Dungeons and Dragons: Druev in the Underdark

Smoke rose from a bowl of flaming incense and slowly coalesced into the image of a stone building decorated with a red awning. Druev Myslavi, the dark-skinned Human who had been sitting by the bowl muttering incantations for the last ten minutes, snatched a sheet of paper from the journal of one of his companions and dutifully sketched the building with a charcoal pencil. When he was done, he took a bite of a magically-enhanced Goodberry, the only nourishment he'd need for the whole day, and used some of the juice to provide some color to his drawing.

Druev had been lighting these morning fires since the day he became a Druid in the grasslands of his home, but not until now, when he reached level 7, did he receive a clear omen from the use of Divination. Maybe it was the particular mix of incense he used this morning: Druev had used most of the contents of his herbalism kit after the first couple of weeks in the Underdark, so he had supplemented it with roots from the ancient Dwarven ruins, plants from the Deep Gnome city of Sjungasten, and fungus from the Myconid kingdom. Today's development reassured him that he hadn't been lugging the kit around for nothing.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Druev addressed the party in his deep thickly accented voice. "I have asked the old gods for help in finding the tailor shop that manufactured the fabric used to make the red glove that was found at the scene of the crime..."

Druev paused for a breath; that was a lot of exposition for one sentence. A high tremulous voice emerged from what would appear to be an empty crate resting peacefully on the ground, but which was really Thrick, Deep Gnome Illusionist: "Yes, the theft of the Ruby Arcanabula."

"We all know what crime we're investigating, Thrick," piped in the irritated voice of Lady Elizabeth Black, Human War Cleric of the Red Knight. "Let Druev finish."

"I have divined that the shop looks a little something like this," Druev finished, brandishing his drawing.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Lonovan Geshaught, the Halfling archer, who currently looked more like a deep gnome, thanks to the disguise kit he had just finished applying. "Score one for nature magic." (He was part Ranger after all.)

"Now, if we're done with all this chanting and arm waving, let's get going," grunted Urgen, the hulking Half-Orc warchief as he slung Sunbrand, his greatsword, across his back.

"Of course," agreed the perfumed High Elf thief Lady Althea Glanandell, hopping nimbly to her feet. "Now it's just a simple matter of marching into the foreign quarter of Erath Belan and finding this building amongs thousands."

Erath Belan: the city of the Drow. It was here that Druev and his companions started their journey through the Underdark, having been enslaved by the wicked Dark Elves and forced to fight in their gladiator pit for sport. Well, that's how it started for Druev and his three taller companions: they met the two shorter ones after their daring escape. Now they were returning as part of a mission that would hopefully end with their safe return to the surface world.

===

"Well, the good news is that the guards at the gate aren't Drow." Lonovan had just returned to the shantytown on the outskirts of the foreign quarter where the rest of the party was waiting. "One is a half-ogre, the other is some devil-looking thing with wings and a tail."

"Just two guards?" Urgen was practically salivating. "Come on! Let's take them out!"

"Now Urgen," cooed Althea reassuringly. "Any commotion might attract the attention of the Soulblades. We are still wanted by the city's elite warriors."

"What are you scared of?" challenged Urgen. "We can take a few Dark Elf lackeys!"

"Yes, but not a few thousand," pointed out Elizabeth, wearily.

"Fortunately, there is more good news," chimed in Lonovan, cheerfully. "I have used my skill in forgery to create false identification papers for all of us! Druev, you will be known as Alphonse Sapperstein III," the halfling continued, passing the papers around. "Lady Elizabeth, you will be Wilhemina White. (See what I did there? Black/White?) Urgen, your last name is Nader, first name Uri."

Urgen took the paper and gazed at it skeptically. "Uri... URINATOR!?!?! Why you...." The halfling was barely able to avoid the half-orc's first charge since he was laughing so hard, and the two danced around the rest of the party in what had become a rather typical scene.

"Urgen! Lon! Please!" interjected Druev. "What if we were able to sneak past the guards unnoticed? The Druids of my homeland have perfected a spell for walking unseen. We use it to cover large distances of veldt without being detected by a territorial pride of lions, or to gather water from a river without worrying about the crocodiles lurking underneath the surface. I can cast the spell with enough power to renderthree members of the party completely invisible."

