RP:To Murder a Matron

...and cause all manner of chaos in Trist'oth.

Part of the Surface Tension Arc

Synopsis: Kovl, Gilwen and Skylei infiltrate Trist'oth during the Annual Drow Rugby Tournament. In illusionary disguise, Kovl and Gilwen appear as priestesses, whilst Skylei takes on the form of her nemesis Gevurah D'Artes. Interrupting a game between House Orbb Quar'Valsharess and House Stavret in a supposed thanksgiving to Vakmatharas, the infiltrators hand out charmed tokens to the audience, including the Matron of House Four. These tokens are activated by a spoken chant and cause all manner of chaos. Many drow, including Matron Obelven, are killed. In Obelven's death, a strange iron ring rumoured to be one of the Artefacts of the Shade is stolen away by an unknown drow whilst the Surface Allies attempt to escape aided by invisibility, fiery distractions and the misplaced anger of the drow towards the D'Artes House.

Meanwhile, the real Gevurah is oblivious to the chaos as she attends a meeting above the surface...

Entrance to the Underdark

The group had assembled at the break of dawn in Vailkrin. The entrance to the Underdark via the forest was, to Skylei’s knowledge, the least patrolled and thus, the best option for their infiltration. Naturally, in spite of the promise of illusionary disguises, Skylei wears black, ensuring that as little of her pale skin is visible. Should anything happen to compromise her disguise, she prays that this will be enough to see her back up to the ground. Over both shoulders, she carries several bags. In the bags are hundreds upon hundreds of tiny wooden tokens, each one inscribed painstaking by hand with a series of runes. Each token has a two pieces of black string attached; they’re obviously designed to be worn around a body part, be it a wrist or the neck. Once they have all arrives, Skylei would pass four of these tokens out; one to each member of her party. The tokens she hands amongst the elves and pixie have one difference however; they are without those inscribed runes. Skylei checks the tokens several times before hands them over. The tokens without runes would suffer to ill effect at the chant, unlike those that were carried in the bag. Skylei certainly doesn’t want to equip any of her own men with the ticking time-bombs. To each person who was to be disguised as a priest Skylei would hand a bag of these tokens with a series of instructions that they are to be handed out to each and every member of the attending audience at the rugby game. To Kovl, she offers a slight aside, “But not to the children, if that sits better with you.” As for the disguises themselves, Skylei would follow Kovl’s lead. If he wanted to disguise the part prior to the descent, she wouldn’t object. If he wanted to do it halfway down to the Underdark, Skylei was fine with that too. She might have something to say if he was willing to let them walk all the way down to the gates of Trist’oth looking like elves, but the pixie isn’t stupid.

Kovl nods as Skylei hands him his tokens. However, for all other parts of the plan, especially the explosion, the mage is growing more and more fond as time goes on. Mayhem, to Kovl, is like a finely constructed cake. Surprise is sweet. Confusion is delicious. A rather large chaos cake will be tossed in the face of an unsuspecting glob of victims today. It doesn't matter if people die as long as everyone is having fun... excluding the drow from the everyone-having-fun poll. No, the pixie will not be targeting children during this catastrophe. Children are the exception. The pixie inspects his tokens and places them in his bag. Kovl has already grown to human size and has opted to disguise the party as they near the entrance of the underdark. Skylei takes the form of Gevurah (an imperfect Gevurah as the only image the pixie had to work with was from Skylei's memories). Gilwen and Kovl take the forms of priestesses with no specific resemblance to a living drow. Yes, you read that right. Kovl is appearing as female. Drow are somewhat of a mystery to the pixie although he assumes females are more likely to be religious leaders than males. There's no need to go out of the ordinary more than the party already is. The pixie has already taken time to imbue special earrings for the three to wear or hold which power the images like batteries, holding the three's form in place with no extra strain on the pixie's arcane magic, freeing him to use spells on the fly if needed. Kovl ties the illusions to the member's limbs and joints to ensure the images move in sync with the wearers. The pixie nods again to the two, indicating the illusions are ready.

