Daemons slain, cities saved, and Old Shanatar looms ahead.

The cambion's quarters is carpeted in human skin. The bed he slept on was made of human, Svirfnebln, drow, dwarf, and other humanoid corpses, mutilated to a bloody pulp. After searching your incredibly morbid surroundings in the Cambion's quarters, you will have eventually found manuscripts and journals, all penned in human (and other) blood. The majority of it is in Tanar'ri, a language none of you understand. Some however would be written in common, and you would be able to piece together a bit of information.

The cambion marquis is named Adara Abezethibou and has been working to prove himself to a true tanar'ri that he will not name. He hopes to serve as a body guard or informant to a daemon greater than himself. The attacks made by the children above were a result of a spell developed by Adara, designed to affect all those innocent in the eyes of Ao, within the city. Clearly the details would have been worked out in conjunction with a priest of that god.

Adara's journal mentions how he found Hardisty, shortly after the priest's role against the tuigan horde. Hardisty was tortured for a while by the daemon, and eventually let go. Hardisty then gained power in Zazesspur and was once again confronted by the daemon 4 months ago. Hardisty was given a choice; eternal torment, or cooperation. Hardisty had been so broken by the daemon before that he simply could not resist. Adara planned to gain control of Zazesspur and turn it into an area not unlike hellgate keep. He wanted the whole of tethyr in chaos, and hoped to spread north. Being a daemon however, he had no plans for complete domination, but would prefer utter chaos. Adara was working with Zhent slavers for a time, but they were eventually recalled by their masters for fear of dealing with a daemon of such power. The few that stayed behind were used as fluffing for adara's bed, and ink for his pen.

The cambion enlisted the help of Maerk'dicXan, a beholder of no small power. The beholder was apparently working against a group of Svirfnebln, only half a mile to the east of your current location. Apparently Adara knows the beholder wishes to be rid of the partnership, but the lesser guardian deamon the beholder summoned actually works for Adara. The beholder appeared to be in a horribly inescapable situation.

You are in the middle-dark, a section 3 to 10 miles below the surface of abeir-toril. Adara believes he is 4.5 miles from the surface. You are specifically in Old Shanatar, an area once under control of that great dwarven region. Duergar are the most populace sentient creature here, with drow, svirfnebln, and illithids being in the extreme minority. The whole of this region of the underdark stretched from calimshan to just south of the cloak wood near baldurs gate. The area you are in has very smooth walls in nearly every chamber. The work is dwarven, and there is evidence of ancient mining operations. The area in the central room is now littered with the bodies of the Manes Lowantha dispatched. There was at one point, a great gate, built by adara to bring more daemons into the area. That gate was destroyed, and created a huge explosion, in trying to get that force into Zazesspur. The gate was also used to bring in cattle for the manes to feast on, as they can become incredibly hungry on the prime material plane. There is little natural source of light where you are, save for the light emitting fungi that grows on some walls. Some creatures strategically grow this fungi in order to light up their quarters, but none appear to be nearby. There is little water source nearby, save that of the svirfnebln encampment talked about in Adara's journal, and a great underground river to the south. There is little indication of what direction you are facing at any one time. The air is obviously thinner here, and you can feel the exhaustion that results from this now that the heat of battle has subdued.

Map of the underdark included in the journals: http://smokeandmirrors.lucifel.net/vof/maps/Underdark01.jpg

You stand with Lowantha, your healing exhausted, your hands bloodied, and your heart still pounding. You have killed great evil today, and gathered up much treasure, but where you go next, you have no idea. Up I suppose, is the only answer. How, is the only question.

A sickening silence filled the dank, cavern air. The only sounds audible at the moment were those of the group's breathing. The air in the cave was decidedly stale. T'alev attempted to stifle the pace of his breathing to reduce his intake of the air.

Gripping the pommel of his newly claimed sword, Moonblaze, Tal held it tightly by his side. The room shimmered in the pale, cold, blue light that the blade emitted, the illumination dancing and flickering along the walls and floor of the tunnels. Lowantha broke the silence, passing corked potions to the various bruised and bloodied adventurers. Everyone else took two of the vials and gulped them down. T'alev was injured, yes, but he had been in worse condition before.