"I can do the same for myself," offered Althea.

"And I can take care of myself as well..." said Thrick, who had added a set of wheels to his crate illusion. "And Mr. Bellweathers, of course."

At the mention of this name, Lady Elizabeth rolled her eyes in extreme frustration. "Thrick, can you PLEASE drop this imaginary friend nonsense? We all know that you don't have a giant spider following you around everywhere!"

From inside his illusion, Thrick shook his head sadly. "Yes, I know, Mr. Bellweathers. It IS tragic that you can only be seen by those who are pure of heart..."

"Wait a minute," piped in Lonovan. "That only accounts for five of us. We're one short."

"Easy!" exclaimed Druev. "After I have cast the spell on three of you, I will use my Druidic power to transform into an unassuming rat, scale the wall, and climb over the guards' heads."

"One more thing," remarked Urgen, pausing in his task of removing his chainmail so as to move more stealthily. "If we're all invisible, how will we know where the rest of the party is?"

"Easy again," said Druev, flashing a toothy grin. "Just follow the rat!"

===

A tiny, unassuming rat crawled out through a broken pane of glass of a window on a stone building with a red awning and a boarded up door in the Foreign Quarter outside of Erath Belan. The rat cocked its head to one side, let out a confused squeak, and proceeded to run around in circles in a gesture of futility.

"Well, it certainly appears that this is the tailor shop we seek," spoke a quiet deep gnomish voice, seemingly out of thin air.

"But it also appears that our Druid friend has failed to find a way inside," came the reply from a halfling voice, also without a source. The rat squeaked in agreement.

"Ha, these boards should be no trouble to remove," came from the gruff tones of a half-orc, as the dust of the ground began to stir in a line leading to the shop's door.

"Are you crazy?" asked a strong female human voice. "We may all be invisible, but a door becoming un-barred and opening on its own is bound to draw some attention."

"What we need is a diversion!" suggested a dainty female Elvish voice. "Wait here."

"But what are you going to do?" asked the human again, but it was too late - there was no sign of her companion.

"And I thought she was hard to hear when she was visible," joked the halfling. 

After a few moments, the female half of a Tiefling couple walking down the street let out an embarrassed shriek and wheeled around, clutching her wounded posterior. The party was too far away to make out their conversation, but they could clearly see the Tiefling woman point an accusatory finger at a confused Half-Orc who happened to be passing by.

The male Tiefling, not about to suffer a slight to his mate's honor, got in the Half-Orc's face, who in turn wasn't about to back down from a fight - even though he had absolutely no idea what was going on.

A crowd started to gather as shouts gave way to shoves, which gave way to blows. Down the street, the boards that had been blocking the door to a certain tailor shop fell harmlessly to the ground.

===

"The Soulblades have definitely been through here," the voice of Elizabeth Black echoed through the abandoned tailor shop. "It looks like they-- OUCH! Watch where you're going!"

"Oh, uh, so sorry," came the voice of Thrick, much lower to the ground. "I was just on my way to investigate that corner, but I didn't know you were already there. It is quite hard to discern one another's locations while under the invisibility spell."

The scene in the shop must have been amusing to behold: drawers and cabinets opened and closed, swaths of fabric billowed in nonexistent wind, but there were no occupants to be seen, save one rat perched atop the windowsill.

"They might have been through here, but they didn't find everything," exclaimed Lonovan Geshaught, his voice coming from the desk in the back room. "I do believe I've found a false bottom in one of these drawers."

A loud and satisfying click rang out through the store, a ledger-sized book emerged from a drawer, and plopped itself on the desk. A clamor of footsteps permeated the dry air as the book opened and the pages started to turn.

"These transaction amounts are vastly incongruous with the going rate of fabrics, even extremely large quantities," remarked Althea Glanandel in her distinctive Elven accent. "Look at this one here."

"Where?" growled Urgen the Half-Orc.

