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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Mathew_Freeman" data-source="post: 4809918" data-attributes="member: 1846">The Anit-Solar LoungeWith the Drow woman safely strapped into a stretcher, the rest of the group hurried over to join Karl at the edge of the room. He had found a narrow staircase that descended out of sight, without lighting.“Any objections to me going first, nope, excellent, follow on then!” called Karl as they approached. The Gnome headed off down the stairs confidently but quietly. Keeping about ten feet further back, the rest followed.Noticing Aengus was absently rubbing a metal ring that he wore, Sigurd asked him if he was feeling alright.“Yes, mostly,” he replied as they continued down the stairs. “This ring – it is enchanted to help me find my father, whom I believe may be down here somewhere. Ever since we arrived I’ve felt as though I am getting closer to him, closer to what he was trying to do. It’s not a precise magic, in that I don’t get an idea of which direction he lies, but it’s more of a feeling. The feeling that I am getting, however, is that I’m on the right track. Fingers crossed, as you humans say.”Ahead, Karl held his hand up for silence. The stairs ended in a doorway, leading to a larger room. Seeing no immediate danger, Karl waved the others in. As they entered, they could see that this room appeared to be some sort of stables, but instead in horses the various pens held large lizards, each with barding and saddles strapped to them. They were chained securely in place, but as the companions entered they stirred a little, perhaps expecting food or water. In the dim light of Sigurd’s magic, the party stayed carefully away from them.Karl suddenly swore. Coming into view at the far end of the room was an armoured figure, slim of build. “Another bloody Drow,” muttered the Gnome under his breath. “Should have spotted him earlier.”Moving forwards, as there was no point in pretending stealth given their light source, the party passed a large window space on their right, opposite the pens. Glancing out, Iben saw that the blackness was absolute – nothing was visible. Clutching his greataxe for comfort, a familiar object in this strange underground world, he kept pace with the others.The Drow warrior wore fine armour, well-maintained. At his hip hung both a rapier and a small crossbow, together with a couple of daggers in obvious sheathes. As the group approached him, he surprisingly turned away and opened the door ahead of them, passing through and beckoning them on. The next room was a small antechamber, bare of furniture, and the warrior unlocked the other door with a small key and passed through.“Be welcome to this place,” he said in the common tongue, his accent thick but understandable. “You are expected. Please make yourselves comfortable whilst I bring the others.” Exchanging wary looks, the rest of the group passed through the door after him.The next room was a large courtyard area, extending around sixty or seventy feet on each side. Several chipped and worn pillars disappeared up into the darkness overhead, the light from the group not enough to penetrate it all the way to the ceiling. Around the edges of the room there were several growths of vegetation – trailing creepers of flowers that extended up the walls and grew out over the floor as if reaching towards the centre. Aengus recognized them as nightshade plants, and Iben added in that they represented the souls of the dead.In the centre of the room stood several finely carved stone chairs and tables in a rough circle, surrounding a depressed area of floor. This depression was not constructed of stone, like the rest of the floor, but instead a latticework of thin metal strips acted as a grid between which some sort of transparent glass-like structure hung in sheets. It was clearly an ornate concave window of some kind, although looking through, nothing more than darkness could be seen.Aengus spoke aloud as the Drow Warrior disappeared through a far door. “I wonder if that is some sort of viewing gallery?” he wondered, moving around the room to examine the various chairs and tables. On several of the tables stood a hookah, fine glasswork and tubing with several thin pipes extending out of it so that those sat could inhale the smoke within. A small light sat at the top, glowing dimly.“I guess we had best take a seat,” said Thunder. “But stay wary, all of you. This may, of course, be yet another trap for us.”“At least this trap comes with seats!” responded Sigurd. “Filthy Drow have at least given us a place to rest for a while.”The group arranged themselves around the room and waited in the dim light.Note: Not what we were expecting! Cordiality and politeness - we were very much on edge waiting to see what would happen next.</blockquote>

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