TOTD Turn Five- Exile pt.4

Considering the groups discussions, it seems that it would be too risky for Jarkeena to blast a hole in the ceiling, it becomes apparent that the only option the group now has is to move forward. The scarred woman turns to the Yathrinshee, bowing her head low. "Forgive my insistence Yathrinshee of Kiaransalee, but it was the mechanical traps I was concerned about- I was aware that you indicated no enchantments on the door previously." She turns to the others. "It seems that once Gareett has tried to destroy the wall of bone, our only option is to advance through the door. As such, I suggest that myself and one other move forward to scout what lies beyond - there is no use in placing us all in danger - we will attempt to identify any threats in the immediate vicinity and then return for the rest of you. We will not be too far in front, but far enough that, should any harm come to us, you may be sufficiently far enough behind not to be affected. If any of you has any other ideas, speak now, otherwise I need a volunteer to go ahead with me." Gareett steps up to Vol and signs, *I volunteer.*

Qilteral puts the steel dart into her belt pouches. "These are not poisonous." She listens to everybodys ideas. "I do not have the spell to detect traps. But I will look for physical traps to see if any are present. If somebody has that spell I will gladly learn it, to use it for the better of our survival."

Olerathiel looks at Qilteral with a stern look. *You should have paid more attention to your lessons at the temple. A priestess barely above an acolyte knows how to cast that spell,* she signs scornfully.

Qilteral signs back, *The spells in which I choose have nothing to do with skill or power of an acolyte. I choose not to ask our most Unholy of Goddesses for that spell. You should be careful before you are so quick to blame. I choose to strengthen my power in other fields.*

Olerathiel sighs grimly, then backhands the younger cleric. *Then do not say you do not know the spell, _cleric_, for all clergy members do. Now, enough bickering. There might be more traps, and you have people to heal.* She scowls, marking the traps she sees, before they fade, so that the others might know where they are, then goes with Volgath.

As the group tends to the wounded, Gareett turns to the wall and weaves his hands through the gestures needed to invoke the spell while his mouth pronounces each syllable precisely. A green glow starts at the center of the wall and flows outward slowly at first but increasing with speed till the whole thing glows with a eerie green light. As the last of the words slip from his lip a loud popping sound echoes up the stair well as the wall itself grows smaller in size till it is half as tall and wide as it was before, in moments Zaltars face is seen looking over it. He calls Chesir back to him and explains that he will need aid getting Seth, Slaveriin and himself over the wall.

In this time Thiel summons her own power to detect traps and notices the door bears three separate traps on it while four steps up from Carafnir there is a second one. She reports this to Vol who calls for volunteers, the male drow Carafnir speaks up and falls in next to the women as they ascend the steps with Thiel following behind pointing out traps so the pair can step over them. As the reach the next floor of the tower they are find it is or was some sort of study. The remains of furniture lies around the room having long decayed. Rich rugs once covered the floor but are now nothing more then mold, all the remains in tact in the circular room is a book case bearing one row of books, a single chest and a high backed chair with a stool. The stairs keep going up on the far side of the room.

Gracefully avoiding the traps pointed out by the Yathrinshee, Melrinthy moves along the wall towards the bookshelf, attempting to read the titles of any of the volumes. She signals in the silent language, *Yathrinshee, Deathmistress, pardon my interruption, but I request that we first use the power on the chest, in case it is trapped, to avoid endangering one of the males needlessly.*

*There are no traps anywhere in this room,* says Olerathiel silently.

Upon hearing that no traps were detected, and nodding to Thiel, Melrinthy begins examining the bookcase. She moves onto the chest, looking over her shoulder at Zaltar.

Moving with trepidation past the traps as pointed out by the Yathrinshee, Volgath looks carefully at the study, noting the state of decay the room appears to be in. Turning to the Yathrinshee, she speaks quickly in the silent tongue, *Yathrinshee, perhaps the others could search this room while you myself and Carafnir continue on ahead while your spell lasts. If you deem this room safe, then the group on the stairs can begin to search here while we move on further ahead?*

Thiel nods. *We must hurry. I do not believe that my spell will last much longer, however I will be able to cast it at least one more time,* she signs to the Deathmistress.

Chesir rushes back and helps Zaltar. He picks up the small necromancer and carries her over his shoulder unceremoniously. Once Sethoroth is safe, he returns to his commanders side. Only slightly injured, Chesir guards the rear until both groups are reunited. Then he seeks out Qilteral in order to watch out for her.

Not being able to take point, with the presence of traps and not mentioned in the delegation of orders, Evilyn busies herself with maintaining the security of the patrols main body. Moving only in places that the others have stepped and touched, Evilyn tries to take a position from which she can watch the rooms exits and leave her back protected by a wall and Razarks attention. Once in position, she waits with her mundane crossbow and sword at held at the ready. *Since your prayer will not last forever, can you mark the traps you find, as you see them. That way we can make a hasty withdrawal if necessary and not kill ourselves.*

Zal'tar smiles at the young women and flashes in the silent code, *Caraf'nir, mark the traps for us.*

Vol looks over to the others as they enter the study room. *The Yathrinshee has detected no traps in this area, including the chest. Gareett you are in charge of leading the search in this room until the patrol Commander arrives- try and find out who we are dealing with and other useful information. Perhaps there is a layout of this accursed tower lying here somewhere. The Yathrinshee, myself and Carafnir will move on ahead to search for further traps for the duration of the Yathrinshees spell. We will return as soon as we are finished. May Kiaransalee aid your tasks.* So saying, Vol leaves the room awaiting Carafnir and the Yathrinshee, moving cautiously to avoid and traps.

The books are all written in some unknown language. The chest however is crafted of smooth oak and has a single latch holding it shut. It is unlocked and slightly ajar.

Gareett nods his acceptance and moves over to Melrinthy and signs, *Careful with that chest, a creature inside would not register as a trap.* With that said Gareett turns to the others still in the room. *Search the walls for any hidden doors or other surprises.* He then moves over to the bookshelf and starts taking books off of the shelf and looking through them for loose papers or diagrams of any kind, being none too gentle to the books in the process, but being neat and quiet. Once the bookshelf is empty, he starts checking it for secrets as well.

Kneeling near the chest, Melrinthy visibly bridles after being instructed that it could be dangerous by Gareett. Regaining her composure she signals, *I know it could still be dangerous. Watch, and aid me if there is trouble.* Stepping back, she draws her shortsword and attempts to lift the lid with the weapon.