"There, I'm pointing right at it... oh, of course," Althea corrected herself, removing her invisible hand from the page. "Three lines down on the left-hand page. 700 gold pieces paid to 'Maresh - Black Dagger Gang.' And that name appears quite frequently in this ledger."

"I do believe we've stumbled upon a front for smuggling illicit goods through the city," said Urgen, rubbing his hands together expectantly, although none of his party members could see him. "This could be the break we need to supply the Darksong Knights for their upcoming assault on Erath Belan!"

"Uh, be that as it may," piped in Thrick, "this development brings us no closer to discovering who purloined the Ruby Arcanabula, which is our primary objective in this quest..."

"YOUR primary objective maybe," interrupted Elizabeth. "OUR primary objective, before we found you running for your life in those caverns, was to find a way to get ourselves out of the Underdark, which is exactly what the Darksong Knights are offering. So I vote that we follow this lead wherever it takes us."

"And who knows, Thrick," consoled Althea, "perhaps this Black Dagger gang has some connection with the theft of the Ruby. We won't know until we ask around."

"But we can't ask around in this state," chimed in Lonovan. "If my calculations are correct, our invisibility is about to wear off, and I don't think it's a good idea for us to be inside here when it does."

"Agreed," confirmed Elizabeth. "We have to get out of here, find a safe place to become visible again, and gather as much information as we can."

===

A female Drow, a male Deep Gnome, a hooded and  cloaked Human woman, and a male Half-Orc with a rat perched on his shoulder (and pulling a crate on wheels attached to a rope) entered the largest tavern in the Foreign Quarter of Erath Belan. Relatively few heads turned in their directions, due to the disguises they wore and the general motley character of most of the tavern's patrons. Althea, wrapped in a magical disguise, strode confidently up to the Tiefling bartender.

"Good afternoon, sir," she said warmly. "How much for your finest brandy?"

"Ah, a woman of good taste," the bartender responded, pulling a bottle from the shelf behind him. "I think you'll enjoy this vintage. It's five coppers for a snifter, if you please, ma'am."

Althea smied, somewhat condescendingly. "No, no, how much for the bottle."

The bartender furrowed his brow, causing his horns ot move closer together. "The... whole bottle? I'm afraid I couldn't part with it for any less than a gold piece..."

The distinctive "clink" of gold onto wood filled the bartender's ears. "There you go, my good man," said Althea. "And three glasses."

"Certainly, ma'am!" responded the bartender, excitedly. "Would you be needing anything else this afternoon?"

"Just information," replied Althea. "You see, I was supposed to meet someone here, but he neglected to give me a description. I'm looking for a fellow named Maresh."

"Oh, I see." The bartender's face darkened. "Well, you're on time for your meeting - Maresh and his men are just finishing up their lunch over there in the corner - but I don't see why a nice polite lady like you would want to talk with the likes of them."

"I'm always interested in meeting those who can make things happen in this city," replied Althea, dropping another gold piece on the bar. "Why don't you give me another bottle to take over to them. I wouldn't want my new friends to get thirsty."

===

With two bottles in her hands and Urgen the Half-Orc at her side, Lady Althea Glanandel approached the Black Dagger Gang's table. A ragtag band of heavily armed Drow and Half-Orcs occupied an entire corner of the room, but at the center of the gang was an enormous black Dragonborn. A pair of guards stood up to confront Althea and Urgen, but the offered bottle of brandy convinced their leader of our heroes' pure intentions.

"Greetings, good sir," said Althea. "My bodyguard and I heard that you are the person to see regarding the importing and exporting of fine and useful goods."

"And 'oo did you 'ear this from?" asked the Dragonborn. "I might 'ave to cut owt 'is tongue."

"You can't cut the tongue out of a reputation," responded Althea. "And that reputation says that you're not one to turn down a lucrative deal. Shall we drink on it?"

The eyes of the thugs surrounding the Dragonborn lit up when Althea produced her bottle, uncorked it, and filled up their glasses. The Dragonborn, however, remained stone faced and did not accept the proffered drink. "Say wot you came to say, Dark Elf," the Dragonborn growled.

Althea flashed a charming frown and filled her own glass. "Very well, but I never like to discuss business with a dry throat. My... organization and I are looking to acquire a rather large quantity of Drow poison. Let's say 100 vials. As soon as possible, of course."

