[Nexus] Underside - The First!

[Darklord Bright]

http://img222.imageshack.us/img222/1193/underside.png

This thread is for all actions and events taking place in Underside, the sprawling network of underground caverns beneath the surface of the Nexus. Underside is a vast, largely unexplored territory of the world, seemingly going on forever in all directions as well as further down into the depths of the world – often lit in a dim glow by the strange plants and fungi which grow in those labyrinthine tunnels. The Underside is often considered a separate world beneath the feet of the Nexus, operating under strange, foreign rules and keeping its business where it belongs.

Main Locations

Undercity
Undercity is constantly expanding out into the tunnels, its hub located at the center of a large, open area in the rock. There, the city’s center is built into a massive stalactite, bridges extending to smaller ones in an expansive, web-like city above, even as buildings gaze up from below. It is lit by glowing blue crystals mined from the rock, used in lieu of lanterns or fire.

This city is ruled not by a single leader, but by a contingent of noble houses, each one involved in feuds and alliances with the others even as new houses spring up periodically throughout the city. The rules in the Undercity are simple – the nobles make the rules (so long as enough of them can agree on anything).

The one golden rule, however, is this: Undercity business is Undercity business.

The Tunnels
There is no one single description for the tunnels. The tunnels are not one location, but are instead a vast network of passageways and openings and nooks and crannies in the rock, some natural, some decidedly not. There are forests of towering, luminescent fungi, forgotten cities, rivers of water and magma, and cultures of all kinds. But the tunnels are not as romantic as they might sound – dark beasts lurk in the depths of the world, and one does not leave the relative safety of the Undercity without protection…

Rules
All forum rules apply, godmodding rules apply.
No destroying the Undercity is probably the biggest thing, and I'd prefer that this not be used as a hideout for topside criminals. In any case, criminals from topside who bring their troubles to the Undercity will likely be dealt with in whatever way the nobles can agree on - and oh…

Welcome to Underside.

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity Gate]
((This is mostly just NPC interactions for the purpose of doing a little introductory work and fleshing things out a bit :smallsmile:))

Captain Marnall, the officer in charge of inspecting the newcomers from topside, lights a cigarette, sitting on a bench beside the ornate archway leading into the Undercity. The newbie was shaking. Wouldn’t be the first.

He inhales, then exhales, a long, smoky sigh.

“Listen, topsider. There are two things you have to remember down here – Firstly, Underside business is Underside business. Don’t bring your troubles down on our heads, and don’t expect the other topsiders to come screaming to your help when you piss off the wrong people. Secondly! Every monster and his grandma wants to take a bite out of you down here! You don’t travel through the tunnels if you’re fond of keeping your parts in the right places! You got that, meat? This isn’t your world anymore, kid, this is Underside. Whatever you had up there? It doesn’t mean anything to us down here. Down here, you earn what you get. Got that? Good.”

The newbie makes his way to the door, taking his first steps into the Undercity. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for the new world before him.

Marnall leans against the archway behind him.

“Oh, kid, I almost forgot.”

The newbie turns to face him, the experience still a little overwhelming.

“Welcome to Underside.”

[VampireRot]

[Undercity - Crystal Stalagmite]

"Grogorg declare it... time to get thread... going."

"What Grogorg speak of? Rogorro... confused."

"Rogorro think less... Understand later. Grogorg... Must now speak with... small fleshlings."


Cough. Anyway... Situated inside a large but hollow stalagmite is one of the noble "houses"* of the Undercity. The inhabitants are rather strange beings to find among the drow, duergar, gnomes, and whatever other silly creatures live in the city. A clan of golem-like beings, made of rock and crystal.

These elementals?/giants?/golems?/trolls? have humanoid forms, but hunch over a bit and reach an average height of about 14 feet, with a stocky and wide body. They are for the most part made of hard rock, but have growths of huge, luminescent, and sharp quartz-like crystals protruding from their knuckles, shoulders, foreheads, and backs. The coloration varies by individual. Facial features are crude and seem etched into their stone heads, their eyes aren't even a different color than the rest of their body.

The leader of these... lets call them crystal giants for the moment, is a huge stone monstrosity named Grogorg. It, or he if you wish, stands nearly 16 feet tall and has huge navy blue crystals adorning his gray stone body. Grogorg is currently slooowly exiting the hollow cavern full of crystals to meet with... people. Anyone on the strange streets of the Undercity. The giants have peculiar ways of thinking.

*If that's okay. :smallconfused:

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels, Near the Undercity]
The ragged, cloaked figure's work was almost done for the day. (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=10162516&postcount=350)
He had trudged for years through these dreary tunnels, but these last few days had been particularly interesting. He had found many signs of a nearby town, a large center of commerce (by underground standards) and a convergence point between the underside and the horrid and bright world above.
For nights he had fallen asleep to the growls and howling calls of the ceiling wolves, but something just wasn't right tonight.
The wolves were quiet.
SHUNK!
A crossbow bolt dipped in some strange, thick poison nearly struck the figure upside the head, but he was far too quick. The tall, lithe stranger flipped back and over to view his assailants, three drow.
A priestess, who's garb registered in his well trained mind as that of a lower level member of Llolth's horrible cult, and two well armed warriors.
The lone figure was no warrior. He ran.
The drow gave chase, bounding over the same rocks their fleeing prey slithered beneath and then...it was gone.
Their infravision showed nothing! It was if all the heat had seeped form their would-be victim and into the stones!
They looked about, still in their tight formation.
Then, the figure reappeared, leaping from the shadows above and hissing furiously. It pulled down it's mask, revealing dark scales, a thin lipped and fanged mouth, and a swollen, forked tongue. The shadows of his face were strengthened by the glow emanating from his mouth.
The tongue deflated as a spray of venom washed over the faces of the drow, who, despite their natural resistances, fell back onto the stones, twitching and thrashing for several seconds until they fell still.
One of the warriors lay with a grin on his face.
As the figure reset his mask, he noticed why. A large, poison tipped bolt stuck sharply out from his hip. He carefully pulled it out, tied the three paralyzed drow together by their ankles, and headed off for the lights in the distance. As the poison slowly worked its way into his body, he came to whatever amounted for a road leading out of the Undercity, and collapsed.

[Earl of Purple]

Undercity

A drider is walking around. The drider has the torso of a young female, and she is wearing a white shirt, contrasting with her black skin. Her white hair is short, and she has red eyes. The spider-part of her anatomy is that of a large, black specimen with white spots dotted around its survice. Around her neck is a silver amulet depicting a two-tailed scorpion. Mounted on her abdomen are a pair of spidersilk net bags, containing a variety of religious paraphernalia displaying lots of invertebrate images; spiders, unusually, are only a minority.

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

Lumbering along the streets of the Undercity, probably drawing more than a few worried glances and stares, is Grogorg. The huge and crystal-adorned stone giant looks around for interesting things, occasionally taking little detours into the tunnels to check on crystal "farms". On one of these, Grogorg finds a certain collapsed yuan-ti. The giant's carved face twists into a slightly concerned, mostly curious expression.

"Ah... Grogorg find fleshling... Is it dead?"

The giant reaches a hand made of living rock down to Davitte. To try to poke him, then pick the man up in the huge hand.

"Ah, No... Poisoned, by the black pointy ears... Hah... Fleshlings..."

If not stopped by anything, Grogorg will carry the fainted yuan-ti back to the hollow and crystal-filled stalagmite the golems call a house.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
Grogorg is not stopped, though the yuan-ti man groans and shifts a little, and refuses to let go of the drow he's captured.
With what the drow due to the people they capture, him using them as some form of bargaining chip is downright merciful.

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

Grogorg would blink in surprise at the drow he totally didn't see earlier, if he had eyelids. The giant only chuckles, however, and picks the drow up in the other hand to carry them all back. To eat them. Probably also to use as a bargaining chip, though I don't know what the golems could want. :smallconfused:

Unless the yuan-ti wakes up before they get back to the crystal stalagmite, he will find the poison inexplicably expelled from his system. Or at least, that's what one of the giants tries to do, with some magic. He'll be in a small cavern, filled with shimmering crystals. The giants don't have beds, though, so he'll have to due with hard rock. If magic had to be used to wake the yuan-ti up, another giant, slimmer and with green crystals, will be standing next to Grogorg.

"Hello... Fleshling. You... Make an enemy of the black skinned ones?... Hah. Daring fleshling... Grogorg approve."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
The yuan-ti man wakes up back in the crystal stalagmite, looks around, and quickly deduces what has happened. He glares at the 'golems' through his goggles and speaks in some strange and ancient sounding language.
"Nescio loqui linguam, lapis bestiam." the snake man hisses.
((It's latin, if you need to know. I usually use latin for ancient magic languages that many of the older species use.))

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

Grogorg gives the green-crystaled giant a confused look, before turning back to the yuan-ti.

"Does the serpent not speak... the language of fleshlings? ... Grogorg does..." :smallconfused:

The giant lifts a huge finger to point at him, and continues on in its rumbling and slow speech.

"What is it called?"

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
The yuan-ti shakes his head and speaks slowly, as if to a child, "Non intelligitis, lapide pecus."
It's obvious now that he doesn't speak this 'fleshling language'. Maybe he knows a different one? Like undercommon or goblin or yuan-ti?

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

Grogorg only speaks the Universal Nexus Language/English/common and its own species' language. So he really can't try anything else, unfortunately. The giant shakes his head slowly, the stone scraping audibly as he does so.

"We cannot... communicate with it... A shame."

He looks at the giant with green crystals.

"Rogorro should... find another fleshling... To help us speak with it..."

"Rogorro... will do this."

The giant with green crystals rumbles and turns around, exiting the small cavern into the much larger crystal "house". And then walks out into the streets after that, asking every passerby in a rumbling and slow tone if, "It can speak as a serpent" Probably not getting an answer until it runs into a PC. :smalltongue:

Meanwhile, Grogorg gestures toward the drow prisoners he brought along with the Yuan-ti. He rumbles on, even if he thinks the yuan-ti doesn't speak the language.

"It has... troubles with the black skins?"

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
The yuan-ti thinks for a moment, then pulls a small marble from a pouch hidden within the rags wrapped around him and hands it to Grogorg. He pulls another one out for himself and holds it in his hand.
"There," the 'fleshling' says, "We should both be able to speak and understand Sylvan now. I am Davitte Serlow."

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

Grogorg takes the marble and holds it carefully between large fingers. The giant gives an approving rumble.

"Ah... Magic. Very nice... I am Grogorg... and this is my house... May I ask, what trouble... you found with the drow? ... Or the drow found with... you?"