As Volgath, Thiel and Carafnir ascend the stairs, Gareett begins to ascertain the value of the books. Melrinthy opens the chest using her dagger. As the lid pops open, the coiled up skeletal remains of a large snake springs upward from the chest. Letting out a shriek of terror, the woman stumbles backwards and falls onto her butt. People have little precious time to take this in as a door silently opens outward from the stairs and spills forth three figures. The lower half of each is that of a giant snake, while the upper half is the body of an extremely beautiful human woman, but they bear six arms, each one holding a deadly weapon. The pale trio silently moves into the room and prepare to dispatch the intruders.

Chesir outlines the nearest one in faerie fire, shoots a crossbow at it if he has time, and then stands between it and the female drow, his melee weapons ready.

Gareett says loudly and calmly, "Aggressors. Three half snakes with six arms, one skeletal snake." Reaching into a pouch at his side he takes a handful of sand and moves towards the three half snakes. "Red, yellow, blue. These colors I give to you." So saying he takes a blows the sand from his hand at the aggressors. Gareett the pulls a wand from his belt and backs to Melrinthy to help her up if she is still on the ground.

The Yathrinshees spell detects no less than four more traps, each one marked by Carafnir, and are carefully bypassed. After cresting the top stair, the small group enters yet another room. This one appears much as the one below, except that it has been converted into a bedroom. A large four poster bed occupies most of the room, while a massive armoire, writing desk, and another bookcase occupies the rest. The one difference is this bookcase is stacked full of books, scrolls, and sheets of paper. The heavy scents of various perfumes hang in the air, and the lip of an inset bathtub can be made out barely under the bed. The stairs circle up on the other side of the room as before.

As Vol enters the chamber, the pervasive smell of perfume invades her senses, studying the chamber she can see that this obviously is the private chambers of the towers owner. Looking carefully around, she moves to the bed to see if the covers indicate signs of use. As the Yathrinshee moves around to detect for traps in the area, Vols concentration is broken by Gareetts voice from below raising the alarm- turning to the Yathrinshee and Carafnir she speaks quickly in the silent tongue. *It appears that those below have triggered a different kind of trap.* As the scarred woman begins to move cautiously back down, avoiding the marked traps she signals again. *Beware our backs! Should reinforcements be summoned, we will be trapped between 2 enemies.*

As Vol starts back down the stairs, followed by Thiel, a startled oath echoes behind them from Carafnir, accompanied by a thud. Spinning back around, they see the forms of four what appear to be drider in the room, one of which has lassoed Carafnirs feet together. With the nimble skill of a cat, Carafnir slices the rope and jumps to his feet. "Help the others. I can deal with the likes of these." With that he dashes in low, Onyx following in close. Thiel gives a snort of amusement. "With your poor track record? Forgive me for my doubts." She closes in to one of the creatures, mace ready to strike. The pair quickly lose sight of Carafnir and his dog in a host of stabbing legs. One of the creatures laughs harshly as it watches Thiels mace careen into its body. Its laugh turns to a scream of horror and pain as the demure elven face on the mace contorts into that of sheer evil. Its mouth splits wide, revealing a gaping, fang filled maw that tears into the creatures body, ripping a fair chunk out. Not a single drop of blood or flesh hits the ground. Spotting the real danger behind her, Vol is torn on where to go, but quickly decides that the Yathrinshee is her prime duty, and sends a magic missile burrowing into the creature attacking Thiel.

Downstairs, smiling a thank you at Gareett, Melrinthy accepts a hand up and moves behind the head necromancer, points at the lead snake-bodied woman, and yells "Shirak!" as a blue bolt flies from her hand striking the creature. Qilteral also fires a magic missile.

The words of magic ring out through the room as glowing bolts of energy streak through the air to strike the lead creature in the chest. The creature lurches to the side, one of its arms falling limp to its side, burned beyond recognition. The wicked longsword it was wielding falls to the floor. Before the creature can react, though, a cone of color sprays out from Gareetts hands, washing over it and robbing it of its vision. The creature off to its immediate right is suddenly surrounded by purple flames. A crooked smile crosses Zaltars lips. "Slaveriin, Chesir, surround the one that hasnt been touched. We will hack it down. The rest of you occupy the flaming one. Jarkeena, you and Sethoroth attempt to push the other one down the stairs." However, the creatures will not yield so easily. The one that the warriors rush slashes out with its weapons, however, thanks to years of drow training, the males easily deflect all attacks except for one, which slides in under Slaveriins guard and tears a wicked gash into his hips. The other creature slides in, swinging madly at Evilyn and Qilteral and missing horribly, digging deep furrows into the walls and steps. The other creature blindly slides around, slashing futilely. Its tail smashes into the chest, sending it through the air, where it crashes into the wall, spilling the contents everywhere. A rain of glass vials tinkle through the air, remarkably, they remain intact. The creature manages to score a lucky hit, her wickedly barbed whip encircling the young acolytes throat, puncturing it in a number of places. There is a slight hiss as of air had just escaped a tomb sealed for centuries. The shimmering black energy that once coated the whip is no more as the young woman drains the enchantment.

Chesir attacks his assigned victim with determination, swinging both of his longswords. "Youre going to pay for my orcs, for my comrades wounds, and for anything else I can think of."

One hand unconsciously slipping down to the slash across his hips, Slaveriin smile turns more grim, with a flick of his wrist is longsword snakes out trying to pass the weaving swords for the creatures neck. After his attack, he quickly drops to one knee bringing his sword with him presenting less of target for the many jagged blades wield against him, seeking to disarm one of the incoming strikes.

Qilteral ducks-dodges, spins and flips avoiding the attacks...slashing out with her dagger at key moments: aiming for tendons---muscles---and places were the bone is showing or available. She also slashes out at the whip, attempting to slice it off, then rushes Slaveriin and casts Cure Light Wounds.

Jarkeena decides not to run her unarmored form up to the flailing blinded creature with many swords. "UMMMMM, VOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!" she gurgles a bit. "THATS IT!" Jarkeena gurgles, as she removes the barbed whip from her throat. "I have had ENOUGH of YOU!" as she channels a burst of flame from her hand at the creature stupid enough to strike a cleric.

Silently cursing the warriors for engaging the demons in hand to hand combat before she could ensnare the creatures with a Web, Melrinthy mutters in a harsh tone, "Gul Dukat," and raises her left hand, splay fingered over her head as a ghostly white hand appears over the snake-woman outlined by the faerie fire.