"We might be able to make that 'appen," responded the Dragonborn with a smirk. "For the very reasonable sum o' 6,000 gold pieces. Cash up front, of course, if you got it."

Althea's face might have shown the slightest twitch, but before she could respond, Urgen's pouch full of gold flew onto the table. "We can't produce it all now," the Half-Orc said, "but this should prove our commitment."

With a look from the Dragonborn leader, the Drow sitting next to him picked up the pouch, hefted it in his hands, and jingled its contents next to his ear. With a guffaw he said, "Are these guys for real? There can't be more than 300 GP in here!"

Urgen leaned in with a wink and snatched the pouch back. "This is just our lunch budget."

A hint of amusement passed over the Dragonborn's face. "OK, let's say you're f'real. It'll take us at least a week to gather all the goods. Why don't we touch base tomorrow when you've gathered the rest o' your funds."

"Consider it done," said Althea, draining the rest of her glass and standing up from the table. "Enjoy the rest of the bottle."

===

"6,000 gold!?" exclaimed Lady Elizabeth Black when she heard how the conversation went. The party was comfortably settled in the room that they just rented taking a short rest. "We can't even come close to raising that amount!"

"Elizabeth, please," Althea cooed. "I never intended to pay them one cent. That meeting was purely informational."

"OK, you have your information. What do you propose we do now?" asked an incredulous Elizabeth.

"Let me answer your question with another question," replied Althea. "Druev, how much time do you have left in your wild shape form?"

"Squeak, sque-squeak squeeeak!" responded Druev. Elizabeth just sighed, produced a leaf of paper from her journal and drew the face of a clock on it. Druev traced his snout one and a half times around the circle.

"Perfect!" said Althea. "Urgen is down at the bar keeping an eye on them. When they leave, I propose our rodentious Druid companion tails them to their hideout, finds out what he can, and reports back to us here. Then we plan our attack."

"Squeak, squeak, SQUEEEEEAK!!!" replied an excited-looking Druev, and made his way towards the door.

===

More than two hours had passed when the party heard a faint scratching on the door to their room. When Elizabeth opened the door, however, there was nothing to be seen.

"Who's there, Liz?" asked Lonovan from across the room.

"Seems like no one," replied Elizabeth, shutting the door. "And I don't like it."

"But you are going to love this!" came the voice of Druev, followed shortly by his Human form appearing out of thin air.

"Druev!" shouted Althea. "How did the mission go? Did you find their hideout?"

"Found it AND explored inside!" proclaimed Druev triumphantly. "When my wild shape wore off, I used my last second level spell slot to turn myself invisible, then while concentrating, shrunk down to rat form again, snuck inside, and memorized the layout. You're welcome, everyone."

"And?" asked Urgen, excitedly. "Is it heavily guarded?"

"Did you see any supplies?" asked Althea.

"What about the Ruby Arcanabula?" asked Thrick, now in the form of a dining chair.

"One at a time, please," replied Druev suavely, savoring the moment. "All shall be revealed in time." The Human Druid turned over the piece of paper with the clock drawn on it and started sketching out a map.

===

Lady Althea Glanandel concentrated on picking the lock on the back door of the Black Dagger Gang's hideout. Beside her stood Urgen, fingering the blade of his greatsword Sunbrand, Lady Elizabeth Black, cradling her warhammer, Lonovan Geshaught, stringing an arrow to his bow, Druev Myslavi, his hand free so as to better cast his spells, and Thrick, disguised as a simple wooden crate.

A soft click indicated that our heroes were ready to make their entrance. Althea nodded softly to Urgen, who backed up a few steps and took up his weapon in two hands. At the wordless count of three, Urgen lowered his head and charged while Althea gently pushed open the door.

"GUNGULA!!!" shouted Urgen as his greatsword found its mark - the chest of one of the two Half-Orc guards lounging in the room. Lon Geshaught jumped in after him and peppered the other guard with  arrows. Then Althea, her two silvered shortswords shimmering, slashed at the throat of Urgen's target. Druev leapt into the fray next, a scimitar-shaped blade of pure fire appearing in his hand, aiming a brutal slash at the one Lon shot. Elizabeth took a swing with her warhammer, but seeing that their foes were of Orcish descent, she dropped her god's favored weapon to the ground and reached for something else in her pack.