Pronouns, words, and speech patterns change with the language, apparently. Grogorg gives the yuan-ti an appraising look. Well, it's kinda hard to tell with eyes made of stone, but that's what he's doing.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
"I was mapping the area around the city for my fellows when they attacked me. They are my prisoners now, and rightfully so, as I bested them in combat," Davitte pulls his mask and hood and goggles down and reveals his well shaped face and glowing mouth and spots along the side of his skull and body. His eyes are reflective, so looking him in the eye may be painful. He looks over at the drow and his eyes narrow, though it's hard to tell since his eyelids are transparent.

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

"Is that... how it works? ... Strange."

Grogorg has no eyebrows to raise, however, so simply rumbles on. His stone eyes seem to suffer no pain from looking at Davitte's reflective ones.

"I cannot imagine... The drow will be... happy with this... Though, they may be... The ways of the drow are... strange to me."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
"The drow have made themselves up to be unhappy about everything. I suppose these three will be no different. I am in your debt for curing me of their poison," Davitte stands up and bows to the stoney giant thing.

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

"Debt? ... I suppose..."

Grogorg seems to think for a moment. The giant has a limited concept of some things, it seems.

"Perhaps if... we need aid in the future... Diplomacy with your kind..."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
Davitte bows again.
"I cannot make a promise for all of my kin, but the Bluestone clan is always ready to aid their allies."
One of the drow warrior begins to stir, and struggles to break free of his leather bindings, cursing at Davitte and Grogorg.

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

Grogorg nods in response to the bow, apparently not wanting to try the maneuver himself. Due to the stone body.

"Very well... My clan will help yours, as well..."

The giant reaches a huge hand over to nudge the drow with a finger.

"Quiet, black skin... You answer to the serpent, now."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
Davitte stifles a chuckle as the draw thrashes about and bites at Grogorg's finger.
"I can paralyze the fool if you want. It'll shut him up."

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

The drow gets a mouth full of stone. Unless he's a werewolf or vampire, he's not going to enjoy it. :smalltongue:

Grogorg actually does chuckle. Apparently, the giant doesn't like drow that much.

"If you wish."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
Davitte turns to the drow and opens his mouth. His forked tongue sticks out, swells up slightly, then sprays a clear, filmy fluid over the drow's face.
Over the next few seconds, the drow slowly calms down untill he falls limp.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

Speaking of werewolves and Drow, Raril had found his way into the undercity. Not long ago he'd discoavered a tunnel leading from one of the passages that ran under the Black Dragon's Den and ran deep within the earth. Feeling adventurous, Raril had followed where it led and was pleased to discover it let out here, in the Undercity.

At present, he was dressed in soft greys and blacks, his somewhat more colorful choice of clothing left behind on the surface. An old, but well maintained piwafwi cloak hung from his shoulders, obscuring his form from view. Also, to those who would recognize such things, the cloak marked him as a drow noble, someone not to be trifled with. That is, if the blades he carried weren't deterrent enough.

[Gullara]

[Undercity-Streets]

Walking down the street (Maybe the same as Raril, maybe not) is a drider. He stands out from other of his kind however. He wears full plate mail, made of some black metal. His entire body is covered, from his head to his tarantula legs. Strapped across his back it a halberd made of ebony and the same black metal. He walks confidently, his back straight. He casts his gaze from side to side, always wary.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
((it seems Rot has deadtimed. PLOTCLONE!))
Davitte is walking through the streets in his full outfit, not a single piece of skin or scale showing, and dragging three drow prisoners along behind him. Occasionally, when they get too riley, he smacks one upside the head or spits at them and they all calm down.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

Raril notices the Drider. It had been a long time since he'd seen one of those. The last one he'd seen had been his... one might call her an ex-wife, though there'd been no formal ceremony. It was a terrible thing that had been done to her. Horrified him, really.

And this one was heavily armed. The drow stops to lean against a building and watches the Drider pass, suspicion clear in his red eyes.

Then there was the guy dragging Drow prisoners around. What was that about? Raril wonders, his expression shifting towards anger. He knew he shouldn't get involved. Not until he knew more, anyways.

[VampireRot]

[Undercity]

((Whoops. >.> Totally missed your post back there. Heh. :smallredface:))

Grogorg seems only amused by the drow's reaction to the fluid. The weakness of fleshlings is once again obvious.

"You may... do with them as you wish... I suppose."

So he shows Davitte how to get out of the cavern, where he winds up on the street. Continuity! >.>

[Gullara]

[Undercity-Streets]

The drider stops at a door across the street from Raril. The door opens slightly and the drider seems to be talking to someone. This only lasts for a few seconds before he turns around with a poach that likely holds coin. He notices the yuan-ti with his prisoners and decides to find out more.

He approaches the yuan-ti and says in a deep voice, "And where are you going with those?" He seems to be looking for a face among the drow.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
Thanks! Davitte thanks the golem and heads on his way...


He gives Raril a dirty look from beneath his goggles. He doesn't trust drow. Especially lone drow nobles.
Then he turns to the drider and hands it a marble so it can understand him.
"I haven't decided yet."

[Gullara]

[Undercity-Streets]

The drider takes the marble curiously. He doesn't ponder it for long. "Mind getting them to look me in the eye?" he asks.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
"Not a problem," Davitte removes his goggles to reveal his hypnotizing, reflective eyes and stare at the drow for a few seconds.
"Look this fine sirrah in the eye, will you?"
The three drow look over and stare intently at the drider. There are three of them, two male warriors and a low ranking priestess.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

When he's glared at, Raril just smiles confidently. He also quietly casts a spell to listen in on what was going on.

[Gullara]

[Undercity-Streets]

None of them are the one he is looking for. He does have to fight the urge to kill the priestess though. He doesn't like them much. As it is he just scowls at her. "Thanks, but none of them are who I'm looking for." he says, obviously disappointed.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
"That's just fine. If I can't find anything to do with them, I can see if drow taste as good as topside elves," Davitte yanks on the cord and pulls his little parade along.

[Gullara]

[Undercity-Streets]

I'm assuming he took the marble back.

The drider continues on his way. In the opposite direction as the Yuan-ti.

[Beans]

[Underside - Candle Cove Entrance]
There's a cave complex not far from the city called Candle Cove.
Why?
Well, you see, the rock formations resemble wax candle drippings---and some of them even glow faintly.

Some teenagers are outside the entrance to the Cove, smoking and complaining about their parents.

Their self-image of "yeah, we're cool" is somewhat damaged by their immediate jumping and looking around when they hear an echoing series of vocal clicks.
Shrieker.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

Decisions, decisions. Follow the Drider or the fellow with the captive Drow? After a moment's thought, he follows the man with the captives. Raril pulls his hood up and slips through the crowd, shadowing them.

[Gullara]

[Undercity-Streets]

Well then, the drider continues on his way down the street.

[Beans]

[Underside - Streets]
The dumbass kids why in my day youngsters had some respect unwise youths return hastily to the city, scratched and bruised but mostly okay. Lucky for them Shrieker was in a good mood, anticipating the next delivery of a tasty drow.

[horngeek]

Luckily for Shrieker, the delivery is coming right now! A drider enters, a frantically struggling, female drow-shaped, webbed up form over her shoulder.

Merra smiles. "Here's some food for you, Shrieker. Usual deal."

[Beans]

[Candle Cove]
The half-mad Execuloth (http://public5.tektek.org/img/av/1101/d14/2106/0efa982.png) scuttles out of a side tunnel. Her secondary arms bring out a pouch of gold (or whatever) as she reaches for the tasty drow.
Praises be to the gods! I thought I would have to eat another ‡ꜗᴕҨӂ teenager. The horrible garglemesh of symbols is pronounced in a roil of clicks and snapping teeth. It's not a very polite word, but polite words of that language are just as horrible to listen to.
Happy hunting.
She tosses over the payment, tail twitching.

[horngeek]

Merra smirks. "Pleased to do business with you."

The drow continues to struggle desperately under the webbing, as Merra hands her over.

Merra heads out of the cove, whistling!

And heads back towards her den.

[Beans]

[Candle Cove]
Hold still, hold still, you---and she lapses into untranslatable noises again, trying to inject the drow with her venom. Muscle relaxation and hallucinations ahoy!

[horngeek]

The drow relaxes, having happy hallucinations!

[Beans]

[Candle Cove - Shrieker's Lair]
She drags the balls-trippin' victim through her front chamber (stolen ragged couches and chairs!) and into her nightmare of a kitchen. The chamber's floor, walls, and ceiling are covered in linoleum she yoinked off several different sources.
She tears open the webbing.
Hello, next few weeks of meals.

[horngeek]

The drow doesn't react much, in a trippy dream.

Now, depending on whether Shrieker cares, Merra may have taken the drow's clothing. If she does, she's still got undies on.

[Recaiden]

[Tunnel]

A single steady light, barely visible in other circumstances but easily apparent in the tunnel, bobs along in the hand of a scurrying humanoid slave. A sort of goblin, perhaps, as while the True People are above the need for light, their servants are less perfect.
A second goblin scurries along beside it, and striding imperiously along behind the two is a dark elven woman. She looks perhaps a bit less than supremely confident. Even for them, these tunnels are dangerous, at times.

[horngeek]

[Tunnel]

Especially given what's on the cieling half-way along.

Namely, Merra. "Oh, hello there..."

She smirks at the woman. "What brings you into my domain?"

[Beans]

[Candle Cove - Shrieker's Lair]
Shrieker actually prefers them clothed. She steals those.
She de-webs the drow and will begin to undress her and examine all clothing to see if it'll fit, if it'll have to be hemmed in, or if she'll just have to relegate it to her bin of scrap fabric for patches.
She chitters to herself, examining the drow with a scavenger's eye.
((The sexiest things she's likely to think about her victims is whether they're fit to inject eggs into. And she hasn't had any eggs fertilized and ready to deposit in a long time.))

[horngeek]

In that case, it costs extra, but Merra leaves them fully clothed. :smalltongue:

This one's clothing is in... relatively good condition, actually. Could be used.

Not sure of Shrieker's size, but this one's a small drow. Petite is the word, I believe.

[Recaiden]

[Tunnel]

The drow steps back, startled, and then sneers at the drider. "Your domain? This, as all these tunnels, belongs to us, and we walk it as we will."

For the moment, the goblins fear their mistress more than this new threat, and hold their places.

[Beans]

In that case, it costs extra, but Merra leaves them fully clothed. :smalltongue:

This one's clothing is in... relatively good condition, actually. Could be used.

