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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Wraithdrit" data-source="post: 1131668" data-attributes="member: 10820">UnderdarkMarpenoth 5th, 1372, Late EveningThe group settled into the small hidden smuggler’s cove that they had originally fought the Lolth worshipping drow. From there they knew they could launch attacks on the outpost. Hopefully the illusionary walls that had hid the Lolth worshippers from the followers of Kiaransalee would also hide them. Besides, they only needed about 10 hours and they would be in the outpost, laying waste to whatever they could find.Will appeared through the third illusionary wall, carrying a torch. He walked over and set the torch into a small holder they had set up against one wall. He turned to the others, smiling. Mytrym looked up from wiping a cloth along the blade of his sword. Naria looked up from where she was sitting behind him. She had a large cloth spread on the ground and had various strange alchemical devices bubbling, boiling, and steaming. Delorian was sitting cross-legged against one wall. His eyes opened, his meditation interrupted by the wizard’s inevitable news. Amador sat on a large crate, his quiver in his lap. He was checking an arrow to make sure the shaft was straight an undamaged. He lowered the arrow and looked to Will. Plickit was crouched to another side of the natural cavern. His companion was curled beneath the ranger, enjoying the petting of two of the thri-kreen’s four arms. Plickit looked up and cocked his head to one side.Marcus was stretched out; feet crossed and propped up on his small pack. His fingers where laced together across his chest and his head was propped on his rolled up cloak. He turned his head just a little to be able to hear what Will had to say.The mage paused to make sure he had everyone’s attention. “It took two castings, but I think you will like what I saw.” He dropped down and grabbed out a few rolls of parchment from his pack. Grabbing out a charcoal stick he began scribbling maps. Small circles started marked the locations of sentries. Filled in circles marked the location of more of the undead drow. ‘S’s marked the spot where spellguards were located. ‘X’s marked the single officer he could detect. As he drew, he explained each location.Mytrym leaned forward, regarding the maps. “So we have two sentries between here and the ledge and four sentries, a skinned one, and an officer on the ledge. Sounds do able. Especially with the plan…”Will nodded, “I have a few simple modifications to the plan so we make sure that no one below is alerted by the top sentries…” Will explained the plan, nodding to each participant. Discussion followed, and finally the plan was finished. “Now lets get some rest, we’ve got a hell of a fight ahead of us and I don’t want to lose anyone in there.”An hour later, Delorian quietly pulled a shadow over his ‘sleeping’ form. He reappeared two rooms away, slipping from the shadows. He reached down to unclasp the bracer at his wrist. He ran his fingers over the tattoo revealed there. It had been a few days since he had heard from his lord. The last time he had seen him, he had been arguing with High Prince’s right hand man, the Chamberlain Hadrhune. He hoped and prayed that Clariburnus was well. The High Prince’s wrath was legendary. Delorian did not even want to consider the ramifications if Clariburnus were gone. So far his messages had seemed to be going through, but he had yet to get any word back. He pressed hard on the tattoo, and the magic within it flashed to life. The tattoo glowed with a purplish light that reflected off the monk’s features as he began his report. “My prince…”Naria whispered softly to Mytrym. The two were tucked away in a corner. “I don’t like this Mytrym. Our way is to bring them into the light, not slaughter them.” Mytrym nodded, “I know what our mistress bids us do Naria, but these are not just misguided followers. Someone is doing something very bad, or planning to, I can feel it to my bones. I have to do what I can to stop them. If that means I have to cut a swathe through our people to get at its dark heart, then so be it.”Naria chewed on her lower lip. “I know but…” She trailed off and turned away, pulling her cloak over her more fully.When she did not continue Mytrym patted her shoulder gently and whispered, “I know Naria… its not an easy path we follow, I don’t pretend to like what it is I must do. But I must do it, for the sake of all those that are unable to join the light because of what the dark one is doing. Plus, I can not help but feel that if we don’t do this, something even worse will befall our people.” He put his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling.Amador sat quietly, his reverie having overcome his senses long ago. He was reliving the times when he and his best friend had first set up the grove to Corellon. It was that friend that had worn the circlet. The same grove was where he had found his friend dead. It was there that his quest into the Underdark had started. He relived those better moments, when his friend was still alive. All to remind him of what he was fighting for, and why he risked his life in these dark and deadly caverns.Plickit sat crouched in the middle of the room. The maps that Will had drawn were spread out before him. The ranger was memorizing every nook and cranny the maps depicted. He memorized the location of each sentry, of each door that more drow might be able to come from, of each area where he would chose to set up ambushes, knowing that would be where the drow would most likely set one. He knew elves, even these dark skinned ones. He knew their strengths, their weaknesses. He knew how to track them, how to hunt them, and especially how to kill them. He looked forward to putting those skills to use.Will slept quietly in one corner. He had fallen asleep while studying. The book, his book, the book that had been the reason he first started out of Dagger Falls, was open beneath him. He had fallen forward, arms crossed, head down. He slept quietly atop the ancient scripts describing the best uses for the purest of elements- fire. He dreamt of the coming conflict. In his dream he was once again seeing through his arcane eye spell. But this time he watched as his friends fought. He watched as he himself cast spell after spell at the ever-present enemy. In his dreams he knew that the drow he fought were the same ones that had burned his family home. They had made the ultimate mistake in targeting him. They had made it personal. With the power of the book at his fingertips, he would make sure it was a mistake they would not live long enough to regret.Marcus lifted his head and looked around at his new companions. It was an interesting group. He was glad to be out of his cell, but at what cost? He just hoped that these people were as competent as his cousin made them out to be. He had been impressed with Will. He seemed a lot older, and a lot stronger willed, than he had ever seen him. The only thing he worried about was the dark look that crossed his cousin’s features at the talk of killing the drow. Marcus had learned long ago not to make his work personal. When you made it personal you could lose sight of the goal, be that a great heist or something like this. Attacking a drow outpost. What kind of insanity had he really signed up for? Oh well, he reminded himself, it was better than sitting in a cell.</blockquote>

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