Urgen's next swing clove the helm of the first guard and sent him sprawling to the ground, but Lonovan's next arrow was just a glancing blow. The second guard deftly ducked under Druev's fiery swing and shouted at the top of his lungs: "INTRUDERS!" They were his last words, however, as Elizabeth's Orc-bane maul sent him to his maker.

There was just one door leading out of this room into the hideout, around which the party congregated. They knew, thanks to Druev's description of the building, that the door led to a hallway from which two staircases led, one leading up to a pair of closed doors, and one leading down to a storeroom. In a fit of inspiration, Urgen hefted one of the dead guards - the one with the least facial damage - and held it out the door into the hallway.

"Uh, false alarm guys!" Urgen shouted, trying to mimic the guard's voice as best as possible. "It was just some kids selling stuff. We got rid of them..." But it was too late: another Half-Orc, a Drow, and a Dragonborn were running headlong down the hallway.

"Comrades, it's time to take up the Crusader's Mantle!" cried Elizabeth. "Strike true and may your weapons find their marks!" She waded into the hallway, her maul striking at the heart of the Half-Orc guard.

"Focus fire... literally!" suggested Druev as his flaming sword swung towards Elizabeth's target. "Take them out one at a time."

"GUNGULA!" shouted Urgen, as he joined the fray with his greatsword. "These halls will run red with your blood!" He was followed shortly by Lonovan, his arrows whizzing through the air.

Seeing the full force of the assault, the Drow, who Urgen recognized as the one who counted the money in his pouch earlier, turned on his heel and ran up the stairs, shouting, "Boss! Boss! We need help, they're inside!"

"Looks like we're going to have company," noticed Althea. "Block the hallway, Urgen!" she shouted, lifting up the box-shaped Thrick. "Just hold them off long enough for us to raid the storeroom and then we're out of here!" The slender Elf tucked Thrick under one arm, pulled out an eyelash encased in gum arabic, and became invisible. 

With a motion that mimicked a crate being knocked over the railing in the commotion, Althea leapt over the railing, just behind two more guards charging up the stairs from the storeroom, driving a wedge in between our heroes. Urgen, the loudest and most intimidating member of the party, was now taking the brunt of the attacks from four enemies. 

"You're not the only ones who can focus your fire," coughed the injured Half-Orc guard grimly. "We'll take you down if it's the last thing we do!" Despite his mastery over the heavy armor he was wearing, the Half-Orc warchief's defenses were beginning to weaken.

Fortunately, Urgen was no mere brawler. He was a highly intelligent leader who had studied the arcane arts and knew something of strategy as well. With a flick of his wrist and a shout, a line of strong wind blasted out from Urgen's outstretched palm, knocking one of the guards headlong down the stairs.

The guard landed in a heap next to what appeared to be a harmless crate, into which the contents of a nearby shelf were sliding, seemingly of their own accord. The guard gave a confused look at the situation, but before he could get his bearings, a dagger flashed from the crate and stabbed him through the throat.

"Uh, Althea," came Thrick's voice from the crate. "This bag of holding is nearly half full, and none of these items on the shelf appear to be the Ruby Arcanabula. I suggest you get that closet open post haste so that we can continue to investigate."

"What does he think I'm trying to do?" muttered Althea to herself. "Of course, Thrick, I'll let you know as soon as I... Aha!" The lock opened with a click and the door swung open, revealing actual crates stuffed with dozens of vials. "Make sure there's plenty of room in that bag, Thrick. I do believe we've found the motherlode..."

===

Meanwhile, back upstairs, Druev was knocked to the ground by a vicious bash from the shield of the Half-Orc guard. However, this action left him open to a crushing blow from a floating spectral warhammer courtesy of Elizabeth. An arrow from Lonovan finished him off, leaving just the Dragonborn warrior against whom Urgen was squaring off. 

