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<OOC> Quick question, is Horin on the ground, or with Prosper? I'm thinking war cry of some sort in a bit. Since I think he's in the party...</OOC>

Horin's eyes grew wide at the sound of fighting in the distance. "Shall we be fighting then?" He asked the Captain.

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<Horin is in the underground room with Captain Sealem and the main party.>
Captain Sealem said: "Aye, we shall Master Horin, we shall indeed!" The Captain grabbed up his sword from where it rested in his scabbard and rushed out of the room towards where Marus and Drek were fighting their lone adversary.

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Prosper (or Gaal, if you prefer) had no idea what the Gnome was talking about, and was now more confused than ever. Should he play along? No, it seemed that that route only led to the Gnome saying something about his next shipment, and demanding Gooseberries now wouldn't lead anywhere. So should he spill everything?
Suddenly, an idea struck the young rouge.
"Acctually, I've been sent to warn you. There are rumors of a resistance, and several famillies think you've been helping them... with evidence to back it up. Considering your services to my Mistress, she has decided to tell you before any vilolence breaks out. Of course with your continued friendship and services in the future?"
Prosper hoped that something in the diminuative man's response would give him away, so he could finally throw away the ruse.

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The Gnome looked at Prosper and stared at him. He didn't say anything for a long minute. Then he pressed button on his desk and said: "Seal the doors. We've got a problem." Imediately, Prosper heard a "click" and a mechanical sound. The doors in this room were all now bolted shut.

The Gnome looked up: "You know, that Disguise spell of yours is very effective against mundanes, but I'm afraid our house mage saw through the illusion. Care for some fruit? How about some wine? It's very good vintage." One of the female Gnomes poured cups of wine and placed them on the gnome's desk The rich Gnome continued. "You know, at first I thought it was some new ruse the Overseer was using to probe my defenses, so I played along. But you're not from the Overseer, are you? So tell me: Who are you, and why do you have a magic rat on your shoulder?"

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(Meanwhile, back at the cave entrance...)
Marcus sprung from his hiding place with deadly force, cutting the Drow's head neatly off with his sword. The Drow ranger had no chance to defende fimself... he was caught completely by surprise.

"Well, that was easy...." said Marcus.

The drow-head rolled around on the floor. Blood spurted from it.

Drek said: "Yeah, you nailed him. Way to go. Now, let's hide the body before more Drow come to look for their friend."

Just then, Andrew arrived, too late to take part in the battle (such as it was).

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Prosper wasn't sure weather to be happy or astonished. His plan had worked, somewhat, and that made him smile, but the fact that the disguise had been so easily seen through was a dissapointment. Also, he was a little annoyed at Acedia for being out in the open.
Prosper took the wine, swishing it 'round the glass, but did not drink.
"My name is Prosper of Skara Brae, an... adventurer. My compainions are... nearby. I was sent, along with this Flayer, Tem, and the rat, Acedia, who is also elaboratly disguised." He mentally winced at giving away that information. It might've been useful to know something the rich Gnome didn't. Foolish!
The boy suddenly remembered something which might help to gain trust. Reaching into his pack, he pulled out the letter from the Emperor of Sulesandar, and placed it on the Gnomes small desk.
"This will prove that I am not lying." Prosper said.

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The Gnome read the letter: "Well.. I'll be a orc's uncle... he's telling the truth... at least about who he is." The gnome handed the letter back to Prosper and came around the desk, dismissing his female servants in the process. They dutifully moved to the edges of the room, their backs to the walls. He picked up a wine goblet and had a sip. "So, Master Prosper... I heard about you. You're quite famous in Elven circles, you know. Both the Drow and the Suldeneselarians have tales that involve you in some way. The Drowish tales are... well. shall we say... unkind. The Suldeneselarian tales paint you as a recipient of their Emperor's saving power. Hrm... it seems both you and I have powerful friends. As I'm sure you noticed, I myself am under contact to the Royal House of Suldenedelar... as a dealer in antiquities. What's your motivation here? Me, I'm here on the behest of both the the Luskan and the Suldeneselarian governments. They asked me to investigate the goings-on in this mountain city under the guise of a neutral flag: My own. I do buisness here as a way to preserve my neutrality, but I plan to leave soon and report back to the Emperor about what's going on here. Believe me, it's not pretty."

