispers conspiratorially, "Little one right. You should no trust drow. You leave us here, we die. Pay for us to be free, or sneak back fast and kill mage. Only way to be safe." Quid says, “I agree with Calla. I am hesitant to leave them here, to place so much trust in this drow, and to expend so much capital on his distasteful enterprise.” Turning to face the archmage, she adds, “I dislike the arrogance in your tone, Mr. Pretty Boy. However, if the group does insist that he should be paid, I offer that we pay half now and take the goblins and bugbears with us. I will pledge to the fair lady herself that we will return with the other half. Of course Thulk, the money would come out of your share.” She says the latter under her breath. Solom is displeased at Quid's tone, but says through clenched teeth. "Fine, take the simpering slaves if it means I don't have to listen to your prattle any more. The money is due upon your return, whether or not they die in your assault. It is your responsibility to free them from the webs." Khail, looking unhappy about the whole exchange, shrugs at this. "No problem." The paladin pushes past the rest of the part, waves his blade…and the webs vanish as if they never were. The freed goblins nearly crush him in their haste to leave the mage's demesne. Quid queries Thulk about additional slaves, her eyes gleaming at the promise of a glorious slave rebellion. His response is less than encouraging, though, and she abandons such grandiose notions as she pays for the slaves’ freedom. Solom grins wickedly as he watches the goblins shove each other to escape the tower. “Meet me at the entrance to the home of House Morcane. There I will provide my promised aid.” The image vanishes after he finishes his orders. Trella herds the slaves out and down, bringing them to perhaps the most dangerous level of the outpost: the lair of Dorina T’sarran. Solom is already there, standing near the front of the room and idly tapping a wand into his palm. “I was wondering when you would arrive,” he says, rather predictably. “I was beginning to fear you were sent hurtling to your deaths in the waters far below by your precious slaves.” Several goblins spontaneously acquire ‘We could have done that?’ looks, but these are immediately squelched by the reactions of some of the more irate party members. Quid steps to the fore, relishing her role as irritant. “So Mr. Pretty Boy, what is this help you promised? Are you going to expose more of your chest to scare away the priests?” Solom scowls. “Your voice makes me almost favor the cult. Almost, but not completely. This entire area was protected by a powerful forbiddance cast by Dorina T’sarran herself. She is the daughter of Irae T’sarran, and a mighty priest in her own right, and your puny magics would have had no chance to counter her spell, leaving your pitiful band divided and weaker than it already is. I have eliminated it, allowing even worthless goblins to traverse holy ground. “In addition, I shall also provide a small measure of information. The ladder in front of you is one of eight identical ones, placed at equal intervals around this level. All ascend to the Fane of Lolth. I would advise you not to explore that region until after eliminating all opposition below. “There is only one entrance into the central region of this level, through a makeshift temple to Kiaransalee reached through a double door to the north. I advise you to avoid that portal, instead passing through the now-empty guard post nearby. This will allow you to destroy the coffins of at least some of your vampiric foes before facing them, giving you an advantage in the battle. There is a passage through the guard post to the rear of the temple. I give no guarantees as to which approach is preferable.” Solom nods his head slightly. “I have given my promised aid. Now you must hold up your end of the bargain.” Unwilling to let him leave so quickly, Quid says, “How do we know you did anything? There might never have been a forbiddance.” Solom smirks. “You will have to trust me.” Before anyone else can speak, the archmage is gone, without word or gesture. Pleased to be free of him, Trella tries to push the slaves to go deeper into the level. They will have none of it, though, and huddle in the corner of the entrance. The druid sighs heavily and moves into the next room, ignoring the spiderweb ladders that lead into the fane as she passes into a room bare save for two pairs of manacles on the wall. Khail enters a moment later. “Occupied?” Trella shakes her head negatively. “One was, but neither has been for a while. See these marks? It looks like someone struggled for quite a long time to get out of these.” Rhien enters, eyes narrowed to points. Deliberately avoiding the manacles, he moves into the chamber to the south. Here eight coffins lie in state on the floor. Behind them is a row of counters and cupboards that have obviously been well ransacked. Some of their doors hang open; others have been broken off. There are cuts in the countertops, and most of the shelves have been pulled out. Rhien aims to visit a similar level of destruction upon the coffins, smashing them repeatedly with his enchanted gloves. Khail and Trella join him soon after, and eventually Andy and Danek get into the act as well. The violence is oddly therapeutic. Calla, who had silently gone off to scout, returns as the last of the coffins is no more than tattered shards of wood. “I would caution you to be quiet, but it looks like we’ve been expected,” she says. “Most of this level—outside of the doors leading to the temple—is deserted, but I could hear the faintest sounds of movement through the doors themselves. Sounded like a half-dozen or more clumsy feet, and an equal or greater number of quieter folks. They clearly are waiting for us.” Her eyes gleam eagerly in the torchlight. [/QUOTE]
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