Not sure of Shrieker's size, but this one's a small drow. Petite is the word, I believe.
[Candle Cove - Shrieker's Lair]
She's skinny and will be able to find a use for it.
Oy. Still conscious?
She sets the drow up in a chair built into the wall. It's linoleum'd too.

[horngeek]

Merra laughs, walking towards the drow. "Oh, really? How... interesting."

She'll continue walking until she's almost directly above the woman.

----

The drow looks at her blearily. "...huh?"

The answer seems to be 'barely, but coming around'.

Does Shrieker restrain her in any way?

[Recaiden]

[Tunnels relatively near Candle Cove]

"Begone from here, accursed, and do not trouble our journey further. You may be thankful that I do not punish this transgression."
Her whip cracks above the two goblins and they all start walking forward. No drider, she thinks, would dare disobey.

[horngeek]

[Tunnels]

Merra tries to drop on top of her, grab the whip off her, and begin wrapping her up in silk!

She does this very fast, and will restrict her arms first, then her mouth.

[Beans]

The drow looks at her blearily. "...huh?"

The answer seems to be 'barely, but coming around'.

Does Shrieker restrain her in any way?
[Candle Cove - Shrieker's Lair]
She straps her into the chair.
Sit up if you can. Ignore your nakedness---I'm accepting your involuntary donation of clothes and I assure you they'll get some good use in my care.
Now, anything you want to say before I put you back to sleep?

[Recaiden]

[Drider Tunnels]

Her whip is sent flying, and she's knocked to the ground, though she manages not to be completely caught by the drider yet. The slaves, weakly loyal at best, panic and run back down the tunnel.

[horngeek]

The drow wakes up with a start, before starting to struggle. "Please, please, let me go, I won't-"

...Shrieker may want to shut her up here.

----

[Tunnels]

Merra tries to pin her to the floor with her legs, before wrapping up as planned!

[Beans]

The drow wakes up with a start, before starting to struggle. "Please, please, let me go, I won't-"

...Shrieker may want to shut her up here.
DAMMIT, YOU'RE SO UNORIGINAL.
Stop BORING ME!
And she tries to kick her right in the temple with her nasty hard hoof.

[horngeek]

[Candle Cove]

TWACK.

...the drow is either unconsious or dead, depending on how hard the kick was. Beans gets to godmod which.

[Recaiden]

[Drider Tunnels]

Despite her words and then yells, that will be easily accomplished.

[horngeek]

[Drider tunnels]

Once her mouth is wrapped, Merra will then proceed to completely coccoon the drow, then hoist her onto her shoulder... then head back to her lair, whistling.

[Beans]

[Candle Cove]

TWACK.

...the drow is either unconsious or dead, depending on how hard the kick was. Beans gets to godmod which.
[Candle Cove - Lair]
It really doesn't matter which, as Shrieker will then haul the drow to a stone table and behead her. Then she pops a showercap on the neck stump and gives the body a thorough scrub-a-dub (sometimes she gives them a bath while they're still alive to add variety to her life). And then she starts sorting all the good bits from the okay bits and the not so good bits and the bad bits. The bad bits she pours down a sinkhole, the not-so-good bits she makes into hardtack, the okay bits she pounds and dries into jerky, and the good bits she has culinary fun with.

She makes the skin into leather, the bones into legs for chairs and tables, the teeth and finger bones into necklaces, the hair into cushion stuffing, and throws the eyes at annoying couples. :smalltongue:

She uses every part of the drow except the haughty!

[horngeek]

And so the escapee from the decadent drow culture perishes, killed because of an irrational hatred for all drow and a lack of caring whether she actually fitted into that mold.

As said. Requiescat in Pace.

[Recaiden]

[Drider Tunnels]

The poor, innocent drow is cocooned and, helpless, dragged away.
((Deadtime for now. Snowballs are being thrown at my window.))

[horngeek]

{{Heh. No snow here! :smalltongue:}}

She'll be dragged to the lair, and injected with a knock-out drug.

[Morty]

[Caves Under the Mountains near Glass Citadel]
((Note to self: need a shorter name.))

The caves that have been silent for years, save for an occasional underground animal seeking shelter and food, become alive once more. About a dozen goblin scouting parties descend into the tunnel complex. Looks like they've straightened their leadership issues enough for the undertaking of founding a colony to start, since wagons loaded with tools and materials are waiting at the entrances. While the workers and engineers on the surface are making quite a racket, the cavecrawlers are silent.
Each scounting party is composed of six goblins, armed to the teeth and dressed in armor and protective clothing. Each of them is carrying a small lamp, but they don't actually need them most of the time.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
Davitte is paused on a limestone stalagmite that the tops seems to have been cut off. Sitting cross-legged, he examines the three drow he's captured closely. He hasn't checked their belongings yet, and is confident enough in his own abilities that whatever weapons they didn't drop or lose when fighting him are still on their belts or in their belt pouches. The three drow struggle against the tight leather bindings around their limbs and fingers, but it is to no avail.
For anyone who cannot understand Latin, Yuan-Ti, or undercommon, listening to him is pointless. If they can understand him (whether through mundane or magical means):
"If you little monsters don't stop squirming about while I'm trying to think, I'm just going to eat you."

[Project_Mayhem]

[Tunnels]

Gunther shuffles around, humming to himself, as he looks for a snack.

What, you didn't know the Troll cave had roots down here?

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
Gunther is being watched, whether he knows it or not, by three bull mastiff sized worms. The worms are segmented on top, like centipedes, and the armored plates forming the segments look so much like rocks it's as if the creatures shaped stones and stuck them up there. Beneath, their flesh is a bulging, squishy, disgusting mass of sickly gray flesh the color and consistency of a rotten cave toadstool. A sticky, drool/glue like substance drips from the three small mouths arranged in a circle at the front end of their bodies, oozing past the sharp teeth said mouths are full of. At the front and back end of the worms are three pairs of sharp pincer-legs.
One of the worms slowly lurches forward, making a soft noise like rubbing two wool shirts together.

[Project_Mayhem]

Gunther stops

ae you guys senti ... sapi ... talkers?

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
When Gunther begins to talk, all three move. They don't seem to be cooperating, and each one is trying to reach him the fastest. One even shoves the other out of the way.
A LOT of that sticky glue stuff is coming out of their tri-mouths now...

[Project_Mayhem]

Gunther smiles. Food!

He starts charging towards them, fist ready to grab and tear

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
The worm closest to Gunther rears up and leaps at him. With lightning fast speed.
Like seriously, half blink and you'd miss it. The worm attempts to stick itself to Gunther with it's amazingly sticky saliva, then wrap itself around him and dig in with it's pincers.

[Project_Mayhem]

gah!

It does so. Gunther slams it against the wall

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
The worm (apparently stuck to Gunther's arm) is slammed against the wall and has it's innards squished and sprayed all over the inside of it's shell, but continues to chew weakly on Gunther and attempt to eat him.
Damn...invertebrates are tough!
And now another worm is launching itself at Gunther!

[Project_Mayhem]

Gunther tries to catch this one. He's faster than he looks. If he grabs it, he attempts to shove it into his maw, devouring it.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
The worm is caught! And eaten! But wait, what's this?
The head is still trying to cling to his lower arm!
Not to mention it tastes absolutely disgusting! Like cream and sour cheese mixed with rotten milk and bad yogurt in a blender that likes to leave chunks and then someone added tripe and sauceless spaghetti noodles!

[Project_Mayhem]

Gunther noms it happily. He's a glutton for anything.

He ignores the bitey one, and tries to grab the third

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
The second worm is finally chewed down and swallowed, the first worm is dying-albeit slowly-, and the third worm is grabbed.
As soon as Gunther picks it up, though, it spits a wash of that instant-dry spaceship grade crazy glue spit at Gunther's face! Oh teh noes!

[Project_Mayhem]

bad food! bad food!

Gunther squishes the middle of the worm, and pulls at the stuff on his face

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
The worm is squeezed so hard it rips in half and falls to the ground squirming and spilling its guts across the cavern floor! Gunther's hand should stick to his face when he touches the glue stuff, but he will find it dissolves when it touches saliva.

[Project_Mayhem]

This probably takes a while. Including much wall bumping.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
And the whole time, the first worm is still wrapped around Gunther's arm and eating bits and pieces of him, leaving little 'tri-force of power' bite marks on his arm if it gets through his skin.

[Project_Mayhem]

It can probably get through his skin. Pretty rubbish predator if it can't. His flesh just regenerates though

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
Well, then! It has an infinite supply of food now, doesn't it?
The worm's bites slow down and grow weaker and weaker until finally it dies, and with a gentle heave, pulls itself off of Gunther and falls to the ground, dead and edible.

[Project_Mayhem]

Self cannibalism! Yay!

Gunther noms the corpse. Any implanted eggs or similar, will have real problems with the trolls metabolism.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
I hadn't thought of that...
The species of worm I based these off of don't do that, though.
Of course, they're also nigh-unkillable, move faster than sound, and have a venomous bite that paralyzes their prey in two seconds flat...
Whatever. The point is, the worms are entirely safe to eat, if disgusting and likely to give Gunther the runs.

[Project_Mayhem]

Gunther eats anything. Seriously. He's eaten worse. :smalltongue:

[TechnoScrabble]

[Tunnels]
Well...crap...
I don't have anything to do in Underside now.
Erm...have fun with the troll diarrhea and all...

[Darklord Bright]

http://img7.imageshack.us/img7/4734/crystalminer.png

[Undercity - Miners Guild]

Shy'anni the miner drills. Drilling is what she does. Day after day, she uses her mining knowledge to help the other miners to build more of the city, accepting contracts to renovate or just to dig. She is a miner. It's what she does.

The miners guild exists to expand the city, and to find valuable minerals. With the help of the giants, they are given the hard crystal tools necessary to penetrate some of the thicker materials. Glow-crystal is remarkably strong - usable as boots to keep one's balance in cave-tremors, hard-hats to withstand falling rocks, and drills hard enough to mine most things that aren't crystal or adamantite. They may still shatter after enough use or damage, but that is nothing the giants can't fix.

Shy'anni fits her miner's gear on, moving with solid thumps of her boots as she makes her way out of the guild headquarters. The miners are a useful part of this city. They help keep everything working.

Leaving the guild, she stops out into the streets, heading towards the edge of town to assist in a northwards expansion.

[Baeleck]

[Undercity - North Bridge]

At the far end of the bridge is a young, upper class man, with curly chestnut hair and a dapper green waistcoat. One would know he's part of one of the noble families from the coat of arms stitched onto the right arm of his shirt, in silver.

Despite his status, however, he looks to have been backed into the corner of the railings by a rather imposing figure, wearing a rich red robe and carrying a fine jewelled staff. The man's skin has a somewhat yellow tinge to it.

