The prisoners flinch as Vaddis cleaves Cabbage Head in twain. Everyone is quiet a moment. And then the woman starts to laugh. It's an odd sound. A cackle. A sob. Somewhere between the two. One of the men looks uncomfortable and then looks at each of you.

"I got...taken...jus' recently. They haven't played with me as much as tha others. Rolth is some kinda wizard. He's tall and thin and bald and...he looks like a vulture. No other way ta describe 'im. He seems ta like tha dead. He...makes 'em get up and walk about. But we only see him when we die. Some don't die. The blue things let them go. But the poor sods are like all dead inside. The blue things...they do stuff to us. Make us drink things. Get us hooked up on Venom. It does weird things to your head. I heard one a' 'em say once..,they was lookin' for a cure for their own crazies. I think all tha blue ones are crazy. I dunno." He swallows a little mote from the waterskin and passes it to the next one. "We really don't know much else. But I do know Rolth ain't here. He came by just a little while ago an' told..." He glances at Cabbage Head's corpse. "...that he was goin' ta see some people. Somethin' about teeth is all I really heard. Honest. Will...will ya let us go?"

Selvin hesitated a moment then spoke quietly to his companions a bit away from the prisoners. "I am a little concerned about releasing people with...mental damage to the world freely, but we can't really re-imprison them. So...we let 'em go?"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 04:27, Fri 18 July 2014.

"We will most likely have to take you to the surface ourselves. Or can you find your own way?"

---

---

Tarrov was aghast.  He was no naive debutante, thinking the world was full of nothing but flowers, balls, and moonlit assignations (although he had certainly known those who were).  He had thought he was steeled against the ugly underbelly of Korvosa, against the kind of depravity and exploitation that were the byproducts of any large group of people living together.

Tarrov truly believed that evil existed in the hearts of men, and only civilization kept them from tearing each other apart with their bare hands.

But this.  He looked around at the broken people around him.  This was more depraved, more sickening, and more evil than anything he had previously imagined.  He couldn't understand it.  He could understand most evil, even while he didn't approve.  He knew why someone would abduct little girls to work in brothels.  He knew why people would enslave others.  He knew why people would step on the backs of others to get ahead themselves.

But this?  This seemingly unthinking, uncaring cruelty?  Evil without a clear purpose?  It boggled his mind.

Tarrov turned to Selvin.  "I agree.  We have to let them go.  We don't have the ability to properly care for them, and we have to stop this Rolth and his associates from doing this," he almost spit the words as he waved his arm over their damaged flock of rescuees, "to anyone else."  His eyes glinted.  "Ever again."

He waited for a response to Vaddis' question, to see if they would need to escort these ones out or head on to exact vengeance against the one responsible for this horror.

---

---

The sanest man looks about at his companions. The woman is still cackling but much more softly. Large, oily tears are leaking out of her eyes. The other man twitches. He suddenly hugs his arms across his chest, and looks at the floor. "...if ya don't move, they can' see ya. If ya don' say nothin', they can' hear nothin'..."

The dwarf laughs at them. He puffs up his chest and throws back his head. "We'll be fine. We'll be right as roses. If'n any a' 'em shows their hateful blue skin I'll give 'em whatfer. I'm a man. Ya hear me? I'm. A. Full. Grown. Man. Ya don' think me one? I'll shows ya! I'll wipe tha walls wid 'em! I'll do to 'em what we dwarves did ta them...guys...at...that place...I'LL KILL 'EM ALL! I WILL! I WILL! I-" He stops, gasping for breath. A small wet spot appears and then begins to spread across the front of his threadbare trousers. He slaps a large hairy hand over hs mouth and just stands there, staring straight ahead and pissing himself.

The sanest man walks over and lays a hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Of course you are. You're very brave." He looks at you all. "We'll be fine. I'll look after 'em. If...you have a knife or such...just in case. How do we get out?" He smiles. "Really. If...you can just...make sure they don't do this to anyone else. And thank you. It's good to be free."

"We'll lead you out. Let's go gentlemen, ladies." Vaddi indicates the proper direction, "Let's wrap the arm in a cloth of some kind.For propriety."

Selvin was taken aback at the outburst followed by the pissing. His eyebrows shot up and he leaned away, even though he wasn't next to the dwarf. After Vaddis spoke, he gave a shrug at the small delay of leading the people out. "Fine. Let's get it done."

He bounded away, leading the way towards the exit once more.

The four move surprisingly quietly, huddling in a small group and staying behind Vaddis mostly. You walk back through the hall with the bone cobras and into the secret hall. As you come to the intersection, you hear voices from the south. The room with the stirges. The voices are high pitched but with a sort of odd grating undertone. You can hear what sounds like two people speaking.