This one was a particularly tough customer, who had managed to deal some serious damage to the party's tank, despite the sigil of warding he had traced through the air prior to to each swing of his greatsword. But after a long arduous battle, it looked like the tide was finally turning for our heroes.

That is, until a door at the top of the stairs burst open, revealing none other than Maresh, the gang's Dragonborn leader. He was flanked by two Drow: the one who ran up the stairs earlier, and a slender male wearing flowing robes. Maresh snarled and drew himself up to his full height. "Looking to procure some Drow Poison, eh? You dirty, lyin' sneak thieves! Kill 'em all, boys!"

The money counter drew his longsword and headed down the stairs, while the mage raised up his hand, chanted an arcane phrase, and let fly with six glowing darts of magical force, all heading straight at Urgen. But the Half-Orc was prepared for such an assault, and with a shout and a gesture of his own, called up a barrier of magical force, upon which the missiles impacted harmlessly.

Now it was Druev's turn to act. Letting his fiery blade fizzle out of his hand, he pulled out a small, straight piece of iron and fixed his gaze on both Maresh and the Drow mage. Concentrating hard, he caught them in a moment of mental weakness, and they both stood still, paralyzed by the potent enchantment magic.

The Drow warrior looked back in confusion for a moment as his companions stopped moving, but then immediately joined his Dragonborn ally in the single minded battle to bring Urgen down. Elizabeth and Lonovan continued aiding their friend, the former by providing bursts of healing, the latter by peppering his combatant with arrows, but the addition of a fresh enemy to the fight caused things to start looking grim.

And then with a fearsome roar, Maresh broke free of Druev's spell. The Druid reeled back in shock, still concentrating on holding the mage in place, but the powerful Dragonborn was already at the foot of the stairs. "You fools!" he screamed. "I'll teach you to mess with the Black Dagger Gang!"

His Drow and Dragonborn companions just barely managed to get out of the way as Maresh opened his mouth and let out a stream of acid breath. Its corrosive fumes doused Urgen and Elizabeth, eating through their armor and skin and causing a sickening smell to permeate the room. Urgen stumbled, fell to one knee, but somehow found the strength to get back up.

But Maresh wasn't done. Drawing a serrated short sword from his belt, the Dragonborn let out a mighty swing, slicing through the Half-Orc's flesh. In his last moments of consciousness, Urgen felt a powerful poison seep into his blood, and the mighty warrior finally fell.

As the leader of the Black Dagger Gang raised his eponymous weapon and prepared to strike the killing blow, Druev, who had been concentrating quietly in the corner of the room, pulled out his last trick. Conjuring up memories of the grasslands of his home continent, the Druid summoned four fey spirits, each taking the form of a large crocodile. One of these appeared upstairs next to the mage, who found himself able to move again just in time to be devoured, and the other three surrounded Maresh.

In the confusion caused by the emergence of these beasts, Elizabeth quickly stabilized the unconscious form of Urgen, then produced her holy symbol and called forth spirits to protect her party. The remaining enemies felt the immediate sting of radiant light, which was enough to finally bring down the Dragonborn. At the same time, the Drow was hit by a poisoned arrow from a suddenly-visible Althea's crossbow.

Upon seeing the woman with whom he had spoken at the tavern just hours ago, Maresh's eyes grew wide with hate. "How DARE you break into MY 'ideout!?" He shouted. "I'll flay the skin from your bones!"

But as he charged forward, one of Druev's crocodiles snapped its fey jaws down onto Maresh's tail. The Dragonborn turned and wildly stabbed at it with his dagger, but Althea was ready. Producing a pinch of powdered iron, she muttered some arcane words and the crocodile began to grow. The roof shook, the walls of the hallway buckled, and Maresh let out an agonized scream as another crocodile's jaws found home. 

"You'll... regret... this..." Maresh managed to stammer. 

Druev strode forward, a supernatural flame appearing in his free hand. "Not as much as you will."

The Druid let fly with his ball of fire, which hit its mark just as the two crocodiles quartered their prey. With one last scream, and a sickening crunch of the rending of burning flesh, Maresh, the leader of hte Black Dagger Gang, was no more.