"Corvus... sir, I... appear to have-"

The man interjects. "I hate to get angry with you, but where are the papers!?" Teeth gritted, he thrusts his crook-ended staff forcefully against the man's throat,

"I'll have it, I'll have it!" the man squirms helplessly up against the railings, head tilting slowly back as Corvus pushes harder. "I'll have it soon! I just need time!"

"You and I entered an agreement, Marco." Corvus swipes his staff away and turns on his heel. "You will uphold your part in it. I have nothing more to say."

With that, the robed man strides off, heading back in the direction of the main city, leaving Marco panting and shaken where he stands.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]
Davitte is paused on a limestone stalagmite that the tops seems to have been cut off. Sitting cross-legged, he examines the three drow he's captured closely. He hasn't checked their belongings yet, and is confident enough in his own abilities that whatever weapons they didn't drop or lose when fighting him are still on their belts or in their belt pouches. The three drow struggle against the tight leather bindings around their limbs and fingers, but it is to no avail.
For anyone who cannot understand Latin, Yuan-Ti, or undercommon, listening to him is pointless. If they can understand him (whether through mundane or magical means):
"If you little monsters don't stop squirming about while I'm trying to think, I'm just going to eat you."

Raril, the drow who had been trailing after Davitte, steps out from behind a nearby stalagmite, throwing back his hood and openly revealing his presence. Having been born and raised in the Underdark, he understood Undercommon quite well. It was in this language that he adresses Davitte.

"I think that would be a waste. Surely they're worth more alive than as food?" He suggests cooly, his voice a soft tenor.

[TechnoScrabble]

Davitte looks up at Raril from behind it's mask.
"And what is the value in that little tidbit of information to you, sirrah? Not even drow like other drow, from what I've seen."
His voice is smooth, slow, hissing, and a bit condescending. But most of all, wary.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

Raril shrugs. "True enough. But we like other races even less. So the idea of seeing my kinsmen held in bondage by another, it's a bit troubling to me." The drow explains, walking a bit closer. "Besides, one is always looking for opportunities." He adds, looking over the trio of captive drow.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
The two drow warriors look up at Raril as if pleading for help, but the priestess maintains an air of snobbishness, refusing to look anyone in the eye unless hypnotized by Davitte.
"What sort of opportunity?" Davitte asks, hiding the fact he's eager to get rid of his new 'goods'.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

Raril looks away from them, now focusing on Davitte, for fear that he might show some flash of sympathy for them. "I am going to be in need of some employees, soon. You, it seems, need to be rid of your stock here. And the price of a living slave will buy you more meals than the worth of their flesh alone." The drow was good at reading people, but Davitte's loss as to what to do with his captives was evident from the begining.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
Davitte nods.
"If you want to buy this worthless lot of warm-bloods, go right ahead. How much are you willing to pay?"

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

"Worthless are they? Hmph. Then, say, fifty silver each?" Raril offers. It was a low-ball offer, but that was the idea with haggling, right? "Better than nothing."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
"For the warriors, sure. In fact, I'm surprised you don't just goad me into killing them, seeing as how they're males. But the priestess? I'm going to want a lot more money for her," Davitte replies.
The priestess smirks at being so valuable.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

Raril looks to the priestess, the haughty smirk on her face. Gods how he hated that look. Seen it too many times on the faces of his sisters as they brought down judgement and punishment upon him. Here, this one was defeated and in chains, but she still wore her arrogance like a crown. The dark part of his heart asked him to leave her to her fate, to let her be a meal for Davitte. The darkest part of the drow, brought out by his surroundings, begged for her to be bought, to be taught a lesson by his own hand.

"What master do you serve, priestess? Who is your god?" Raril asks, having the audacity to look her directly in her eyes.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
"Llolth, in all her dark majesty," the priestess replies, her voice dripping with venom and fervor.
Davitte just smiles and shakes his head.
If he didn't get one hell of a deal now, he'd make her forsake that horrid beast of a goddess.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

"That's what I thought." Raril says, his voice and expression neutral. He turns to again speak to Davitte. "How much do you want for her?"

[Recaiden]

[Drider Cave]

One elf is unconscious.

[Elsewhere]

Two goblins are severally (but not lethally) punished.

[horngeek]

One elf is unwrapped, looted of everything, and then wrapped up again!

When she comes to, she'll be hanging upside down, cocconed but with her head still free... and the silk's pretty much the only thing maintaining her dignity.

...if she knew how Merra operates, that would tell her she isn't going to Shrieker.

Not sure whether that's good or not.

Merra is currently examining her dress. "Ah, you're awake. Sleep well? So, care to tell me your name?"

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Cave]

The drider will find the clothes, the whip, a map, some food and water, a spider symbol, a few scrolls, twine, etc.
"I do not care to, monster." says Phydris the drow.

[horngeek]

The spider symbol is desecrated then chucked in the bin. Merra takes everything else and puts it into storage.

She pouts. "Awww, you hurt my feelings!

I wonder what I can do to make up for it... oh, I know!"

She holds up the whip. "I wonder if you know what this feels like? Maybe I should show you..."

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Cave]

"Do you think, living here, that I do not know pain?" The drow smirks, a bit forcedly.

[horngeek]

"Oh, good point. But me... I can show you what it's like to really be on the other side.

To be a slave, an object. I'll keep you here for as long as it takes to break you, you know.

So, because I haven't had a try of this in a while..."

Merra heads behind Phydris, and uncovers the webbing over part of her back. "So, want to tell me what your name is now? Or don't, I'll just beat you more then."

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Cave]

"You'll beat me anyway. Don't think your words hold any value."

[horngeek]

"Yeah, but I'd beat you less if you told me. Ah, stuff it."

Merra will wrap her mouth up, then start the beating!

Very hard, for quite a while, although she'll stop once the drow starts bleeding.

[Recaiden]

Which won't take so long. Whips are not nice things.
If she weren't gagged, the drow's yells would clearly be much worse. But she is, so Phydris merely jerks in pain inside the entangling web.

[horngeek]

After she's done, Merra unwraps her mouth again. "I can make it hurt less now... you just have to tell me your name. Otherwise, it's hurt a lot more, believe me."

She might notice there are two potions on the table nearby.

[Recaiden]

The elf answers raggedly. "I told you...no. Listen...to your...betters."

[Gullara]

[Tunnel]

Near the top of a somewhat large tunnel outside Undercity is a small crevasse. A pair of legs stick out of the hole and dangle there. Muffled cursing can be heard from inside. Suddenly the person falls out of the hole and hits the ground with a loud curse.

The drow picks himself off the ground and brushes himself off. He's wearing a fancy suit with his old piwafwi over top of it. He runs a hand through his short white hair and looks around. He spots his SRV hat and picks it up, placing it on his head.

The drow sets off down the tunnel, whistling a cheery tune.

[horngeek]

[Merra's Lair]

She shrugs, and drinks one of the potions, then puts webbing back over the bleeding area.

...it'll feel like she's rubbing salt into the wound. :smalleek:

This time, she doesn't gag her, since she wants to enjoy the shrieking. No one should be able to hear, anyway.

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

"I choose, hen. To tell you the name Phydris. So you know who you should not have taken. You do know you'll be killed for this."

[horngeek]

Merra smiles. "There, that wasn't so hard. I doubt I'll be killed, though."

She switches the salt-into-wounds webbing for some under the influence of the other potion.

This one... soothes the wounds instead, and will ensure no scarring.

{{Deadtime, though}}

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]

"That's what I thought." Raril says, his voice and expression neutral. He turns to again speak to Davitte. "How much do you want for her?"

"How much are you willing to pay? Healers and magic users are a dangerous thing, not to be taken lightly," Davitte crosses his arms and begins tapping his foot.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

[Undercity Gate]
As Captain Marnall fishes around in his pocket for a light, his eyes cast down to the unlit cigarette, he feels a warmth in front of his face. "Hey, topsider," he says.

"Where am I?" Skugdim asks. He receives, in an atypically warm tone, the standard speech of troubles and nobles and limbs and meat; he nods solemnly at cleans his nails. "Please, my troubles never got close enough to get a scent, let alone follow me. My troubles haven't been able to tail me to the end of the block. My troubles could wait outside the one door to a personal restroom and miss me leaving. My troubles," Skugdim smiles, lighting his own cigarette on the flame still at his fingertip,"don't even know that they're looking."

"Yeah, well, make sure they don't find out," Marnall replies, gruffly but with a grin. The little green guy got the drop on him, after all, but things would still get rough if he brought any heat.

"Find out what?" Skugdim asks, honest confusion in his arched brow. Marnall's mouth starts as an explanation, and finishes its movement as a smile.

***

Undercity - Streets
"One doesn't hear much Latin, these days," Skugdim remarks, stepping out of the (metaphorical, of course) shadows as it appears that the priestess may be purchased. He didn't want to be seen by any drow, but, dieu que le monde est injuste and all that. "Or does one? I'm somewhat new in these parts."
Shaking debates over pronunciation from his head, he rolls another cigarette and says, calmly, "I'll pay twice what he offers for the priestess." Though he understands undercommon, having grown up enslaved by creatures not dissimilar to the one he was, evidently, about to buy, Skugdim uses only Latin, choosing the language a drow, he hopes, is least likely to comprehend.

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity-Streets]

((Miner image, again.)) (http://img7.imageshack.us/img7/4734/crystalminer.png)

Shy'anni's footfalls thud through the streets. Today isn't too busy for her on the mining scene, but the equipment is practically a necessary mark of being part of the Miners Guild. People knew who you were by sight.

She keeps her eyes out as she moves towards one of the local pubs. Bunch of young men are leaning against the wall having a smoke. One wolf-whistles as she walks by, a few others give drunken, slurred comments.

Every miner loves to spend their days off at the pubs. It was just what you did. Made the miners fairly close with the average blokes, as well, though whether that's a good thing or not is always up for debate.

Still, you met strange people near the pubs. It was just what happened. Just last week, old Willie saw a man getting in a heated argument with a wall, before getting in a fight with it. And losing.

Yep, you met odd people near the pubs.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
"And why is this one worth so much to you, sirrah warm blood?" Davitte asks derisively.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"How often you see a goblin get a drow priestess at his mercy?" Skugdim wasn't exactly telling the truth, but he was hardly lying; whatever pragmatic gains the deal gave him, it was a pleasant thought, too. "It's been a long time since I've been a slave, but it's not the sort of thing one forgets," he finally lit the cigarette he'd been toying with. "I mean, I don't object to you eating her, and I'll look you up if ever I get bored, but her meat will be, well, mostly just as good once I've had my fun."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
Davitte laughs as the priestess squirms at the thought of all that Skugdim mentions. When she starts to shout and curse at him, though, he grabs her head, forces her to look him in the eyes, and holds her there for a few seconds.
She calms down.
"You are a smart little warm blood. Vengeance is a commodity few live to handle."