Though, in all honesty, it seemed that each time Tal met up with Vajra, it brought him great pain. His stoic grimace turned further downwards towards the cave floor. Looking at the blade in hand, he heaved a sigh. This was the last place he would have anticipated being stranded. Each party member was in dire straights. Belril looked as though he could barely stand up, his wounds had been grievous in the fight moments before. Vorian, his injuries also fairly severe, was visibly fatigued. The battle drained much of his mental power.

'The company down here could be worse,' T'alev thought. It was a minor bit of solace that he would find in this situation.

"Well, now what?" That must have been the question on everyone's mind.

Belril gives himself a mental shake as the potions work their magic across his many wounds. The battle was fierce and he notes that he is covered in quite a lot of Naga blood, and more than a little of his own as well. He begins to take off his armor and borrows Nelo's armor kit, working to clean off the gallons of Naga blood as well as the beginnings of rust from wading the river a few days prior.

"We do what any sensible person does when he finds himself trapped in the Underdark. We get out as fast as we can." Belril offers a grim smile before he continues. "Consider the knowledge offered by the Cambion's journals. If this beholder has been preying on the Svirfneblin we may be able to find some less-than-hostile peoples down here. I say we bring whatever is left of that beholder and try to find this Svirfneblin settlement. They'll probably be grateful we killed it, at least enough to not kill first and ask question later. The Cambion had some gems so perhaps we can trade for supplies we may need, I don't imagine water is too common down here, we could use that if nothing else. If we're lucky perhaps we can find a Svirfnebli that speaks one of our languages. It may be too much to hope they know a way to the Upperdark and out, but that also would be a question worth asking."

Belril pauses and looks over the weapons he stripped from the Cambion. "Vorian, you know how to wield a short-sword right? This Glassteel sword is probably a good weapon for you. Lowantha, I suspect this Longsword has some power to it, but I'd like to see if it is magical and have it Identified before I go off trying to wield it and find out the hard way that the thing actually is Evil rather than just looking it. When we get a chance could you give it a look over?"

Nelo takes out his bowl and puts Merlin's spoon in it. He lays it in front of his new friend and urges it to eat.

Looking to the rest of the company he says: "The journal says something about a river to the south. Common sense says a river will flow towards a larger body of water. If that river follows this assumption then it will flow into the ocean; maybe if we follow that river we can find our way out of here. It would probably be dangerous as any river down here will have settlements on it but right now that seems like a good place to start.

One more thing does anyone here speak elvish, I need to name my friend here and would need some translating to find the right word."

Nelo looks back to make sure he/she is eating.

"I do speak Elvish Nelo. Let's see a name for a mount of a paladin to the god of guardians. Tha- would be a prefix meaning vigilant... Bael- would mean Guardian, -tas means wall..." Belril's voice descends into mumbling for a few moments as he ponders names, "Baelian or Baelianna, depending on gender would mean Guardian Lord or Guardian Lady. Thavain would mean Vigilant Spirit, roughly. Baelrae means Guardian Beast. Tharuil is Noble Vigil, Baelitas, Guardian Wall, Thamus, Vigilant Companion... All fine names for a protector."

"As for following the river, you make one mistake, friend. We are at least four miles underground. If that river flowed to the ocean then logically the ocean would be inside this cavern and a few miles over it besides." Belril consults the map in the journals. "If anything it might flow to this 'Lake of Radiant Mists' under southern Tethyr and Calimshan or possibly be flowing out of this smaller lake that is under Amn. Down here, out is up. If we are to follow that river in any direction it should be uphill, against its flow, that way lies daylight."

Vorian handles the sword, admiring it's unique appearance.

"Please forgive me, this has been a tiring day, and it doesn't look like we are done in the foreseeable future. Glassteel... interesting. While I have lately preferred to fight from afar, I don't have that option right now, and this may help in the 'what's next' discussion. Quite frankly, I fear that next for us may very well be death. Maybe not immediately, but we are not in a good position, and are unprepared for this. This sword may delay that briefly, but I am not the optimist here."

"Lowantha, so eagerly we tied our fate to yours. We appreciate your intentions."

Vorian stands with the glassteel sword at the ready, trying to appear alert, but is easily betrayed by his glazed eyes as his thoughts focus inwards.

"Next... we... I... don't know...out...light..."

Give me a second to post before you guys continue, please.

Lowantha, he body and mind both clearly exhausted, offers her thanks;

"I did not ask a single one of you to stay with me while keeping that portal open. I did not, and would not, expect anyone (save a few of the members of my company) to brave the lightness world with me. Yet still, here you are. You are braver souls than most i have met, and you are true friends, to each other, and myself."