Nervousness flooded the elven leader’s frame, leading to jittery movements and the incapability to remain still; the venture into the Underdark unnerved her, and potential failure had a constant prayer to Lauria running on loop through her mind as she approached the group that had gathered for the mission. She had prayed to her small home shrine for hours that morning, going through the rituals and chants, and left offers to her Goddess to inspire blessing for herself and her people. It was only once Gilwen was given the unmarked tokens, and the sack of marked ones, that the nerves subsided, albeit minutely- her hands didn’t tremble, and she found it easier to remain in one spot. The item she received from Kovl was carefully threaded through the hole in her lobe, and she spoke only after the illusion was tacked onto her body: “I look stupid.” Her gaze raked over Skylei’s illusion thereafter, and noted, that while not one hundred percent like the original, it would be close enough so long as someone didn’t openly study the mock Gevurah. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

The journey down into the earth is long. Skylei busies herself with teaching the party the details of the chant. High Sylvan isn’t the most intuitive of languages, and so she relies on Gilwen to assist with the teaching. Once that has been learnt she moves onto the basic drow phrases. These are ‘Yes’, ‘No’, ‘Get out of my way’ and ‘Praise Vakmatharas!’. Skylei thinks that these will suffice. Other topics of conversation include; routes out of the Underdark, drow culture and behaviour and a discussion to attempt to ascertain exactly what this ‘rugby’ thing was. She only pauses when Kovl indicates it is time for them to take on their disguises. She would do as she was told whilst the pixie worked his magic and, once the disguise is done, pushes the earring into place in her ear. Once disguised as Gevurah and having ensured that the disguise would stay in place, Skylei attaches her own token around her neck. It sits prominently against the hollow of her throat and she would adjust her clothing to ensure that it was on prominent display. She wishes, for only a few seconds that she had brought a mirror and could examine her own, clearly hideous appearance. As it is, she can only admire her own hands. Flipping them back and forth, Skylei admires her newly drow-ed skin. “You look stupid? I look disgusting.” She pulls a face and then catches Kovl’s eye, “Which is to say that you’ve done a fantastic job.” The smile she offer Kovl is more of a smirk drawn across the drowess’ features. This is the last she speaks in common. Once they draw into Trist’oth, Skylei would opt for silence. The streets are busy packed with drow attending their day to day business, but the group do not have to push their way through. Like magic, the sea of drow parts for ‘Gevurah’ and her company. It’s of little matter that the illusion is imperfect as most of the commoners avert their gaze from the First Daughter of House D’Artes as soon as they lay eyes on her. A scarce few nobles dare greet ‘Gevurah’ with a nod but those are few and far between. Skylei for her part, chooses not to make eye contact and simply marches down the street with purpose in her step, even if she’s not entirely sure where she’s going. On their right they would pass the horrendously imposing Trist’oth Fort, then the equally overbearing presence of House D’Artes. Finally, the gates of the Arena appear, surrounded by people. It is here that the half-elf takes her first pause and looks to her comrades. In a muttered undertone she would ask “Are you ready?” Once they have consented, she enters.

Kovl raises his brows as he scans Gilwen's new appearance. "You don't look stupid. Thank you very much," he says matter-of-factly. His now-feminine face has a smile plastered all over it, indicating the poor pixie is not actually offended at Gilwen's words. Skylei's addition to Gilwen's complaint only makes Kovl laugh which must have looked hilarious, considering it is a male's voice coming from a female drow. It's hard to offend the pixie, especially if he -knows- his work is good. And boy, it is good. Kovl saved the best, most attractive disguise for himself, and he is sure to show it as he struts his new stuff while they travel to the rugby event. Kovl follows closely behind Skylei as his eyes scan the crowd. A brief glimpse of surprise crosses the priestess' face. He didn't know -this- many drow attended such an event, and the chant is no longer possibly going to kill people. It -will- kill people. There's no possible way everyone is going to leave this arena alive. Kovl takes pride in his artwork as others greet Skylei by Gevurah's name. The pixie places the unmarked token around his neck and then indicates to Skylei that he is ready. He gives another quick scan to the crowd around him, and the familiar rush of adrenaline powers through his veins.

Gilwen had, in time with Skylei, also draped the token around her neck and tucked it within the collar of her dark clothing before starting off down the tunnel. Here and there, the elder spoke up to fix the pronunciation of a word to be used for the chant, but for the most part, she remained silent. As they approached the city of Trist’oth, the nerves Gilwen had before came crawling back like an old friend, but her hands remained still, and her features never changed from the glowering stoic expression she habitually wore. Moving through the streets, she carefully glanced around her surroundings, the illusion’s face unperturbed, and in case something should go amiss during the operation, she wanted to map out the fastest means of escape for herself and the group. Once they had arrived at the arena, Gilwen inclined her head in an almost unperceivable nod, her mouth opening just enough to murmur, “Let’s go.”