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"I would've expected more composure, really," Skugdim chides the priestess. To Davitte, he grins, "Too few handle power responsibly enough to survive to its rewards. Everybody is so focussed on not going mad, they miss the forest for the trees. It's the parts that go mad," he looks at the priestess, still smiling, "and the parts that stay sane, that are important." He shakes his head again, looking back to Davitte. "So, how much would you like? A few hundred?" Skugdim leaves out the denomination of currency for the other to fill in. He has more money than he needs, and he'll have more if everything goes right.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity]
"Platinum, mayhaps?" Davitte picks up on this, and the utter sly...ness can be heard in his voice.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

Skugdim reaches behind his ear and pulls out a heavy looking bag of coins. "You should probably count it, I might not have pulled out the right one," he says, shrugging; there were more than a few hundred in the bag. "Just, uh, if it is wrong, don't tell anybody, huh? I wouldn't want word getting around about that sort of thing." He hoped the message that anything above the price of the priestess was a silence bonus got across.

"Your name, in case we could have a few more profitable arrangements?" Skugdim says. Davitte wasn't fond of drow and was fond of profits. That was enough that he could be an important ally when the time came to set his plans in motion.

[Gullara]

((You guys should probably wait for Artemis. You know, because Raril is still there.))

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

((Yeah, it's true. ))

[TechnoScrabble]

((Yer right. Dem.))

[Morty]

[West of Undercity]

The goblin cavecrawling parties spread around, so as to cover more ground. Some of them have already went back, having marked the borders of the future goblin colony in red paint. Others are still exploring, marking their way with signs in Goblin.

[TechnoScrabble]

[West of Undercity]
They may occasionally her scuffling sounds from above them and echoing howls...
Strange, wolves don't live underground!

[Morty]

[West of Undercity]

Indeed they don't. The goblin cavecrawlers - six of them in total - huddle together, aiming their crossbows at the ceiling.

[TechnoScrabble]

[West of Undercity]
With their goblin darkvision, they should be able to see several strange creatures crawling about the ceiling. They have barrel shaped bodies that taper down to short tails, fat legs that spread outward and hook into the stone with sharp claws, and featureless stumps for heads. They appear to be mostly bald, though stiff hair lines their underbellies and spines, and they have three large tempanic membranes (ears on the outside, pretty much) on either side.
One hops down to a nearby rock, and closer inspections reveal they have mouths with large, flat, scraping teeth.

[Morty]

[West of Undercity]

The goblins begin to back away, the crossbows trained on the creatures. They don't shoot yet, because if the weird things aren't agressive, there's no reason to make them attack.

[TechnoScrabble]

[West of Undercity]
The strange creature lurches forward, and from it's mouth extends a long, gray tongue.
If none of the goblins object, the creature happily licks one of them.

[Morty]

[West of Undercity]

The goblins almost shoot, but refrain from doing so when the creature licks one of their faces.
Looks like it's friendly.
Or it's just tasting you.
We should try and take at least one of them with us.
One of the goblins produces a piece of dried meat from his backpack and presents it to the creature.

[TechnoScrabble]

[West of Undercity]
The creature's tongue moves over to taste the food, and the smell lures several others off of the ceiling. I should prolly let you know these things are much larger than the worgs goblins are used to striking up deals with.
They follow the goblins slowly, tantalized by the food.
There's not much to eat down underground, so most animals (I'm going from biology major knowledge, darklordbright can have me retcon this if need be) would be omnivorous scavengers and avoid fighting anything they can't swallow whole.
Seriously, would you want to fight anything when beasts like hooked horrors and duergar and the cave crab are around?

[Morty]

[West of Undercity]

The goblins return to the tunnel through which they entered Underside, leading the creatures with them. They look like they might be useful, so they'll probably end up joining wolves, molerats, kathoblepas(huge armored lizards) and giant beetles in the array of animals the goblins keep around.

[TechnoScrabble]

[West of Undercity]
The ceiling wolves follow the goblins, trilling softly, but they won't head anywhere that's well lit or has a steady air flow. They like it underground.
They are following the goblins a lot closer than they were earlier, though.

[Morty]

[West of Undercity]

The goblins definetly won't lead them above ground. Their destination is the edge of the large construction site that the western part of Underside has become since the goblins arrived. There, they'll be given into the care of animal tamers, who will feed them and try to lead them to a cozy cave a little out of the way.

[TechnoScrabble]

[West of Undercity]
The ceiling wolves are easily led to the cozy little cave, and happily eat any food they are given. They're strong, but refreshingly docile for Nexus wildlife.

[Morty]

[West of Undercity]

Over the course of the next few weeks, the animal trainers will attempt to make the ceiling wolves accustomed to being around goblins and obeying the trainers' orders. They will also examine the creatures' build, behavior and physiology in order to find what they might be useful for.

[TechnoScrabble]

[West of Undercity]
The ceiling wolves can walk on any of the soft limestone surfaces that make up most caverns, can stun enemies and send signals with their advanced sonic membranes, have a sort of 'danger sense', and are very strong.
They don't taste very good, though their milk tastes almost like rice pudding.

[Shadowcaller]

[Tunnel--> Undercity]

An invisible being heads out into the city of underside, carefully observing every person or other interesting thing it comes across. Otherwise staying completely passive.

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

The elf...is still trapped in a web. Did Merra expect thanks? She gets no words at all.

[Morty]

[West of Undercity]

The ceiling wolves will be adapted to the role of sniffing for people and items in hard to reach places and sending messages using their membranes, then. The goblins will also milk them.

[TechnoScrabble]

[West of Undercity]
That's just fine.
Hey, I just randomly came up with those as a bit of fluff when this thread first started and now they're part of a goblins society! Cool!

[horngeek]

[Merra's Lair]

"Hmmm... so, now that I'm done that, I suppose I should give you some rest. I need to eat first, though."

Merra gets some food, and will start eating right in front of the drow!

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

The elf glares at the food-hoarding drider, but there's little she can do.

[horngeek]

[Merra's Lair]

"You could always ask nicely."

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

"I could. But why would I?"

[horngeek]

"Because starving sucks?"

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

"Maybe later." The drow closes her eyes to the meal.

[Baeleck]

[Undercity - Streets]

Corvus stalks his way along the streets, his path taking him along one of the curving boulevards that led along the very edge of the large stalactite that held the city centre, his eyes calmly surveying the buildings far below. He was not best pleased today - no good was coming of Marco. This was not the first time the young lad had let him down. Corvus hopes he won't have to deal harshly with him.

His next meeting would, hopefully, prove more fruitful. He continues on, heading for the next meeting point of the day.

[horngeek]

[Merra's lair]

Merra makes sure the smell wafts its way to her nose. :smallamused:

After being done, she looks at her new prisoner a bit more closely. How old is she, hair, eyes, stuff like that.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]
"And why is this one worth so much to you, sirrah warm blood?" Davitte asks derisively.


"How often you see a goblin get a drow priestess at his mercy?" Skugdim wasn't exactly telling the truth, but he was hardly lying; whatever pragmatic gains the deal gave him, it was a pleasant thought, too. "It's been a long time since I've been a slave, but it's not the sort of thing one forgets," he finally lit the cigarette he'd been toying with. "I mean, I don't object to you eating her, and I'll look you up if ever I get bored, but her meat will be, well, mostly just as good once I've had my fun."


[Undercity-Streets]
Davitte laughs as the priestess squirms at the thought of all that Skugdim mentions. When she starts to shout and curse at him, though, he grabs her head, forces her to look him in the eyes, and holds her there for a few seconds.
She calms down.
"You are a smart little warm blood. Vengeance is a commodity few live to handle."


"I would've expected more composure, really," Skugdim chides the priestess. To Davitte, he grins, "Too few handle power responsibly enough to survive to its rewards. Everybody is so focussed on not going mad, they miss the forest for the trees. It's the parts that go mad," he looks at the priestess, still smiling, "and the parts that stay sane, that are important." He shakes his head again, looking back to Davitte. "So, how much would you like? A few hundred?" Skugdim leaves out the denomination of currency for the other to fill in. He has more money than he needs, and he'll have more if everything goes right.


[Undercity]
"Platinum, mayhaps?" Davitte picks up on this, and the utter sly...ness can be heard in his voice.


Skugdim reaches behind his ear and pulls out a heavy looking bag of coins. "You should probably count it, I might not have pulled out the right one," he says, shrugging; there were more than a few hundred in the bag. "Just, uh, if it is wrong, don't tell anybody, huh? I wouldn't want word getting around about that sort of thing." He hoped the message that anything above the price of the priestess was a silence bonus got across.

"Your name, in case we could have a few more profitable arrangements?" Skugdim says. Davitte wasn't fond of drow and was fond of profits. That was enough that he could be an important ally when the time came to set his plans in motion.
((Did he really just toss him a bag full of hundreds of platinum coins?))

[Undercity-Streets]

Raril gives the newcomer an odd look, something along the lines of 'who in the Nine Hells are you?' The drow scowls when a bag of coins is tossed to Davitte.

His eyes glow red as he remembers his own pain."If Vengence is the currency you seek, I can assure you I have far more to spend. Let me ask you, friend, how long did you spend in your bondage? What did they have you do? Menial jobs? I suppose you were whipped and beaten, but that is nothing compared to what I have suffered at the hands of Lolthite priestesses. For over a century I was a slave in all but name, a personal test subject for my sisters' experiments. Magically coerced to do their bidding, against my will. And even when I chose to serve them, to try and do my best to succeed, when I proved myself an asset to our House, still I was punished. They marked me, doomed me, so that whatever path I chose for myself my fate was sealed. They gave my soul to the Spider Queen. For seventy years my mind was poisoned by their magic. When I finally managed an escape to the Surface, I was hunted down, stretched across an altar, and had a sacrificial dagger driven into my heart." Raril places a hand over his heart, hidden beneath the fabric of his shirt, a pale scar still marked the blow that had claimed his life. "You survived your slavery. I spent what felt like an eternity in the depths of the Demonweb Pits. And though I was brought back, though I live again, I still have never had my vengence against the servants of the Spider Queen." He looks up at Davitte, focusing his attention on him. "If you think the Goblin will make her suffer, just imagine what a Drow could do."

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

The drow suffers quietly. The drow looks somewhat young, only 30 or 40, with odd blue eyes. White hair, as all of them have. Most of her is covered in webbing.