Gareett calmly watches the battle and points his wand at the demon that has been surrounded by the partys adept fighters, activating it.

As the battle rages on in the second tier of the tower, the band of drow begin to wonder if they will survive this fight. For the young acolyte Jarkeena throws out her hands sending a wave of white hot flame washing over the foul beast that assaulted her. Shrieking in pain, the thing plummets backwards towards the steps. Lashing out blindly in an attempt to halt her descent the thing grabs a fistful of Seths cloak; the wounded necromancer can do nothing but scream as she too is jerked down the steps to her death. Evilyn, sensing this leaps, for her trying to catch some part of the women. She snags her belt but the leather simply gives way and the two vanish into the darkness.

Meanwhile Melrinthy casts her spell and brings a giant sized ghostly hand into being. Gareett levels his wand and barks out the command word. A beam of sickly green light leaps out to strike the monster that the bands warriors has engaged in her naked chest. With a howl of rage the half-woman, half-snake begins to grow rigid and ceases to move altogether. This leaves one beast up and the warriors extend to put her down. Dropping low, Slaveriin stabs upward, hoping to score a hit, which he does. The weapon drives in deep and he is sprayed with black ichor. Using this chance to strike, Chesir leaps in and slashes his swords down in a x pattern opening two grisly wounds on the monsters scaly tail. Zaltar thrust in with his weapon and manages to score a minor hit on her left breast. Angered beyond all thought the woman strikes back. She brings one blade down at Slaveriin, who brings his own up to counter. The two weapons connect at the base of the hilts and shatter into a thousand glowing pieces. Blue and black sparks arc from the destroyed weapons as the magic that was bound into them is released. She stabs a second blade in at the warrior. Throwing his arm wide the, swords keen edge slides along his ribs. However when the womans hand slides up, he snaps his arm down and twist around sharply. The sound of snapping bone is heard and the weapon drops from her lifeless hand. Chesir fairs about in his conflict, he manages to turn aside one blade but the other slips pass his defense and tears open the flesh on his right arm from wrist to elbow. Zaltar, seeing this, moves into help the injured fighter but is forced back as two blades dive at his head. Holding his halberd length wise he catches both, but his opponents sheer strength forces all three weapons down and into the mans face, tearing open his forehead and cheek and drives him to the ground. At this time Qilteral has jumped down next to Slaveriin and grabbed the torn flesh on his leg and pulled it together. Calling on her dark patron to heal the wound, black flames spring to life and the cold of the grave seeps into his bones, but the wound stops bleeding and seals somewhat. This minor victory is soon dashed as the cleric is caught off guard by the thing snake like tail that wraps around her body and begins to squeeze the very life from her

Chesir tries to grit his teeth and ignore the pain in his right arm, as he did with the dart earlier. He fails, and his sword clatters to the floor. With eyes flashing menacingly even though he doesnt feel particularly dangerous right now, Chesir sets to work with his left-hand sword, trying to hack Qilteral free. As he moves in, he tries to kick his dropped sword towards Slaveriin.

Leaving her crossbow at her belt, Evilyn gives few further thoughts to the pair as they are lost down the stairs, instead she draws a second length of dark elven blade to join the engagement against the serpent woman. With long strides and her senses on fire, Evilyn carefully enters the combat. Watching and waiting for those already engaged to draw its attention and allow a smooth path to the creatures back.

With a low run and either blade held in the defense before her, Evilyn closes in with alternating strikes, leading with the Eldritch laced weapon and following with the drow blade. Both strikes are timed with Chesirs as she too aims at the base of the creatures spine, to free the coiled priestess.

Gareett, seeing a priestess in trouble, begins to show emotion for the first time. Moving over to the paralyzed demon Gareett plunges his dagger into the demons eye and yells, "Release her now DEMON! A worse fate awaits you if you do not yield!" With one hand remaining on the dagger and the other leveling the wand at the still moving demon, Gareett stands motionless, staring at the demon, mouthing the activation word of the wand silently, over and over.

Seeing Seth pulled to her death, Melrinthys mouth sets in a grim line. The pair had trained together and the young necromancer deserved better than becoming demon fodder. Lest the same fate befall her, Melrinthy murmured another incantation and gestured with her right hand. The ghostly claw she had previously created was now charged with electric light, and she motioned the claw to grasp the monster choking Qilteral in an attempt to induce it to release the priestess.

Qilteral, trying to stay calm and think clearly, attempts to grab her dagger and slash away while blowing all the air from her lungs while bringing her arms in, making herself as small as possible. The priestess continues hoping to slip through or that with her small frame, hoping that the muscles wouldnt be able to contract any further. In her head, she even calls out to her goddess for help.

Back upstairs, though surprised, Thiel manages not to show it, instead smiling wickedly. "Would you like more missing chunks of flesh, or would you like to die quickly? Join your Goddess!" she states, first making sure the creature in front of her dies, then moving to the others. She laughs sardonically, delighting in the carnage and wondering how well they would perform in her undead army. "And you said you didnt need us, Carafnir."

As Vol casts her spell and moves back to protect the Yathrinshee, she becomes perplexed at the lack of blood from the creature as Thiels mace strikes the creatures flesh. Calling out as she warily moves between the creatures she speaks quickly, "Revered Yathrinshee, I believe these creatures to be illusions, my bloodsense does not pick out the tell-tale smell of ichor which should be splattered on the floor nor can I tell the smell of the drider forms. I believe that these creatures are shadow forms and not corporeal."

As she uses her senses, Vol soon realizes that there is the smell of blood over from where Caraf'nir is but not around her or Thiel, and that the beast has a gaping hole in its side. Calling to the Yathrinshee and Carafnir Vol suggests to her fighting companions, "Let us try and maneuver down the stairs, that way these creatures may only be able to attack one at a time because of their size. We will protect the Yathrinshee so that she can aid those whom have been attacked down below." Vol looks towards the two for a reply, frantically try to avoid the attacks of the creatures.

Thiel only nods, inching her way back while she attack furiously with her mace at the creature in front of her to kill it before turning her attentions to the others. However, it is clear that she does not intend to head downstairs until the battle is over, for she merely presses her back against the wall closest to the door so that nothing can attack her from behind. Vol moves in to attack with her, allowing her a safe retreat.