Lowantha shrugs, and looks at Belril

"I fear i do not have evermead to toast to the your bravery. I see 2 missing from your party; the tel'quessir and artist. I hope nothing horrible has become of them?"

Looking at the rock wall around her, and taking a short sip of water from the skin she carries, Lowantha continues;

"i know very little of this region. I have never been forced into the dark before, and would never enter this place willingly. I agree with you all that we must make haste in getting to our world again. You know of some of my powers, and i am sure that this confuses many of you. Yes, i am able to teleport nearly every day of the year if i so desire. this is not without error however, and in this region i do not trust my powers as much as at home. I can be...intrepid by nature, or foolhardy if asking Tardeth or Sylvanus. If on my own, i would consider risking the teleport out of here. with you, i will not. I have no idea exactly how deep we are, and that alone may affect the spell. More importantly, i know of some evil forces, magical and mundane, which can affect spells. most of those come from the surface, and i can only imagine what works have been created in this forsaken place. I would be terribly upset if any of you were put in harm because of me. It would appear however, one way or another, that is exactly what has happened. Again, you have my profound thanks."

Kenny double posted! (Use the edit button next time, haha!) :-P

Tal's eyes were shut tight, his lids pressed hard against one another, he could feel the pressure from the tension of the thin stretches of skin pushed together. Bringing his left hand up to his face, he began to rub the corners of his eyes. Maybe he would open them and discover he had fallen asleep in Tardeth's sturdy Oaken chair in the N'Maerenthore...

Darkness, save for the brilliant light shining from Moonblaze.

He was wide awake. Great. Taking the glowing sword in his hand, he made motion to sheathe it. As the tip of the blade entered it's holster, T'alev stopped sheathing it. Stalling for a moment he gazed down at his new weapon. With eyes fixed on the blade, Tal heaved a weary sigh and removed the sword tip from the scabbard, holding it aloft.

"That does make fairly comforting light." He muttered, as if agreeing to some one else's unheard statement.

"Selune aide me," T'alev mumbled, "lend me your guile and wisdom to bring me through this trial unharmed so I may see your beauty once more."

Turning to Lowantha, he spoke. "We need to stop getting ourselves into such dangerous situations, my fair Calshite. I may be a roving adventurer, but my place belongs on the surface. While I am utterly out of my element; and my abilities are of little use here; and I may not be able to see so well in this darkness; and my expertise is reserved for entirely different matters, I can guarantee my silver's strength and my undying perseverance until we are delivered from these foul depths...so long as Selune, in her wisdom, sees it fit. For now, I fear I am not yet properly equipped for an excursion through the Underdark."

T'alev stooped down low on bended knee and rummaged through his ruck sack. He immediately began undoing the straps on the familial heirloom gauntlets protecting his forearms. Removing the armour from his arms, he wrapped them carefully in fine, soft, cloth and set them in his bag. The darkness made it more difficult to see the buckles and leather-punched holes, but Tal managed to equip his Hook Horror gauntlets.

"If we are to be trapped in the Underdark, let me brandish my only trophy related to this hell hole. Maybe we can make a few more sets of gauntlets after we escape from here, if we have the good fortune to cross any Hook Horrors."

Standing, Tal gazed at Nelo for a moment. "I thought I was the Ranger here. What fortune you have to make friends with an animal such as that, Shield Wall! Where did you find that beast and why does it follow you so readily?"

Glancing sideways at the silk-robed priest, "Azerian, Master of Beauty, I recall you procuring scrolls prior to us becoming stranded here. Tell me, are those scraps of parchment going to be of any help to our weary group down here?"

"Vorian, we have traveled together for many months now, since you were 18 years of age." Tal chuckles. "If there is one thing I will not permit, it will be letting another loved companion fall to darkness. I let you travel a dangerous road alone once before, you will be well protected this time." Tal attempted to reassure Vorian in his time of doubt, in fact, it was the first time T'alev could recall Vorian being outright pessimistic.

If only he could convince himself of the strength of his own words...

Nelo goes to pet his new friend and looking at Tal says: "This is my new friend, who will be my friend for quite some time. Helm has seen fit to bless me. I hope I can repay this gift and more. I cannot explain any more than that because that is all I know. But I can tell you that I was drawn here for two reasons, killing that demon and finding him (Nelo looks to his companion), and I have accomplished them both, with help from everyone. Now all we must do is meander out of here, not a difficult task. If I were to be stuck in this stinky hovel this company is the best company I can think of. The eye of the Vigilant One is always watching, even here I find solace in this.