[horngeek]

"Hmmm... so, what next... maybe come back to you in the morning."

[Shadowcaller]

[Undercity-Streets]

A pair of invisible eyes watches Raril as he speaks, deciding to stay in this part of the streets for a moment.

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

"You could let me go, and perhaps save yourself in the end."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
Davitte laughs.
Being reptilian in nature, his laugh sounds more like a hacking cough.
"Are you trying to convince me or the goblin here? I'm only interested in earning a good bit of cash on this."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

"Well, if he is going to offer you double whatever I offer, we find ourselves in a bit a predicament." Raril points out.

[horngeek]

Merra chuckles. "Ohhh, a defiant one! Hmmm... I think I'll let you think about that for tonight."

She'll wrap up the drow's head, blindfolding and gagging her but leaving her air to breathe. "One thing to keep in mind, though, is that you're nowhere near the first drow I've done this to, and none of them were ever found. No, you're not leaving here unless you're broken or dead, I'm afraid. Wait, no I'm not. I'm pleased to say it, actually."

She'll carry her up with her and weave her into one of the webs, before heading to sleep next to her.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
Davitte uncrosses his arms and takes a seat on a nearby stone.
"You have a point," he says in his snaking, slithering voice, "Perhaps there is a way you can convince me that doesn't involve money? Maybe there's a deal to be made somewhere. I live off of whatever I can at the time and love money, you both seem to love vengeance and giving me money. I'm sure something fits in there."

[Earl of Purple]

Tunnels Near Undercity- To Be Temple of Dalachrech

The young female drider with the bags of religious articles and holy symbols is working here. It's literally on the outskirts of Undercity; a few nearby caves are inhabited but it's generally find a cave, convert it to a house and expand Undercity slightly. Yes, the miners build houses in the tunnels they dig, but they sell those. These caves are free and easier for those on a lower income or don't want to deal with outsiders to live in.

Mainly what she is doing is constructing several large, interlocking cocoons near the ceiling of the tunnel, held up by ropes of spider-silk. There's bits of other building materials; some stones anchored by the mega-strong silk, bits of dried mushroom-wood, glow-crystals, that sort of thing. There's one visible entrance, a hole in one of the largest cocoons with a rope ladder spun from spider-silk enabling egress for humanoid visitors; drider can climb up the wall and across the bottom of the cocoon easily.

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity - Pub]

Shy'anni's equipment glows dimly as she chugs down another drink from her crystal mug. Two more mugs lie empty on the table, and she will likely soon be calling for another.

After all - what's a day off if you don't get smashed drunk and do something stupid?

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

Raril chuckles and grins. He thinks he has something here. "Tell me my friend, do you enjoy a good drink now and then?"

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
Davitte grins beneath his mask.
"I can outdrink duergar. I can out haggle them, too. Let's grab a drink and talk business, shall we?"
He hands the leather straps tied to the two warriors to Raril and slings the priestess over his shoulders despite her violent protests.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

Raril recieves his purchases and walks along with Davitte. "That sounds like a wonderful idea." The drow agrees, his smile broadening. He could outdrink a duergar? That little tidbit might put the bar-owner over the top in this bidding war.

[VampireRot]

[Tunnels - Entrance from above-ground]

Walking inside a dark cave is a robed and cloaked figure, though unlike most such figures, his sandy-hair and mismatched blue and green eyes are not covered by a hood. Dark and mysterious is rather overdone and silly, and Isaac has nothing to hide. Sitting upon the human's shoulder is an invisible imp, and walking with him is the metallic woman Ilaris.

The magician pauses in front of the looming darkness that marks the entrance to the Underside, the faint light from the cave's mouth ending completely there.

"I'm going to summon some... 'help', now."

Isaac retrieves some chalk from inside one of his many pockets and kneels down to trace out a perfect circle with a five-pointed star inside. The uneven cave floor isn't an obstacle, as the perfectly straight lines attest to. The magician surveys his work for a moment, glancing at Ilaris to see her reaction before continuing.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
The drow warriors are slow and trudge along, but they follow Raril. The priestess on the other hand screams and shouts and generally causes a ruckus until Davitte pulls down his goggles and hypnotizes her, as well as anyone else looking at his eyes, to calmly stay were they are.
Hey, an entire edible and paralyzed cave rat!
Davitte bends down, snaps the rodent's neck with his thumb, and slides it into one of the pouches slung across his chest.
"What establishment garners your preference?" Davitte asks in typical yuan-ti loquaciousness.
Hey, someone needs to make a bar for this place!

[Baeleck]

[Undercity - Streets]

"Ah, Yauri. How pleasant to see you again."

Corvus nods to a lavishly-dressed woman who approaches on the street corner, her features brimming with happiness. "Thank you again for all you've done, Corvus. You've been so helpful..."

She curtseys and, with a quick graceful movement, withdraws a purse of money from within her velvety coat. Corvus's eyes grow a little, eyeing the bag. He blinks the greedy look away, and nods again.

"It was nothing, and really... this token is not necessary. It is a lot..."

"Oh no, I insist!" She thrusts the purse forwards. He hesitates for only a moment before taking it off her hands.

"I expect I shall see you again. You are a truly generous woman." A third nod. "If you'll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be. Pray you be safe."

Yauri beams and, with a swift turn, continues on her way along the pathway. Corvus moves off too, his hands prizing apart the purse so he can gaze inside. Look at all those coins.

Very nice indeed...

[Shadowcaller]

[Undercity-Streets]

The invisible eyes darts between the events going on below the earth, unable to take it all in at once. Instead it stays near the slavers, Raril and the goblin.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Streets]

That was actually the primary reason Raril was down here. He was looking to purchase a location for a new bar. He ended up finding serving staff first, instead. However...

"There's a pub over there." He notices.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Streets]
"Indeed there is. Let us partake of inebriating beverages in order to clear our wonderfully brilliant minds, get down to business, and maybe win a bar fight or two," Davitte sounds wonderfully vain when talking business.
I think he'll be good pals with Raril, though.

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity - Pub]

"Are you sure you've not had too many?" the serving-boy asks to the miner as she calls for the next mug, "That's at least six mugs I count on the table."

"Ah, get over it and shends ush another ya bassird, mm'not... I c'n shtill have plenny." Shy'anni slurs, "Gimme another, m'not onna ground yet."

The serving boy looks over at the bartender, who shrugs, before going and bringing her another.

"There'sh a good kid. Knowshiz shtuff."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

Raril slips into the pub, leading his two newly purchased slaves, and likely accompanied by Davitte. The drow stops for a moment to scan the room, before selecting an empty table.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Pub]
Davitte follows Raril in, a woozy drow priestess slung over his shoulder. He pulls down his mask and takes in a deep whiff of pub air, revealing his glowing mouth and hypnotizing eyes.
"I do enjoy spending time in such establishments as this."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

Raril found the glowing mouth a bit curious, but is polite enough not to stare or comment on it.

"I'm planning on opening a bar myself, down here. I already own one on the surface and I was hoping to expand." The drow explains.

[Baeleck]

[Undercity - Streets]

After pocketing the gold, Corvus takes out a list from within his robes, to see where he was calling in at next. His face falls a little. He was to meet a rather unsavoury fellow at a (by his standards, at east) rather unsavoury establishment. Pubs were not places Corvus visited socially. No, he had dinner parties and high-class restaurants for that sort of thing, where he didn't have to deal with the dregs of society.

He'd deal with it, though. He wouldn't spend long there, unless his rendezvous was late. Which, given the person, was actually fairly likely. Damn.

He makes his way in the pub's direction, in no real hurry.

[Shadowcaller]

[Undercity-Streets]

The observer decides to stay out of the tavern, too much people involved and goes to scan the city streets instead.

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity-Pub]

At one of the tables, a woman in mining gear topples over backwards. The sound is quite loud, but due to the very same equipment that caused the noise, she is not knocked out by the fall, and instead sort of... writhes slowly on the ground, unable to pick herself up in her drunkenness.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Pub]
It's not really his mouth, just his saliva. All his bodily fluids glow this color.
"A fellow businessman, eh? Ah then, that explains your apparent experience in this sort of conversation," Davitte grabs a booth table and sits the hypnotized priestess up as if she were actually going to be part of the conversation.
"Ahoy-hoy, servant! Please acquire a list of beverages for me and my fellow here at your earliest convenience!"
Then Davitte sees the miner woman collapse.
"Oh."

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity-Pub]

Shy'anni crawls up onto her knees, wobbling to her feet by using the table next to her. Stumbling, she slowly works her way to the door, holding onto the tables, before tripping over a chair with a curse and tumbling once more to the floor with a crash, this time at Davitte's feet, which she grabs onto for support to stand.

She sees that they are, in fact, a person's feet.

"Ohhai...." she mumbles.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

Raril joins Davitte in the booth, letting his two drow slaves take a seat at a nearby table. Still bound as they were, he didn't expect them to try to run. At the very least, they wouldn't get very far.

"Indeed, I pride myself on my negotiation skills."

The drow jumps a bit when the miner his the floor with a thud. He frowns and turns to watch her struggle. Remembering just where he was, Raril wondered just how long she would last like that.

"Speaking of drinks, what I may not be able to match in coin, I could certainly match in alcohol." Raril offers Davitte. "Or other liquids, if you prefer."

Oh, look, the miner was at their feet now. This could get interesting.

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Pub]
Davitte leans down to help Shy'anni to her feet, though he'll pause halfway through and try to get her to look him in the eyes. Drunk as she is, it should be relatively easy, but what do I know.
He talks off-handedly to Raril.
"Always a good offer. I was also rolling a bit of a thought around in my mind. You seem to be one of those drow runaways, but not one of those common goody-two-shoes kind. Your particular style is...refreshing, to say the least. I was thinking that between my mapping job and constantly being attacked, and your apparent want for...indefinitely indentured servants, we could strike up a deal. A win-win arrangement."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

"Well, I'll only need so many employees. But for now, I think that could work. But what will it cost me?"