Backing up Thiel puts her back to the wall as Vol falls back as well and utters the words to enchant her Deathclaw, which takes on a unearthly blue glow. The beast that Thiel first struck roars out in anger and it charges her along with one of its friends, as they get closer the two women realize that the upper bodies are not those of dark elves but ogres. The wounded monster smashes his massive bone club down at the cleric as its companion does the same to Vol, however in their gusto the two smash only the wall and rain down rock on the two women. Laughing evilly the women strike out. Thiels mace bites deeply into the beast again, this time letting out a howl of sheer pleasure. Vol stabs straight out with her wicked weapon, the foul beast stumbles back but that is the first of its errors as the blades from her weapon catches its leg at the joint and pop it off with a sickening pop. Sounds of battle, along with the loud barking of Onyx, rings out on the far side of the battle. The two monsters seem less inclined to keep up the fight and start to skitter back, but the pair of evil drow wont allow them and press the attack. Thiels mace rises and falls several more times before the beast crumples to the ground on her last strike. But the mace becomes lodged into place- no matter of pulling can free it. However the young woman does not come out of the fight unscathed, for she bears several minor cuts and bruises. Meanwhile Vol slashes the huge spider thing repeatedly, each time leaving the wounds covered in a slight frost. The dying beast stumbles once but manages to bring its massive weapon down on the slight drow. The sound of crunching bone rings out as the stone weapon crashes into Vols left shoulder, shattering her arm. The woman hits the ground just as her opponent does. A moment later, a gore stained and limping Carafnir makes his way over to the spot the two beasts he and Onyx took on are not moving. The black dog is no where to be seen.

"Nice job," the Yathrinshee compliments to those in her party. "I will raise these, and then we can go down and help the others, and then get some healing done for you two." She seems to disregard the fact that she herself is injured. She tries to pull out her mace, but finds she cant, as it is too busy feeding. "Hmmm," she frowns, then goes about calling on her ability to raise as soon as she can retrieve her mace, not sure how it would react to her casting the spell then retrieving it. Before she does, though, she makes sure the other two know of her plans. "As soon as we help end the battle downstairs, Im going to ask Zaltar permission to challenge the necromancer. It is obvious that she is more powerful than us, and we will not be able to kill her. Besides, she is far more valuable to us and Kiaransalee alive, as we can get more information on how shes doing all this. Am I understood?" Its clear that shes invoking her authority as a Yathrinshee on this one. "Volgath, Ill need you to make sure that Zaltar orders the others to not interfere, since you are second in command." She shoots a quick smile at Carafnir, so that he knows she is well pleased by his actions.

Carafnir nods and reaches into his pouch and pulls out a vial filled with some black liquid. "Drink this, Volgath. It will ease your pain and mend some of your bones."

Holding her head up, Carafnir pours the potion down Volgaths throat. The foul taste makes her gag, and nearly spit it back up, but Carafnir clamps her mouth shut and forces her to swallow it. In minutes, Vol can feel her bones setting themselves, but not completely healing. Spinning around, her eyes glowing with fanatical glee, Thiel, barely able to contain her excitement, cries out for the blessings of the dark goddess to give unlife to those that have fought here. Two of the creatures stand up on the chitineous legs, their flesh sloughing off to leave gleaming white bones, and their insides leak out to dissolve in the air. Thiel gestures to her downed companions. "Carry them." Obeying, the creatures gently pick up both of the wounded drow and follow their new mistress downstairs.

Dashing around the melee, Gareett converges upon the immobile creature and plunges his dagger into its eye, slaying it instantly. Everyone else, drawing weapons and casting spells, converge on the single creature left. Snatching up the offered weapon, Slaveriin readies himself to attack, while the creature easily deflects Chesir and Evilyns weapons. Meanwhile, the spectral hand floats down and touches the creatures bulging tail, sending an electrical current flowing through it. Zaltar futilely tries to wipe the blood from his eyes, and force back the darkness that threatens to enclose him. Qilteral, struggling for her dagger, feels the creatures coils grow even tighter on her. Lashing out in blind fury at its aggressors, Chesir and Evilyn quickly disarm it of tow of its weapons and press their attack. Slaveriin slips in under the creatures guard, and slides his arm into one of its armpits. Working together, Chesir and Evilyn manage to score two viscous wounds on the serpentine body. However, still looking ready to fight, the creature suddenly ceases to move as a beam of green energy lances from Gareetts wand to freeze it in its place. Working quickly, the fighters hack the tail apart and drag the half-dead woman from its coils. Its during this last assault that the group learns that these creatures were pieced together. The upper female half has been sewn to the snake body, as have four of the six arms.

Moments later, Thiel comes flouncing down the stairs, followed by the skeletal forms of what appear to be two drider forms with the upper skeletons of ogres. Cradled lovingly in their arms are the battered forms of Volgath and Carafnir. As the womans foot touches the last step, the skeletal snake that sprung out of the chest makes its way across the floor, crawls up the womans legs, and wraps lovingly around her neck like a pet. Snatching up one of the vials that fell from the chest, Melrinthy determines it to be some sort of healing potion, and that some thirty-six vials had spilled from it; miraculously, none were destroyed.

Thiel smiles at the skeletal snake, then notes with concern the state of the party. She moves over to Zaltar, and speaks to him in the silent language of the drow, hiding the movements of her fingers with her body. *Commander, we are approaching this all wrong. There is no way that we will be able to defeat the necromancer of this tower. She is far too powerful. I would like permission to offer a challenge of sorts, to get her to come down her that I might _speak_ with her. I believe that it would be far more beneficial to us if we took that approach, especially since those who use our Goddesss abilities would be able to learn from her how to create these marvelous creations. I believe that it would pique her interest, and that way we would not set off more traps trying to find her. If this is acceptable, I will need you to order the others to obey what I tell them, and that unless I command it, nobody is to draw weapons. I am afraid that if that happens, we will all be called to Kiaransalee far too soon.* She looks at him expectantly, hoping that he will agree with her proposal.

Melrinthy, ignorant of the exchange between Thiel and Zaltar, approaches the former and bows respectfully. "Yathrinshee, it appears that we have an overabundance of healing draughts - thirty six, in fact. Shall I distribute them to the injured? Moreover, it appears that these demons are just constructs, not the feared Marilith from the Abyss. Whatever deliciously foul magicks our adversary may possess, it appears that Summoning is not one of them." The ghostly claw floats behind the sorceress as she steps away, awaiting the priestess reply.