"-'s tits up is what I'm saying."

The other voice says something in an odd tongue. Hard vowels and soft consonants and stresses in places you wouldn't expect. The words make no sense.

"No. No point in goin' back. Even if it's over here. We should move into the city."

The four refugees all stop, standing rigid with eyes open. Mr. Sane licks his lips and leans over, whispering. "That's some of 'em. There's fur total. I think...sounds like Kleeg an' maybe Bortow."

You are at D2 on the map. The voices are from the south. The room with the stirges you passed over earlier.

Vaddis nods and then leads on, urging the four to follow quickly to the exit which is now very close by.

---

---

Tarrov's eyes widened as he heard the voices from the south.  "Should we let them head on back to the surface themselves?"  He whispered, careful that his lowered voice didn't carry any further than his companions.  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the sound of conversation.  "Looks like we've got company."

---

---

Vaddis shakes his head no and urges all on toward the exit.

Selvin slowed down and brought up the rear...he didn't want to take the chance that the blue bastards came upon the group unawares...or managed to snag back any of the already-way-broken prisoners.

The prisoners give you no grief. They are more than eager to move away from the sounds of the voices.

You come into the large entry chamber. The prisoners begin to surge towards the exit. The sanest man looks back. "I will see to them now. My family has resources. I will do what I can to aid them. If...you suceed, come and see me. My name is Loro de Ferhan."

The de Farhans are a well known and quite powerful family of merchants.

Loro hesitates on the bottom step. "One more thing I can tell you. Vertreeg. He is Rolth's apprentice I think. He will be the one you need to truly watch out for. You can tell him apart from the others by a scar here," he points to the right corner of his mouth. "Good luck. And whatever gods there are bless you all."

You are back in area D1.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:14, Tue 22 July 2014.

After the prisoners have left, Vaddis turns to go back in, moving as quietly as he can under the circumstances.

Selvin gave a nod to the man offering to help the other prisoners. He knew Vaddis would likely want to check and make sure that happened...but that was for later. Right now? Selvin slinked back down to all shimmering fours and headed back towards where they had heard the voices that had scared the prisoners so much.

---

---

Now that the prisoners were safely away, it was down to business.  It sounded like there were a lot of unpleasant characters in this catacombs, and that none of them would be coming along easily . . . or even coming along at all.  Combat was the catchphrase, and Tarrov's mouth twisted at the thought.

He had never thought of himself as much of a fighter.  Apprenticed to one of the greatest performers in Korvosa, and achieving some success in his own right, he would never have believed that he would be searching for evildoers to kill in a mysterious crypt with hard men who were little more than acquaintances at this point.

The bard sighed to himself.  Life just happened sometimes.  And he couldn't complain; he himself had chosen this path when he decided to exact vengeance upon Gaedren Lamm.  Every step after that had been his choice, and his alone.  There was no one else upon which he could blame his current circumstances.

Tarrov crouched and tried to be as quiet as he could as he followed Selvin back towards where they had heard the voices.  At least this was the kind of thing about which he could compose an epic song.

If he survived.

---

---

Selvin, Tarrov, and Vaddis,  you head down the hall and come close to the back of the hidden door the voices are coming from. The voices still seem to be going along in the same vein. One speaking that weird tongue. The other one is still speaking on common, "Look. We both agree. Rolth's crazy. Vartreeg is stupid. This boat's gotta hole in it. Let's get out now before we get wet."

"Kwiska ka'heta ma'shalamu," says Mister-Too-Good-for-the-Common-Tongue.

"I have not gone topsider!"

"Hthau so molij nu."

"I just don't speak the tongue because we sound like morons. Have you not noticed that?"

"B'haliwoggle..."

"Whatever. What're we gonna do about this guy?" Suddenly Mr. Common shrieks. "HEY! YOU UP YET???!!" There's a silence. "Damnit. You used too much Moon Blood on the dart. He's still out. Now we gotta wait for him ta wake up until we slit his throat."

"Iffidk ni solu lakehm. Ma'yesho usanduwah holli oposu."

"You have to wait until they wake up. If ya kill 'em while they're asleep, their souls get stuck in your hair."

"Kahten lakehm...o palu mhe sorot a'zulu."

There's a pause. "Wait. Ya mean I'm bald?"

Sounds like they're planning on killing someone whose unconcious...

---

When the one blue man yells at you, you almost flinch Izzick . But you clamp your jaw shut and remain still until they start talking again. Damn. It sounds like the one you don't understand has almost talked his partner into just slitting your throat. You test the ropes. Not quite there yet. You go back to sawing. If they just keep at it a little bit longer...