The drow frowns a bit at Davitte's interaction with Shy'anni. He'd seen how his gaze affected the priestess, was he trying to do the same thing here? Subduing an enemy was one thing, but enchanting a random bar patron? For now, the Drow debates saying anything.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

[Undercity - Pub]
"Blah blah blah, cry for me, the abused little nobleman, whose existance was almost like being a slave. How trite," Skugdim says, somewhat surprised the drow understood Latin. "To go simpering on and on about your kin, but retain their arrogance. You think that only you are good enough for real pain. Of course only a drow has the ingenuity to return from the grave, because any prison I can escape, you can escape one a hundredfold worse, of course. You were rescued by someone else from the puny torments of a reprobate psuedo-goddess in her mislaid little layer of the Abyss? You poor thing," Skugdim's voice drips sarcasm.
"You think we weren't enchanted and hypnotized? You think they didn't torture us for their amusement as harshly as they tortured you for your failures? You've been victimized by your own weakness. The spells didn't work on me, because I resisted them. The beatings didn't break me because I didn't live in the present, I lived in the future. I lived now, watching her sad little eyes understand humility. When the lash hit, I smiled, drow.
"You had a surface to flee to, drow. You were 'brought back.' Be glad you had someone willing to waste the diamond dust. Not everybody was so lucky," Skugdim finished, not really knowing or caring if anybody was listening. One of the virtues or vices, depending on one's perspective, of madness was that the mad keep speaking long after everybody else stops listening. Skugdim had no patience for these self-pitying runaways, who indulged their little dilettante whims and then explained about their lifeslong quest for vengeance. Skugdim saved up the funds for his, stole when he could so he didn't spend them, all for the day when he could set his plan in motion.
"That is all the past, though," he says, calming down, "Perhaps the two of us could come to some arrang--" he stops, abruptly, at the thud, "You a'right, lady?"

Just because Skugdim is a bitter, spiteful little wretching thing, I'm not. <3 Raril

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Pub]
"Now, now, fellows. Let's not stray into the realms of verbal warfare," Davitte turns to answer Raril's question, "It depends on what exactly you want. To tell the truth, if you just want free labor, I'd just buy up on cheaper catches. What point is there in having a priestess serve drinks?"

[Terumitsu]

[Tunnels - Entrance from above-ground]

Following the not over the top mysterious figure would be an equally not mysterious but probably still interesting elf with a metallic cobalt sheen. She leaned up on the nearest wall and nodded for the mage to go ahead with his summoning. Really, it wasn't as if she could really say no at this point as it was part of the deal. That and she trusted that he had some control over his summoned beings or else he wouldn't be so confident about his ability. It was sometimes hard but there was always a discernible difference between the confidence of something working from theory and something working from practice.

Though, sometimes it was one and the same, depending on what exactly the feat in question that was about to be preformed was.

In any case, the elf glanced around with her sharp eyes to check if anything nasty was laying in wait. It was something her mother had made sure she always do. It was like looking both ways before crossing the street at this point.

Though... hopefully the mage found a properly flat spot to make his circle in. Who knew what could happen from summoning from a botched circle? Well, aside from generally bad things at least.

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity - Pub]

It might take a bit to get a lock on Shy'anni's eyes, mostly because of the helmet obscuring them most of the time, but it may happen. In any case, having been helped to her feet, she pulls away slightly with a "'M'fine, m'fine..."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Pub]
The lock is really all Davitte needs. His eyes are rather tantalizing, and hold within them a powerful magic. A strong hypnosis like effect. Soon after looking away from his eyes, she should feel an urge to sit down quietly in the booth with Raril and Skugdim and the drow and Davitte.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

A wicked smile crosses Raril's face. "The priestess isn't for serving drinks. Not primarily anyways." He adds with a dark chuckle. I don't really want to know what he has in mind there. Probably nothing good.

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity - Pub]

Her head tilts, confusedly. Her brain is already muddled from the drink, so any sort of mental compulsions are likely to just confuse her further. She just sort of stands there, swaying.

[VampireRot]

[Tunnels - Entrance from above-ground]

Isaac, seeing no disapproval from Ilaris surveys his work silently. The magician begins waves his arms and begins chanting under his breath. After about a minute, blue smoke drifts from the ground in the center, forming a medium sized four-legged creature.

An emaciated and hairless blue dog, looking like a greyhound, stares up at Isaac with milky white and sightless eyes. It quivers its bulbous nose and gives a sharp bark, which causes discomfort to mortal ears. Unlike most other dogs, this one has two ram-like horns curving out of its head, behind its ears. An aura of malevolence surrounds it, but the thing seems trapped in the circle.

Isaac begins chanting again, binding it to his will. The imp chitters something to the strange hound, which responds with a low growl. Then, the magician gestures at Ilaris with more words in its fiendish language.

The dog growls again, and puts a paw on one of the pentagram's points. This seems to satisfy Isaac, who gestures again and releases the hound. It walks over to sniff at Ilaris and memorize the magical signature of the metal she's made of.

"That went well. It will aid us."

It wasn't given a choice in the matter, buuuut... :smalltongue:

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

[Undercity - Pub]
"Not primarily, for ✮^✂&❖%✲ sake," Skugdim groans, for whose sake, precisely, droaned out by an ear-splitting sound akin to amplifier feedback in the background of metal chairs scraping across concrete floors. "I'm trying to turn an empire on its head, he's thinking with his --" he turns to the miner "Are you quite all right?"

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Pub]
Davitte stands up for a moment and gently tries to direct Shy'anni to the booth.
"Come, sit, I'll get you a good head-clearer!"
He laughs at Raril and Skugdim.
"Both are personal reasons that to tell the truth, I don't really care about. I'm more worried about how I can make the most money in the long run."
Warm bloods and their carnal pleasures. Curtains may be fun, but they must be used properly.


((Sorry guys, but I'm going to have to deadtime until my usual time now. Just make your posts and I promise I'll have a reply ready at around midnight American and Canadian Eastern time, and even more lined up if you guys are still on then.
Which I hope you are. You're fun to RP with.))

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity - Pub]

Shy'anni is lucky to be led to the seat, because otherwise she probably would have collapsed again. She giggles, head lolling against the seat.

"Whuz with all the weird people?" she giggles, "Imma... mmz." she's tilting to one side, leaning against whoever is sitting next to her.

[Artemis97]

((Cya Later TS))

[Undercity-Pub]

Raril fights down the urge to strike Skugdim for that remark. Unbeknownst to the others here, he was actually a happily married man.

"What are you talking about, toppling empires?" The drow asks, his tone suggesting that the goblin didn't know at all what he was saying.

He also watches what Davitte was doing with Shy'anni. Clever, not a bad cover. To someone who hadn't seen the Yuan-ti at work before, it might have even been accepted as genuine concern.

"Hello, dear." Raril says quietly when she leans up against him. Though, he didn't expect she was really hearing him now.

[Reinholdt]

[Undercity Streets]

The way the women carries herself, the way she's dressed, the weapon of choice. It all screams drow. Of course the fact that she very much looks like a voluptuous seductive nymph might confuse people. But she's a drow.

Sure this place might not be the Matron's goal. But it doesn't hurt to gather information and... make allies for the nym drow's own personal purposes. It certainly never hurt to look.

Ilpholin is sauntering down the street.

http://i455.photobucket.com/albums/qq276/Reinholdt9000/Avatars/Ilpholin.png

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity - Pub]

Shy'anni has pretty much just zoned out now, and she closes her eyes and starts to snore, chest rising and falling slowly.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"I didn't say anything about toppling," Skugdim pedantsays, "I said I was trying to turn one on its head." He shakes his head at the drow missing the point, having recovered his good sense from his anger to again cover his plan. "Metaphorically. It's more humiliating vengeance to be subject not just to a male, but a male iblith; it's turning her whole world upside down."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

"A single acolyte is hardly an empire." Raril points out.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"I said metaphorically, ✂❖$✮," Skugdim says, evidently having enunciated his final blasphemy, since the previous awful sound, repeated at a greater volume. "As well as you listen, you were bound to get caught on the surface. They could've been hill giants in full plate and you wouldn't hear them coming. %❖#&," again, the ending being a horrible sound.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

"You are really a very unpleasant person." The drow observes dryly. It wasn't worth getting mad. That would just make him make mistakes. Besides, with a woman leaning against him and being in a crowded pub, rash actions were not prudent. He could always kill him later.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"Says the other guy trying to buy slaves," Skugdim deadpans. "Or do you mean the noise? I know how to swear, okay? They don't want you to hear, they're particular about their names," he says absently.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

"I'd ask what you were talking about, but you'd probably only insult me more." Raril summises. "So let's talk business instead. What would it take for me to get you to walk away from this deal right now?"

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"You started with the insults," Skugdim points out, "saying who did and didn't know about suffering." He shrugs, "Couldn't really tell you, besides, since they just yell louder every time I say their names."

"Well, I'm in the market for a drow priestess," he says with a smirk. "If you have a particular attachment to this one, I'd take another."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

"Then, by all means, go find another." Raril suggests. "We were already well into negotiations before you came along."

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

Skugdim rolled his eyes. Drow were always entitled to what they wanted by some twisted logic, in this case, first-come-first-serve . "I was there the whole time, I just don't like being noticed by drow, if I can help it. Especially buying other drow. I was hoping to wait until you had finished buying the warriors, so I could get the priestess. Besides, I'd already paid by the time you objected," Skugdim explains, grabbing ahold of calmness again. "So there's perhaps some more equitable way to handle this."

[Artemis97]

((Now, that's hardly fair, I wasn't online when you posted. Of course I would have objected much sooner.))

[Undercity-Pub]

"You've already paid? Then why has our host not given you your purchase yet?" The drow inquires. "And had you truly been there the entire time, you would have known I was examining her for purchase as well."

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

((Well, yeah, OOC, but IC, Skugdim doesn't know/care about how "fair" his advantage was. I figure we'll either come to a mutually beneficial arrangement or you'll end up with the priestess after long enough haggling.))

"I did know that, that's why I intervened before you left." Skugdim says, "I expect he waited to be fair to you; I might not be able to make good on my offer to make a better offer, of course. What do you want with her, anyhow? Anything besides," he scrunches up his face in an attempt to be polite, "uh, not primarily serving drinks?"

[Artemis97]

((Right, but it's an OOC issue, really, which we should discuss in the OOC thread, if you don't mind?))

[Underside-Pub]

Raril chuckles and touches a hand to a sapphire and gold bangle on his wrist. For him it was the equivalent of a wedding band. The drow was fairly certain his wife would not be pleased with what the goblin was implying. "It's not what you're thinking, I assure you that."

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

[Undercity - Pub]
"Then what? I'll tell if you do, whoever has the better reason gets her, if we can't do both. If we're going to buy somebody, might as well we get a little good karma for being good sharers," Skugdim grins, "Mightaswelln't we?"

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

"Well, that seems a might silly. We'll both just think we have the best reason." Raril reasons.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

Undercity - Pub
"Maybe not, worth a try, he smiles. "If we both want vengeance against Lolth, why not take the plan that gets better vengeance?" He's pretty sure a sleeper cell messing up the whole drow heirarchy is pretty good vengeance, so he's pretty confident, but, then, he doesn't have a clue what Raril's planning, does he?