Thiel turns around briefly. "Healing potions? Yes, distribute them!" she says. "Zaltar, however, gets one first," she says, noting his grave condition. "But warning, do not underestimate our adversary. Weve already paid for doing that once." She looks around. "Wheres Sethoroth?" she asks curiously. "She wasnt foolish and decided to investigate more on her own, was she?"

"S-slain, Yathrinshee," Mel stammers, unwilling to be the bearer of bad tidings. The necromancer immediately turns and offers a potion to Zaltar.

The blinded warrior gropes for the potion. He fumbles with the cork until Thiel jerks it from his hands and does it for him. He downs the liquid in one gulp and leans against the wall, breathing regularly. "Pass them to the others. We are drow. We dont deal from a weak position."

Noting that Zaltar appears to cannot see, the Yathrinshee repeats her words in whispers. Blinded by the blood that has flown into his eyes, the warrior whispers in a hushed voice, "I allowed myself to be blinded by a warriors pride. Only a drow could be capable of such treachery and deceit as this. I will lose no more warriors. Call to her. But do not let us get a bad deal in this. I want to return with something for my Matron Mother."

"I thank you for your trust in me, commander," says the Yathrinshee. She turns to the others. "Get yourselves cleaned up as best as possible, please. Qilteral will bandage you." She apparently doesnt notice that Qilteral is still lying limply on the floor. "The commander has given me permission to try a new tactic. I may say some things that might seem unusual. Please, do not appear to be too startled. Anyhow, whatever happens, do not draw weapons or cast spells unless I say something. Any questions?"

Jarkeena pipes up. "First we should save the potions for when we NEED them, right now we still have spells to heal with. Second if someone would be so kind as to go and get Seths body, I will gladly ask Kiaransalee for her soul back to aid us further in this tower. And third, _WE_ are not in a weak position. What happened to Vol?"

"No," snaps Zaltar. "We heal what we can with the potions, as we may yet have need of the clerics magic. If things dont go as planed we could end up in another fight."

Chesir grins at Slaveriin and Evilyn, congratulating them and himself. Then he sheaths his enchanted longsword and picks up one of the slain enemys longswords. Listening to Melrinthy talk, he learns the potions will heal him, so he moves to the chest and picks up two potions. Chesir then waits for someone else to drink before he follows suit. "Well, were quite a way up the tower and weve only lost one. Shall we continue as soon as possible? I want to gut this wizard. Everything so far is only a down-payment for my three stolen orcs."

Zaltar fumbles for his halberd, grasping it in both hands. He forces himself to his feet. Leaning heavily on his weapon, he slowly makes his way across the room to Chesir. "We have lost one female. One female necromancer," he hisses. "Her worth outweighs you, me, and _all_ males in this group. Would you endanger the other females? Would you endanger the Yathrinshees life?" he growls out. "And for the record, weve lost two. I would like to see her blood smeared across my blade as much as you, but that will only happen if she allows it. Look at what came down with Thiel. Do you think they simply surrendered their life? How many more floors exist? How many more traps? How many more abominations? If we go on, it is with you leading."

Melrinthy smiles darkly at Zaltars rebuke to the arrogant male who downplayed Seths death, then stood behind her combat-mate, awaiting the Yathrinshees next move.

Gareett takes a potion over to Qilteral. He checks to ensure that she is still living, he then props her head up and begins to slowly feed her a potion, watching to make sure he does go to fast and cause her to choke. "There are no questions. Your wisdom will undoubtedly lead us to victory." Gareett then waits to make sure Qilteral is ready to move.

Looking a little grim at the state the patrol is in, Slaveriin searches amongst the scattered blades that were held by the strange female/snake creature seeking one that is roughly the same weight and balance as what he is used to. As he bends to examine the first blade he stands even faster with a momentary grimace, and heads towards the scattered healing potions.

Nodding at the command of the Yathrinshee, Slaveriin quickly finds a blade. Keeping it close, he moves closer to Gareett and Qilteral, waiting to see what the Yathrinshee has planned.

Chesir salutes Zaltar and shows no emotion at the rebuke. "I meant no offense to Seths memory. In ShaurakHai, when a member is lost, it is just the loss of one person. We dont fall apart if it happens to be a female, and we certainly dont discourage the males from wanting to contribute."

"But perhaps that is not the way it is done elsewhere in the city, not that we are in the city anymore, of course. If I am a mere second-class member of the party as you say, I wont argue further, and I will take point if that is your order."

Ever the proud soldier, Chesir gulps down one potion, then another if he is still injured. Since his new longsword wont fit in his scabbard, he first looks for a baldric on the dead monsters in hopes of taking it and hanging the sword from that. If there isnt one, he simply tucks the sword behind his belt for now. He says nothing more to anyone, but looks everyone who is watching right in the eye, unashamed. He stands near the door waiting to see what his betters decide to do, hoping they plan quickly.

Jarkeena walks over and kneels next to the Priestess laying on the floor and checks for a pulse. "Any of the weapons no one is going to use, please bring to me. Thank you." Then she hears Chesirs words. She stops what she was doing, reaches into her pouch and pulls out a handful of gold and platinum coins. She tosses them with the care of money that bill gates child might show to Chesirs feet. "There, now they are _MY_ orcs and you can shut up about the stinking creatures, and get on with your life."

Chesir lets the coins clatter to the ground at his feet and makes no move to retrieve them. Looking at Jarkeena as if she were a bug, he says, "I am sure some members of the party would consider it bad form for me to say that you would be the last person who should say something about too much complaining, so I wont say it. Likewise, I will also be respectful enough to refrain from telling the honored acolyte where she can stick her damned money. I am, after all, resolved to not argue with anyone anymore." The male smiles defiantly and somewhat evilly, fully expecting to be punished or even killed, but not caring anymore.

In the last few days, hes been insulted, repeatedly told that he is of little consequence, been constantly countermanded in his assigned duties as organizer of the partys camp defenses. And his best friend in the party, Solomoriah, has died with no attempt being made to save him. To Chesir, this clearly illustrates what he can expect in the future, and he has reached a point where his pride demands he at least speak out once before he is killed by the arrogance of some drow who thinks his gender makes him worthless.