I agree with Belril, being in this place throws everything off. Normally I'm very good with directions but down here nothing is of use. Also Belril what would the word for watchful or watcher be?"

Azerian, rummaging through his pouch in the darkness for quite some time, finally locates his Box of Light.
"There you are! Much bett--" he interrupts himself as he sees his surroundings in better light, "Well, at least it's brighter. Clearly Sune is not a heavy influence here." In the light, he sees Lowantha, and adds, "At least there is one nice thing I can look at. An oasis of beauty in this desert of filth."

Perking up upon T'alev's statement, "Ah, I had forgotten about those scrolls!" Azerian quickly brings the scrolls out and studies them. His excitement quickly turns to confusion, then to concern, as he reads.

"This can't be right. These can't be the same scrolls held by a goblin." He looks again through his pouch, "I see. There are some interesting spells here. Seven, to be exact. Many of these are beyond even me, let alone a goblin. This only reinforces the explanation that they had a much, much more powerful influence. Hopefully this isn't something unrelated to our daemon friends here."

He shakes his head and looks back at the scrolls, "As for our immediate concerns, I'm afraid these wont offer much help. Communicating with the dead... breathing water... walking on water... a few others, most of which aren't within my ability. I'm afraid the best I can do for now is offer first-aid for anyone in need. Perhaps we should find somewhere remote and hidden nearby to get some rest before we risk venturing anywhere."

"'tir' or possibly 'tirin' would be elvish words for watcher. Vigilant Watcher would be Thatirin most likely."

Belril turns to answer Lowantha, "the Tel'quess is no longer amongst the living. Jharri put a bounty on his head for the insults he offered him and someone collected. The practitioner should still be well to my knowledge, he is on his way North on a personal matter."

Turning away briefly Belril whispers a prayer to Tymora, thanking her for the lucky blow that struck the head from the Naga. "Well, we are a long way from home, and we're not equipped for staying down here. But on the bright side, we are all yet alive. And I mean to stay that way." Belril's gaze scans the room, looking for anything useful, but finding very little. "Nelo, you said there were Drow holding that buffalo of yours. Any ideas how well equipped they might have been?"

Nelo looks up from tending to his Buffalo "Never exchanged pleasantries with them Belril. But they had swords and armor." With a smirk Nelo looks back to the area he came from.

"I do not exactly know where they are because the just appeared and started swinging at me. I did cut most of their cattle free and I'm sure that angered them. They are somewhere near those cattle but I can't tell exactly where or how many. We should be very careful."

(I doubt Kenny would let us fight anything in a forum-esque fashion, though that would be a cool narrative.)

The mere mention of Drow immediately snagged Tal's attention.

"Drow? Of course, here, in the Underdark..." Tal shifted his weapon in his hand, preparing himself for a possible ambush. He didn't want to be caught off guard. "Should we come under attack from them, I'll do my best to keep them away from those of you who do not currently have the strength to fight in protracted combat."

With Moonblaze's power being added to his own, T'alev was fairly confident in his capability to strike down anyone foolish enough to assault them.

"I don't know how much there is to worry about. I only ran into 2 of them. I feel like if there was more they would have come out to try and stop us from getting away. Of course they most likely have more friends somewhere but in this general vicinity I think we can breathe a little easier. That is not to say we should put our guard down but perhaps our swords."

"If Tymora smiles on us they'll be too busy trying to track their cattle down to worry about where you went Nelo. They're slippery devils Drow, reflexes as fast as thought and they can see in the dark better than any other elf alive. We'll have to handle them soon, before they can inform any other Drow that may be about."

Belril scans the room, evaluating it's defensive capacity, noting the size of entryways and relative locations. "Light is a strange resource down here, it lets us see others, but it also paints a target. Torches, fires magical light, they can't be common, anything that sees them will know there is something that doesn't belong down here. Some of them might be afraid, others might be drawn in, realizing we don't belong and that we could be easily dispatched if we lost our light. I'll plan to take a watch whenever we rest, my eyes aren't a match for a drow in this dark, but I've got better than the rest of us."

Edit: fixed a little error aaron pointed out.

We'll either have to handle them soon... or?

Poking fun at your statement, not an actual post. you can edit your posts.