[Artemis97]

[Underside-Pub]

"Vengence... with a side of redemption, perhaps." Raril reches into his shirt and pulls out a holy symbol worked in silver and onyx. Though the drow keeps it mostly hidden, Skugdim may recognize the image of Eilistraiee, dancing before the moon.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

[Undercity - Pub]

"How does," Skugdim stops a moment to check his impulse to call Elistraiee "Our Lady of the Many Vowels," "Elistraiee feel about labour reform? Or, for that matter, worshippers in disguise as clerics of other godesses. Not to let the spider from the bag, or what-have-you," Skugdim says. He's been speaking in Latin, since he believes from earlier that Raril can at least understand it, to not divulge his plan to any other drow listening in. Just in case, he asks "Understand?"

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

Amusingly enough, Raril had cast a spell to understand Davitte a while ago and never bothered to dispell it. "From my experience, she knows disguising onself is often necessary. I recieved this as a gift from just such a priestess. As for labor reform, I don't know. It would certainly teach one humility, though. And I believe the phrase you're looking for is 'let the bat out of the bag'" Or so he had always phrased it. He'd never much liked spiders.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"Well, you can take the man out of the bat, but you can never," Skugdim pauses again, shakes his head more vigorously than before and continues "mind. Nevermind. Well, if she can get back into the heirarchy of priestesses, I think I could arrange a swift rise in her position, which could be to both our ends. I was going to rely on breaking her brain a little with enchantments, but it'll probably be better if you can make a real convert of her. You don't seem much more into the Spinarettes than I am, so I figure we can work together to bring 'em down a notch. I would offer the caveat about getting one's hands dirty, but you're buying three slaves (wanna go half-and-half on the priestess?), so I don't think it's necessary." His switches between maddened non-sequiters and talking business are doubtless jarring to those around him. Maybe not as jarring as ear-splitting shrieks in place of naughty words, but far from normal conversation.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

Raril nods. "Since you've already paid, I suppose I could contribute a bit myself."

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"Well, I have to say, this is the first time I've gotten a halfway fair shake from a drow," Skugdim says, "Also maybe the longest conversation I've had with a sleeping lady at the table." He extends a green hand across to the side not covered in the aformentioned miner, "Skugdim is the name and, if you're familiar with Icelandic, a pretty good one. Not that my parents had any idea, but coincidences wouldn't be coincidences if they didn't coincide."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

Raril glances at the woman who had fallen asleep on him. It was unusual, to be sure, but not the weirdest thing he'd ever seen happen while sitting in a pub.

"I'm Raril" Which, amusingly, translated as 'fool' in his native tongue. One couldn't say the old Matron Xar'Cha didn't have a sense of humor. That or she really hated her son. "Well met. You know, I have to wonder about your plans for the priestess there. Are you trying to suggest that you have ties to the temple of Lolth? And if so, why should I trust you?"

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

[Undercity - Pub]
"Well, I have the influential position of 'the guy who murders all her rivals,' if that counts," Skugdim winks, "But, uh, no official position, of course. It's a simple plan, but that's what makes it so elegant. Those priestesses are murdering each other in the race for position so often that unless I go really overboard, it won't even be a blip on their rader. Er, which is to say that they won't notice."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

Raril tilts his head, giving the Goblin an odd look. This one was going to murder full fledged priestesses of Lolth and no one was going to notice? The drow surpresses the urge to laugh.

"Do forgive me, but I really can't see that happening." At all. Ever. Nope.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"If I hadn't gotten greedy and shot a matron, I would've gotten away with it, last time," Skugdim says. "Matrons don't shoot easily," he explains, sulkily; if his feet could reach the ground from the table, he'd scuff his boots. "The best part is that they go around killing each other over it without bothering to look that hard for the culprit. Obviously it's not a little goblin, they couldn't kill a priestess. Half of them would laugh if you even suggested a fella could pull it off. Er, a male."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

"Yes, and the smart half would know that a threat could come from anywhere. Even a male. Heh, especially a male." Raril adds, smirking at some memory. "But even if you could put her at the top, what good would it do? Someone else will just come along and kill her. Because you've done all the killing for her, she will not have the strength to face other threats. There's a reason the priestesses attack each other so often, and it's not out of blind ambition. Lolth tests them. Pits them against each other so that the strongest and most faithful rise to the top. You may have gotten lucky, to take out the Matron of some minor house, but to take down a High Priestess is another matter entirely."

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

"I would've been lucky if I did. She was fine," Skugdim said, "Poor handmaiden at least went out dressed in classy robes, I guess. I only need to get her into a certain, moderate level for about a day or so. If she can last that long, she's home free. All I need a priestess for is to leave an opening from the inside, so I can make my move. I could try compelling one, but if it doesn't work, the whole jig is up. With somebody actually on my side, in there, it's just keeping her out of the line of fire as much as I can.
"I tried and failed once, but I learn from my mistakes. Sometimes, a little too much, I guess, but I learn, and I've got a plan. If you don't want in, or she doesn't after you housebreak her, you and she can keep out of it. If I fail again, I'll try again. I mean, how's the worst it could go?"

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

Phydris hangs limp in the binding webs. Hunger clamors for attention, but she ignores it for now. One does not become a priestess, however minor, without being tested, and the drider's torments have yet to become too severe. She will pass this test like any other. She will be stronger than this monster.
No true drow would do less.

Eventually, exhaustion drags her into a light sleep, a welcome rest.

[horngeek]

[Merra's Lair]

The next day, Merra unwraps her eyes, and checks to see if she's awake.

If not, she'll slap her awake. "Rise and shine, sleepy!"

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

The drow shakes his head. "I'm sorry, no. I will not be a part of such a gamble, nor will I allow you to risk her in this game of yours. She can be of more use as a follower of the Dancing Maiden. Do you have any idea how rare converts are, especially down here? If you still need someone in a position of power, let her rise through the ranks under her own strength. Then you will have a truly potent ally. One who believes and will help you, one who may even convert others to our side. You act too hastily, a few days is not nearly enough time to form a proper assassination plot." Raril waves a hand dismissively, but is careful not to wake up Shy'anni with the movement. Though one doubts even that would do it. She was out cold. At least, Raril hoped she was asleep and not eavesdropping on everything.

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

The drow is awake, watching Merra.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to sleep while cocooned in a web?

[horngeek]

[Merra's Lair]

Well, she'll probably get used to it after a while. :smalltongue:

"So, how are we this morning? Hungry?"

She takes the webbing off her prisoner's mouth so she can answer/beg for food/ask nicely.

[Recaiden]

[Merra's Lair]

"Slightly. Are you still sadistic and mad?" she inquires brightly.

[horngeek]

"Oh, yes! So, do you want something to eat? All you have to do is ask, you know. Politely, of course. I'll even give you water."

Merra smiles at her.

[Recaiden]

Phydris smiles back. "I will not take sustenance from your poison hand. I am not so near death as to even consider it."
Her expression blossoms into a grin. "But your offer, however mocking, is noted."

[horngeek]

"All right."

Merra picks Phydris up, and carries her down to the kitchen, before webbing her to the wall and getting breakfast for herself.

Oh, and Phydris is upside down. Possibly so the blood rushes to her head? :smallconfused:

[Recaiden]

Possibly. Merra will want to be careful. That can kill people if they're tied in webs and unable to right themselves.

[VeisuItaTyhjyys]

[Undercity - Pub]
"Time is the luxury of people not personally at risk," Skugdim says with a respectful shrug. "I'd risk one of her over a certainty of hundreds or thousands of them," he waves a hand toward two pack of slaves whipped down the streets, pulling chariots in a macabre "race." "As I said, though, getting one's hands dirty, your choice, et ceteras." He shakes his head again, sadly this time, as he realizes saying "et ceteras" would simply translate into something in undercommon, slightly different; it was always so hard to explain things. His deep-set little eyes looked tired in their big blue rings, all of a sudden. He smoothes his hair and rolls another cigarette on the way out, pausing in the doorway to light it; "Oh, yeah, keep the payment, all the same; you didn't once try to kill to me this whole time, that's worth more than you'd think."

[horngeek]

She does keep a good eye on her prisoner, however.

And, partway through, puts her the right way up again. "So, reconsidering?"

[Recaiden]

Phydris laughs. "No."

[horngeek]

"Awww... oh, well."

Merra finishes, before smiling. "So, food look good? Well, I suppose it must. Then again, you don't know whether it actually lives up to its looks... I'd say it does, myself."

[Recaiden]

"As though I could trust it if I wanted it."
Phydris chuckles.
Her stomach growls, but she herself makes no change.
((And with that, deadtime.))

[horngeek]

"Oh, I don't want to kill you... and besides, sooner or later it's going to get to the point where you can either ask me nicely, or die from starvation anyway. Which is incredibly painful."

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

"Don't think I wasn't tempted!" Raril calls after him, his tone was lighthearted, however. He's probably just joking.

[Darklord Bright]

[Undercity - Pub -> Streets]

Shy'anni groans, snorting awake, pushes off of Raril and makes her way out of the pub, her head pounding as she wobbles. She stumbles about in the street for a moment before leaning back against a wall for support.

"Nnng. Shtup... stupid wall. Stup'd drinksh."

[TechnoScrabble]

[Undercity-Pub]
Davitte looks at the two arguing and chuckles dryly.
"No need to exchange heated words. I truly do not care why you want the priestess. If one needs to convince the other to let him buy something instead of me, well. It's a bit unseemly. Besides, we could all enter a deal together. Good sirrah drow, you own a business and plan on opening another, good sirrah Skugdim, you want to do something that will cause massive turmoil and extended periods of drow on everything violence in these caverns. Me, my mind works purely on business, logic, and instinct. While I won't go actively searching for anything, I will do my best to bring back anything that attacks me."
He watches Shy'anni leave, smiling.
If he could influence someone with his eyes once, he could do it again.
He didn't have any plans or anything, but she looked like she frequented the pub and a friendly fist in a bar fight is always good.
Plus, as much as he acts like an ass during business or combat, he's actually rather friendly, and hypnotizing people tends to make them more accepting of what he is.

[Artemis97]

[Undercity-Pub]

Raril was glad to see Shy'anni get up and leave under her own power, and not under the thrall of Davitte. Rescuing her would have probably put a dent in their business deal.

"As unseemly as it may have been," The drow says, turning back to Davitte. "It was certainly effective. The goblin has agreed to allow me to purchase the priestess and also wishes to contribute what he's already paid to the deal, which, if I am not mistaken, is a sizeable amount."