"I recall someone in my past having an attitude similar to yours. OH YES. Thats right!" she says after a thoughtful pause. "It was a member of the 9^th column, right before his public execution. My sister was _SO_ moved by his speech that she spared him. Yep, he didnt die that day but instead was disemboweled, quartered, and then healed and hangs on the wall in the den in one of the dart rooms in the training section of our house barracks. He makes a really good dart board, and is also good practice for acolytes. His eyes are shielded, since his eyelids were cut off so that he can see every dart thrown at him. My sister thinks that another six years on the wall, bringing his total to nine, 9^th column and all, should allow him to see the error of his ways and pass peacefully on to Kiaransalees realm. Youd be amazed at how much effort a Priestess is willing to go through to send a message to males who dont know their place. You are not worthless, or useless. And you are better then the grubby little orcs, goblins, kobolds, and other... things that serve us. If your companion hadnt already been animated by the owner of this tower, then I would have asked Kiaransalee to bring him back. Unfortunately once his body was animated his soul could no longer go back to it. That is why it is important to get Seths body before it too gets animated." She walks over to him, and puts her hand, comfortingly, on his shoulder. "I _DO_ care about what happens to you, and I _DO_ understand that you are upset about your pets, however thinking with your sword arm rather then your brain will cause problems as will not thinking and just letting your mouth blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. that is why the females lead. We think, then speak, or think, then act. We control our lives rather then let our emotion control it for us. You should take Gareett for example. For most of the fight he was a calm collected efficient combatant. I did show emotion, but it was still controlled and guided. Now that we have had this little talk, I trust you understand that we dont think _down_ on you. But we do A: expect you to do your job, and if someone tells you otherwise, politely bring it up, as is the case about the camp defenses, etc., and B: expect you to show us the respect that is due to our station as the leaders in society. I hope we can all be friends again. And," her voice becomes icy hot, like a burning from something being far too cold. Her eyes lock straight into his, "I do hope that we NEVER need to discuss this again." She stands there for a moment more not expecting any response other then maybe a slight nod, and goes back to what she was doing as if nothing happened.

Still recovering from the attacks of the ogre/drider constructs, Volgath listens with growing agitation to the undisciplined banter that has been going on within the group, especially the discussion between the warrior Chesir and the young acolyte Jarkeena. Finally, the scarred woman decides to intervene. Calling the whole group together, her eyes blazing with hellfire, she decides to allocate tasks as the Yathrinshee prepares for her challenge. "Enough of your bickering I say! Remember who you are and keep your differences to yourselves for now. It is only by the grace of Kiaransalee that we have managed to avoid serious defeat at the hands of this necromancer- she is truly an adversary worthy of the name and Ill not have her gloating at the lack of discipline which we are showing. Firstly, the Patrol Commanders sight seems to have been seriously impaired. I ask the priestess Qilteral to see what can be done to restore his eyesight; secondly Chesir, as I put you in charge of defenses, I want you to ascertain our position here and in the floor above in case we are attacked while the Yathrinshee prepares for her challenge. Evilyn work WITH Chesir on this task and secure our position. Slaveriin, I see you are already collecting usable weapons- collect what you can and make an inventory of what we have left. Gareett see what you and the other mages can find in the bookshelves above and below. We have already marked the traps in the room above but you may find something useful. Myself and Jarkeena will retrieve the body of Seth, noble of the drow, and prepare her for her passing. Any questions? If not go forth and do your tasks- Ill not have any talk of congratulation or insubordination; keep your minds concentrated on the tasks at hand."

Then turning to the blinded Patrol Commander she speaks to Zaltar slowly. "Commander, if you have any further orders then I will carry them forward. Otherwise, we prepare for the Yathrinshees challenge."

"Silence!" hisses Olerathiel to Chesir and Jarkeena. "Or I will kill you both for irritating me!" Her eyes flash red, and swaying from loss of blood, she downs two potions. "We are drow, yet we bicker like surface creatures. You will shut up, or I will place a silence spell upon you. Do I make myself clear?" She glares balefully around the room. "You go too far, Chesir. Skilled warriors you and Solomoriah both were. Kiaransalee did not will that he be resurrected. You are earning yourself the chance to be resurrected in a different manner. Do not forget, while males have more lenience, you must always submit to a woman, especially one of the clergy! Now, I will deal with your impertinence later. When I speak to the necromancer, Volgath, if any of them draw weapons, incapacitate them for the time being. Else this woman will surely kill us all!" She glares, the most furious any have ever seen her. "As soon as you two stop acting like children, we will proceed." She turns and bows to Zaltar, then awaits if the others are going to keep up their arguing before she can do something about the necromancer.

Upon receiving Vols orders for the mages to search the bookshelf, Melrinthy hastens to comply, directing her Spectral Hand to remove the books from the shelves one at a time for her perusal. The necromancer also takes three of the healing draughts and stores them in her pack. As Gareett moves over to join her, Mel turns to him and smiles, "That wand was most useful in our battle. Where did you obtain it?"

As the Yathrinshee finishes speaking, Volgath bows her head in obedience and then turns to face the other drow. "Be observant in the task that have been outlined- we must be prepared for any eventuality. Yathrinshee, I request that the two new children of Kiaransalee be deployed to guard the upper room from whence they came least more of those creations attack us unsuspectingly. Aside from that we will be ready to act if either the Patrol Commander or yourself desire it- until your commands we will do nothing." Vol casts her feral gaze over the other drow, ensuring that all orders are being obeyed.

"Good," she hisses, sending her newest creations upstairs to guard, as Vol had suggested. "And someone, bring Sethoroths body to me. Jarkeena, now that you know about your ability, do you think that you can control your ability to drain in order to keep from draining the charge that would resurrect Sethoroth? If not, give the wand to Qilteral that she might try." She smiles knowingly.

Vol moves out with the two newly created undead to the top chamber, signaling both Chesir and Evilyn to follow her upstairs to the upper study area. As the two warriors follow her, she speaks to them. "We must maintain our discipline if we are to get of the tower alive; I trust in both your abilities to secure this area with the help of the undead that the Yathrinshee has animated. Be on your guard, for if the necromancer answers the Yathrinshees challenge she will not come alone."

As the small groups makes it way upstairs they find the remains of two more of the drider like creatures, one is desiccated as if all the fluids in its body have been drained. Blood and gore cover the floor, and the remains of a once plush four poster bed litter the area. A single book case stands off to the side jammed full of books and scrolls. As the band looks them over they are shocked to note that many of the books have been penned in the drow language and undercommon.

A hand rests lightly on Chesirs shoulder. Turning, he locks eyes with Carafnir. "Be not quick to voice your anger, the commander must play both sides to keep us together and safe. He is a warrior first and foremost and male so he understands, but must save face. So keep your anger in check till we are away from the women and can talk as men."