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<OOC: Now for the power of Retcon! Mwahahahahaha>

Andrew said to Drek and Marcus "Sorry if I'm late, I came when I heard an arrow fired in this direction." Andrew had soon noticed the decapitated corpse of the Drow and could tell the battle ended only a short time ago.

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Marcus said: "You're too late. We killed them all!"

Drek said: "He means there was only one of them. Help us hide the body."

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Acedia looked indignant and scurried off of Prosper's shoulder, deciding to take off the rat medallion. Luckily the magic had at some point been upgraded to allow her to keep her clothes when she used this particular medallion. Of course, short as she was, Acedia still felt uncomfortably tall in the Gnome's office, though she said nothing to this effect. Somehow she had a feeling that anything she could possibly contribute would be utterly ignored by the gnome anyway. It's hard not to label a man who keeps two female servants and treats them as animated furniture a sexist pig, after all.

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get LOST

As soon as Acedia transformed herself from a rat to a young woman, the gnome said: "Ah, so my mage isn't quite as competent as I have been lead to believe. He didn't pick up on the second disguise. Well, allow me to introduce myself: Jay Warren Worthington of Luskan, merchant-at-large, at your service. And who might you be?"

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Instinctively, Acedia palmed her medallion as soon as it was off of her neck and slipped it into her pocket without allowing the others in the room to see what it was. Shiny things tended to attract unwanted attention. Then the Gnome spoke to her.

"Acedia. I have no surname." Her reply was terse. In reality, she did have a surname; however, she was wont to view the whole concept of having a second name as pretentious and more as a tool for manipulating and one-upmanship than identification. Giving her family name wouldn't have elevated her stature here; as far as she was aware, her society had been largely forgotten. She wasn't sure exactly who had been behind its destruction, anyway, so there was another reason to keep her name mum - when eradicating a society, it's typically best to ensure that you do, in fact, kill everyone within it, and a survivor only means trouble later on.

She was tempted to make some remark concerning the subtlety and relative rarity of magic artifacts crafted by the Burcet family of metalsmiths (and suppose that that was the reason the mage did not realize that the magic rat was more than a rat), but then decided that the Gnome didn't need to know that she carried such things.

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Jay the Merchant Gnome nodded and said: "No surname? What a shame, Miss Acedia. I had taken you for someone with more class than that. No matter: You're as welcome to my abode as you would otherwise be. I make it a point never to ignore proper hospitality merely because of class distinctions. It tends to get in the way to profit, don't you agree?"

Tem said: "Why are you dampening the ether in here, Gnome?"

Jay the Merchant Gnome said: "Ah, the High-Flayer speaks! I was wondering when you'd abandon your silence, good sir. Yes, I have the room dampened against psionics. Wouldn't do to have the Illithid and their dark-skinned friends know that I'm the head of what passes for a resistance cell in this city, now would it? I mean, no offense, but I like my brains; I need my brains; I'm very attached to my brains. So, if you don't mind my thoughts are going to stay just that: Mine. Now, shall we get down to business, or was there something else you wanted to know?"

Tem said: "The Illithid? You mean the Dark Flayers, don't you?"

Jay replied: "Yes and no. The Illithid are what the Dark Flayers are calling themselves these days. I've yet to discover why."

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Acedia merely shrugged and remained quiet. She still didn't think too highly of Jay the Merchant Gnome, and she was getting a little moody for some reason. Also, he'd said she was as welcome here as she'd otherwise be...which raised more concerns than it abated. How welcome would she be otherwise? And for what purpose? She'd just come along for entertainment, it's not as if she had anything of particular value to say. Prosper and Tem had joined the party around the same time as she had.

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Prosper spoke up, now that introductions had been fully made.
"The party I'm with has uncovered a plot by the Drow to free Lolth. We were sent to investigate any possible resistance that may be of some assistance in foiling this plot. And it seems we've come to the right place. Can you help us?"
The boy certainly hoped they could.

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Jay said: "That depends. Who's Lolth?"