If only something would happen to serve as a distraction.

Izzick, you heard the whole exchange above. Vaddis, Tarrov, Selvin..?

Vaddis throws open the door and steps in, sword at the ready!

07:27, Today: Vaddis Sonaden rolled 1 using 1d20. Initiative.
07:26, Today: Vaddis Sonaden rolled 12 using 1d20. Perception.

Selvin bounds in towards the nearest enemy once the door is open...if they see any enemies immediately. He will charge if he can, but move up to them if not. He will wait until he pounces to let out a hopefully-terrifying growl!

08:32, Today: Selvin Larst rolled 13 using 1d20+2. Initiative if needed.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:32, Fri 25 July 2014.

---

---

Tarrov's eyes widened as he listened to the two unidentified men talk about their captive.  It sounded like the poor sap that the conversationalists had tied up was not long for this world.

It was time for some thrilling heroics.

Tarrov followed Vaddis in the door, waving an arm through the air.  "Olisthi̱rós!"  He called, coating the floor beneath their opponents in a slick substance that would make their next movements a . . . challenge.

OOC:  Tarrov casts "Grease" on the ground under the two men.

---

---

The two little blue men turn as the hidden door breaks open. One manages a "Wha' tha-" before he looseshis footing on the odd little carpet of grease that appears under his feet.

His companion is a little more nimble. He hops up onto a nearby table, avoiding the grease blanket.

In one corner is a half orc, bound. But he suddenly brings his hands from behind his back, pieces of rope faling from his writs.

Izzick, your hands are free. Spend this round taking out your gag or doing whatever else you wish. Remember your ankles are bound as well.

The two derro are at the middle table, one on top of it and one laying at the eastern end in the pudle of grease. Please remember the grease if you atempt to charge the prone derro.

Selvin, Tarrov, and Vaddis: you have come in through the secret door in the north, area D5. Izzick, you are propped against the wall near the eastern end of the northernmost table. The edge of the grease pool is about a foot away from you.

I will let you describe your PCs to each other. Selvin's description in particular should be interesting. Everyone state your actions and I'll resolve in the appropriate order. Thanks.

'Just a little more...just a little more,' was all the half-orc was thinking before he finally felt the bindings on his hand snap against the sharp edge jutting from the wall. Freed from his bindings, the hands quickly went to his mouth. All he needed was to be able to speak and gesture, and he'd quickly be able to get out of this situation. He wasn't even sure why he'd been captured in the first place.

Spending the round getting rid of my gag!
This message was last edited by the player at 04:40, Sat 26 July 2014.

Average height and weight, brown hair and green eyes. He carries a longsword, dagger and Lt. Crossbow with a quarrel at his hip with 30 bolts. Leather lamellar armor with a heavy wooden shield.

He wears the holy symbol of Iomedae.

Vaddis moves to his right, (west) until he is in the opening to the north. "Surrender now or face my spite derro dogs!"

Selvin is not intimidating at first glance, standing around five and half feet in height, with a body that is more nimble than muscled. His black hair hangs down past his shoulders and tends to be in small braids or free-flowing. The hair doesn't often hide his pointed ears marking him as a half-elf. His eyes are black in color as well, and seem both happy but also hold a hint of sadness and wariness in them at the same time. His skin shows a light tan of someone who has worked outdoors quite a bit. He has some visible scars as well but overall he is very good-looking and has a charming smile. He openly wears a holy symbol of Abadar and tends to favor clothing in his colors. He carries a light crossbow on his back, a morningstar at his hip and wears a set of lamellar cuirass for protection.

Much of the time, however, he is surrounded by an otherwordly form. Like a suit of armor, he wears a being from the outerplanes, protecting him and granting him other abilities. The being resembles a tiger somewhat, striped white and black and blue but seemingly burning with a blue flame as well that doesn't burn. The creature is about 4 feet tall at the shoulder, about 7 feet in length not including the tail, and looks to weigh several hundred pounds. The teeth and claws are long and jagged, and the beast appears to be quite fast as well. The eyes appear to be glowing blue in color.

(OOC: There is a picture of what the cat-thing could look like in my description on the cast list.)

Selvin charges forward on all fours towards the evil creature not in the grease if he can and pounces it! If the grease will be too problematic, he will simply move to a better position.

The table Derro cocks an eyebrow at Vaddis, but can spare no time to retort as he has to leap off the table to the eastern side in an efrort to get the table between himself and Selvin.

Tarrov uncoils his whip.

The greased derro mutters, "Ug. I got some in my mouth..."