As tempers and opinions flare about, Evilyn remains very silent and observes the rooms exits from her original position with Razark. After the commands of Thiel, Zaltar and Volgath are issued, Evilyn seeks to obey in that order. Until the challenge is issued however, Evilyn maintains her drow blade drawn, leaving both her crossbow and enchanted sword sheathed and her off-hand free for now.

Curious Evilyn watches to ensure the potions are as suspected and not a clever ruse to poison the needy. Once seen the warrior mage takes a trio of the flasks, leaving plenty for the wounded.

Nodding in reply to Vols command she follows, watching for marked traps, with out a word until spoken to. Silently signed Evilyn offers, *If the Yathrinshees undead are to assist in the rooms defense, then how are they to be commanded with the honored daughter of our Dark Lady below? Perhaps they would serve best as a deterrent in the stairwell, where the enemy is channeled and Thiel and Qil can direct them with relative safety.*

*As to this rooms contents, what do you know already?* Evilyn silently asks as she surveys the room for herself, looking for signs of the battle that must have occurred.

Gareett turns to Melrinthy on the way over to the empty bookshelf. "I have looked through these books, they are in a language I do not understand yet. These books here," he points to a stack near the bookshelf, "appear to be similar enough to be a set of some sort. That is all that I have been able to discern at this moment. Once the upper floor is secured we will move up there and inspect the library there as well. The wand was a prize won while we were still in the city." Gareett then moves to the stairs and waits for the warriors to ascend, then follows slowly, noting the traps that are marked and avoiding them.

Signing silently to those drow in her band, Evilyn comments, *Gareett, study the books as ordered, whilst Chesir and I secure the rest of the chamber. Do not be alarmed by my summoned assistance.* The last is accented by a series of short words and a gesture with her free hand.

The only visible effect is the slight zephyr at her side, akin to the force on the previous eve that aided in the camps defenses.

*With the traps about, touch nothing. Let my servant do it. Vol, was the Yathrinshee able to scan the entire chamber for traps or did these creatures interrupt your search? Speaking of which, where did they attack from?* Evilyns questions lead her to look high and low and to the rooms walls searching for passages into the bed chamber. *With these tomes of our tongue, could it be that whom we seek is drow themselves?*

There is a chest that has been over turned along with a huge standing closet. There is a large gold bathtub sunk into the floor under the beds remains. It appears that at least four people could have laid in the bed at one time. A flight of stairs winds its way up the far side of the room, Evilyn spots a large trap door is in the roof. The chest contains more books and five wands. The books are spells books from Evilyns guess, her personal ones.

Gareett nods and moves to the bookshelf to and begins to stack the books on the floor in several different piles.

Evilyn sneers to the wizard. While the silent language her inflection is quite evident as the words flow from nimble fingers, *Damn it, what part of do not touch anything confused you!? Look, do not touch. If something appears noteworthy, let me know that my servant can handle it.*

*Apologies. I misunderstood and I am in error. Each of these books appears to be noteworthy, as do the scrolls, I will need to open and examine all of them.* Gareett stands and waits for scrolls and books to move by the might of the invisible helper.

Pleased at his tone, Evilyn replies, *It is for your safety and that of everyone. When the room is secure, the servant will assist as needed.* Evilyn continues her search and as said, when finished, directs the Servant to organize the books and scrolls as Gareett sees fit.

*What languages are you familiar with, Gareett? Once we are finished here to Volgaths satisfaction, I would like to examine those tomes which you did not understand. I have a spell readied that would allow for my understanding.*

"Other than the obvious, I speak the slave languages of orcs, deep and grey dwarves. There is a set of books below with an unusual rune on each that I was unable to decipher. Other than that, the others appeared at first glance not significant."

Evilyn commands her servant to bring the wands to her as she alerts Volgath and Gareett to the spellbooks presence. *Those tomes could provide a clue to this persons capacity of power.* Each is long and thin, one end is capped with black or bronze metal. A single word is etched on each, save two, which have three words. Evilyn finds she cannot understand any of them.

*Volgath, examine the books and determine what level of spellcaster we will be dealing with.* Gareett continues looking through the scrolls from the bookcase.

Seeing the inscriptions, Evilyn briefly closes her eyes as she calls recalls the memorized words of power and understanding to lift the veil of darkness from her mind. After the spell, she finds she can now read most of the books. They are diaries, notebooks detailing her work, lore books and many others detailing the outer planes and the undead. She also finds she can understand the words on the wands, but still has no idea what they do.

Gareett moves over to Evilyn and begins to sign, *I have located diagrams detailing the creation of the creatures that we have encountered, as well as a few we have not. The most recent work involves orcs, I would suspect the stolen slaves. I believe with these scrolls that it should be relatively easy to duplicate the process. Whoever made these creatures used mundane magic and not the direct blessings of the goddess to create them as the scrolls describe magical and not priestly rituals to be performed.* He waits to see if there are any questions for him, if not he moves over to aid Vol in going over the spellbooks.

Chesir acknowledges Carafnirs whispered advice with one slow nod of his head. Then he does as ordered by beginning to set up a defense for the room. He uses furniture to block any windows, piles the pseudo-marilith bodies at the stair landing to hinder someone from coming up the stairs behind the party, investigates the opening in the stairwell where the three snake women came out, and arranges for the drider undead to block the stairs further up.

Grabbing a few of the captured edged weapons, he lodges them in the stairway railing with their blades jutting out into the stairway with their edges facing up the stairs, thus forcing someone coming down the stairs to either be careful or cut their legs up.

Upstairs in the room where Gareett and Evilyn have gone, Chesir sees little that can be done to make it very defensible. He uses one of his non-magical spears and parts of the ruined bed to make the spear stick straight up directly under the trap door in the ceiling for the unlikely event that an enemy jumps down from there. "If the guldak hits the fan, hurry downstairs, but mind the blade traps in the stairway." Chesir then hurries himself back to the rest of the group and waits with empty hands for something to happen. His preparations have taken no more than a few minutes, frustration and anger making him quite swift and energetic.

Seeing nothing she can do on the lower level, Melrinthy ascends the steps, carefully avoiding the marked traps, after Vol, Gareett and Evilyn. *Evilyn, my Spectral Hand can aid in inspecting the objects until it expires,* she volunteers.