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Prosper halted. He really didn't understand it himself, but he thought that he new enough.
"The Drowish high godess. Apparently imprisoned for many years." he said, hoping Jay's memory would pick up anything he missed.

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"I wonder if it is possible to bury the body" replied Andrew, "At least then he would leave the world with dignity..."

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(In the Gnomish Airship)
Jay said: "Ah... so that's their plan. I was wondering why they chose this place to invade first. Yes, of course... with all the Mythril in the mines below, they could generate enough mystic energy to free their gods. And here I though they wanted it for weapons. Looks like it's time for a little slave revolt, aye?"

(Near the cave entrance)
Marcus could smell more Drow coming his way... from outside the cave. But... these Drow smelled different... females!

Drek said: "I suppose we should bury him, but not here. Let's get it back to the main party."

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Horin noticed a change about Marcus. "What is it, lizzard?"

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Prosper smiled. "Aye. How do we start?"

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<OOC> You mean Lilith, not Lolth.
Lolth is a Drow goddess of spiders in the Forgotten Realms setting.
Lilith is Sarge's Lolth ripoff copy imitation facsimile.

One more thing: Mithral is spelled with an I, not a Y.

My annoying corrections end now. </OOC>

{ If you wanna get technical, it's Mithril. >.> ANYWAY }

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<I could've sworn Sarge said Lolth somewhere.>

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<I probably did.. But yeah, Eruantian is right. So let's all pretend Prosper said "Lillith" and jay said "Mithril" and then let's all read this:>

(In the cave entrance)
Marcus could smell them clearly now: Three female Drow and a large dog were coming this way.

(In the Gnomish Airship)

Jay said: "There's about a dozen scattered resistance cells in the city, and a few more down in the mines. I've been carefully supplying them with weapons, equipment and information in ways that don't trace back to me. So far, my efforts have been hindered by the Illithid: Those blasted mind-readers are hard to hide things from. If your group could take them out of the picture them somehow, I could step up of efforts vis-a-via the High-Flayer resistance."

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Prosper smiled at Jay. "We're not sure how much time we have, but we'll do everything we can to keep them away from you," he said confidently.
But inside, all of his energy and excitment had come crashing down. Take care of the Dark Flayers? How? With what? Were they supposed to kill them all? No, that would take too long. Distracting them seemed more plausible. Yes, distractions! Sabatoge! Everything that one would immagine a resistance would do tenfold! They're band could do it easilly! A few sabatoge runs, and a surprise hit and run attack or two and the Illithid would be so confused that Jay would be able to slip anything past them! At least, that's what he thought. Prosper made a mental note to ask Tem about the level of concentration the Flayers needed to mind read.
The rouge repeated; "Yes, it won't be any trouble at all."

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"Not to interrupt or anything," Acedia piped up, "but how long is it until sunrise? The Disguise spell keeping this boy incognito wears off at first light." This nugget of information had just resurfaced again, and Acedia realized she had no idea how much time had passed since she and Prosper and Tem had gone into the airship. She had a poor sense of time as it was; being inside only magnified what would eventually become the "Supermarket Effect," where one goes into a well-lit, windowless store while it's still light out and emerges hours later to discover, much to one's surprise, that the sun has set. Acedia's having called Prosper a 'boy' (as opposed to 'young man') wasn't meant in a derogatory manner, either, even if he was, what, fifteen? Sixteen? Still only a little more than half her age.

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get LOST

Jay said: "Oh.. well, that may be a bit of a problem. See, the Drow have changed loclaised time so that the sun never comes up around here. It's perpetually midnight. That's because the Drow are sort of allergic to sunlight.. or something. Uh, I haven't really been able to get all the details as to the whys and wherefores behind that one yet, actually. So, if the Disguise you're under wears off when the sun comes up... you're kinda stuck with it... I think."

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"Well, er, that's reassuring, as far as being able to get back to our group goes," Acedia replied with a blink and a shrug, falling silent again. Michael should be able to reverse the spell, shouldn't he? she thought.

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<OOC> It's spelled that way in Tolkien's universe, though the system reference document I use for dnd spelled it with an 'a'. However, I would rather go with the Tolkien spelling, so I concede to your argument. </OOC>