While the others inspect the rooms contents, Mel keeps a watch, lest the drow be surprised as they were by the faux Mariliths. Taking her gaze from the wands and her brief discussion with Gareett, Evilyn answers, *Outstanding. Assist Gareett with the handling of the tomes and scrolls, while Vol and I concentrate upon the spellbooks and wands.*

Jarkeena responds to the Yathrinshees questions about the wand. "The Wand is drained, and has been since my boots and cloak and weapon were."

She hisses in displeasure. "Then give it to me, please. It might be possible that I can pray to our goddess and find some way to re-enchant it later. Ive been trying to create a new spell, and hopefully I can get it to work."

Vol looks around the upper room cautiously, interested in the two remaining constructs which lie dead on the floor. Looking at the female warrior/mage, the scarred woman answers her questions. *The Undead have been order to guard anything that comes through the passageway above; it seems that they have a semblance of intelligence; regarding the contents of the room, we did not have much time apart from marking four traps before we were attacked ourselves. After you have finished searching, I want you to tally up any remaining healing potions (including the three you have taken) so that we may know how many are left- the Patrol Commander may then see fit as to how they are divided. Also, if you find anything useful amongst all this, also make an inventory; report back to me when you have finished searching.* Evilyn nods and replies, *It will be done.*

Downstairs, Olerathiel frowns. "Perhaps Vol and I miscommunicated, for all of us were to have remained in the same room. In response to your question, acolyte, we were attacked by my new undead, while they were still living, and two more just like them. If it werent for the powers of my mace and Onyx, it is quite possible we would be dead by now. And for future reference, if both Zaltar and I say we are in a weak position, we are. And do not try and give orders when you have no authority. You are not even a full priestess yet, so do note invoke that right. Do I make myself clear?" She glares balefully at the acolyte, as if daring her to argue further, then sighs. "Since they decided to leave on their own, I will call her anyhow. If I hear a word from any of you, I will kill you on the spot. You, Jarkeena, and Chesir, have disgraced us in the eyes of our mission and our Goddess with your petty bickering, and I will tolerate no more. Nor, do I think, will Zaltar." In a loud, clear and strong voice, the Yathrinshee speaks. "We are all very impressed by the power you wield. Obviously, you are stronger than all of us combined. We are worshippers of the great Goddess Kiaransalee, goddess of vengeance and undeath. It is obvious that you have her favor, judging from your skill in the dark arts. We would speak to one as powerful as you, and learn." She waits, her beautiful face coldly set, deciding to keep her speech simple.

As the tomes, books and wands have been identified, Vol signals to the others. *The Yathrinshee requires us to be in the room below for the challenge to be issued; leave the collection of books in the upper chamber for now (we may collect them later depending on what events transpire but take the wands downstairs). Remember- not a blade nor a word of power is to be spoken once the challenge is issued.* So saying, the scarred woman leads the small group back down the stairs to the chamber below, calling the Yathrinshees undead to follow her, guarding their retreat.

Tucking the three worded wands into either boot and the three others in to her belt, Evilyn calls to Qilteral and Gareett quietly and signs to the rest. *Let us make haste for the Yathrinshee waits for no one, other then our Dark Mother. Gather that which bears magic and let us return. Honored Qilteral, your safety is paramount, please follow me with the spellbooks as Gareett takes the rear.*

Qilteral takes three of the spellbooks, then looks around before leaving. The scrolls are all diagrams of various creatures and creations, there are more here then all present could carry, they number well into the thousands. As for books, three that contain four spells of each level she can cast that she can read. All the others are beyond her scope of power and will be for some time. There many spellbooks in the chest, but these appear to be her personal spellbooks. Gareett takes most of the scrolls.

Giving the priestess time to fall in at her leisure, Evilyn heads back down the stairs carefully watching for both the towers traps and those laid by Chesir. Below, Evilyn asks Qilteral and tells Gareett to follow her as she gives a report to Volgath.

*Five wands. Each with command words, but their effects are still unknown. Those tomes which Gareett could not read, are notebooks and journals of a sort. Most dealing with the undead and planar creatures. A quick count shows just under twenty-nine potions left, including the three I have. I recommend that each member be given three, save Jarkeena, for her uncontrolled magic vampirism would reduce them to water. The excess should be provided to the Yathrinshee, Zaltar and yourself. I am in possession of the wands and at your command, I could test them from outside the tower. Then we could divide them as needed. Gareett and the honored Qilteral can report on their findings.* Bowing briefly, Evilyn steps to the side to let Qilteral, then Gareett speak. Idly, she realizes that when she grabbed Sethoroths belt, she gained the ion stone and dagger the woman had.

Gareett leans toward Evilyn. *We will need to talk before you test the wands.* Evilyn stares back to the wizard with a face of pleasant features. With a sly grin as though she like whom she sees, Evilyn replies, *Fine then. Speak of that you wish, Gareett,* and waits with piqued interest.

Gareett bows to Evilyn and signs a single word. *After.*

As the healing potions are passed about, Zaltar orders that each person drink only one. "If any more are needed, Qilteral will heal with her magic." As the groups disperse up and down the stairs, and into the alcove, many discoveries are made. The first is that Seth is nothing more than a blood spot after an extremely large stone landed on top of her. Nothing is salvageable from the body. Chesir discovers in the alcove two weapons racks. Spears, flails, maces, axes, and swords hang neatly in rows with various scabbards below. Chesir looks at the array of weapons on the racks and smiles. "Like a child at the bazaar when the candy merchant comes to town," he whispers to himself. He quickly grabs a sheath to hold his new longsword, replacing it on the rack with the sheath that once held his old non-magical blade, which he tossed to Slaveriin during the fight. Then he starts to load his arms with spears and begins thinking of where he can carry some of the other swords. Suddenly, he stops. Looting the wizards armory might be very counterproductive to Thiels negotiations, but after some consideration he decides that she would be more worried about all those potions and scrolls that the party has already taken. Just to be safe, he replaces each of the three spears he takes with one of his non-magical spears, quickly reties the new spears into a bundle along with the magical one he already had, and makes a note of the number of remaining swords, spears, maces, and flails. If possible, he will return later for more spears, and distribute the other weapons to the other drow. "Those flails and spears would be of great value in the hands of ShaurakHai orcs," he muses grimly.

The drow leaves the alcove and stands with the party. He leans the bundle of spears against the wall, discretely out of immediate reach of his hands, and hidden from casual view if possible.