Trist'oth Arena

Skylei nods at her two ‘priestesses’ before passing through the gates of the Arena. If Kovl thought there were a lot of people outside, he should see just how many people are in here. Today’s match is between House Orbb Quar'Valsharess, Trist’oth’s fourth house and House Stavret, the fifth house and the crowd is already growing rowdy. Whilst there is no sign of Patron Kuzial of House Stavret, the Matron of the Fourth House sits within clear view of the group as they enter. Skylei’s mouth is drawn into a line and she attempts to walk into the centre of the Arena as though her stomach and legs don’t feel like they are entirely made of jelly. The sight of the daughter of the First House at such an event is enough to pull the crowd into a near silence. Once she reaches the centre she announces in her best drow, and in her best Gevurah voice, “We will be having a service of thanks giving for our great god Vakmatharas. The Priestesses will hand out the tokens.” There is a significant deal of eyerolling from a large proportion of the crowd. Another thanksgiving? What gives Gevurah the right to interfere when it is not even her house involved in the days Rugby game? But no one objects. Who would dare? Gevurah gets away with more than your average High Priestess on several merits; she is Keter’s daughter and under the watchful eye of the Archmage, Tiphareth. Who knows, that same Archmage could be watching them right now… Skylei would wait in the centre of the arena for the tokens to be distributed and for her friends to join her in the centre of the arena.

Kovl's mind is in go-mode right now. He's in the on-with-the-show mentality. Instead of pondering the impact of the mission the three have set out to complete, he focuses on how fun it will all be. A huge smile crosses the face of the priestess as she waves and and offers silent greetings at the salivating males and jealous females, so excited to see the rugby game of the year. Kovl is sure the males were salivating and the females were jealous. There's no way they couldn't be. Kovl is so beautiful. The priestess chuckles silently to herself and hands the tokens to the patrons of the rugby game as they approach her. If anyone were to engage her in conversation, she would only nod and smile, shoving the token in their hand and motioning to move on for the next person in line. The pixie wonders if the real Gevurah is in the crowd. If so, the crowd shows no sign of it. Not yet. They better do their job quickly in case she -is- in the crowd.

Gilwen, as soon as the announcement had been made, began to move about, passing out the rune carved tokens to grumbling ruby goers. Just a few times, a woman or man shook his head, but Gilwen narrowed her eyes and stated the drow word she had learned for ‘yes’, which took away their options of declining the trinket. She openly ignored the children that had asked for such tokens, and few parents informed their children they didn’t need one, while to Gilwen’s horror, a few more parents gave the tokens to their offspring. Not wanting to cause a scene regarding the transferring of tokens in case questions were asked that she wouldn’t be able to answer, the elven elder merely made sure that those empty-handed parents were given another before moving on to the next. Only once her bag was emptied, she returned to ‘Gevurah’s’ side in the center of the arena, looking everywhere and nowhere all at once.

Fortunately the real Gevurah D’Artes is not in the crowd. She’s off doing bratty noble business and wouldn’t be seen dead at a game between such lowly houses. Gevurah gives out only one token. She makes a beeline for the matron of house four knowing that, a matron would likely only take a token from a fellow noble. The matron is sat in prime position for witnessing the action, though she is obscured from most vision by a glorious cowl covering her head and face. The half elf holds out her hand with a token in place, “For you” she utters in best Gevurah fashion. The matron eyes ‘Gevurah’s’ own token before she accepts. Once she had accepted, Skylei turns away and returns to the centre of the Arena. She subconsciously edges a little closer to the arena exit as they come back together. Once the group is reassembled, Skylei would begin the chanting, hoping that they would join her. Chanting is nothing unusual in drow worship and so the audience would only realise that something was wrong once the chant had reached its conclusion. Those tokens that had been handed out by Kovl and Gilwen were activated by the chant itself. Each would begin burning against the flesh or clothing that they were pressed against. If the burning didn’t do enough damage, there were metal shards fragmented and contained within the original wooden tokens. These shards would be forced within the skin, severing arteries, cutting flesh from bone and leaving the entire arena a bloodbath. Dependant on whether the token had been attached around the wrist or the neck, would depend on the level of the damage. Some drow are dead instantly, other will bleed out in a matter of minutes. The Matron of House Four is amongst this group. Her neck is a mess of severed blood vessels and, as her head falls limp, the cowl falls from place. Bouncing from the floor of the arena, it transfigured into a plain iron ring before Skylei’s eyes. Still, she has little time to stare. The most dangerous group of those who have not sustained such life threatening injuries and those drow now have their sight set on the treacherous group. Skylei hopes that Kovl and Gilwen are ready to run…

Escape from the Arena

Kovl did indeed notice those few parents who gave their children their tokens, but the pixie cannot be thinking about that right now. His scruple-switch has been turned off the moment they entered the arena. With a smile, Kovl finishes distributing the death trinkets and approaches Skylei with Gilwen, ready to very appropriately start a service in the name of the god of death. The pixie joins in the chant, but those with an acute ear would notice that something is not quite right about the chant, even before the tokens began burning flesh. A male's voice from a woman is not the most subtle of hints something is amiss. The pixie's eyes brighten in glee as mouths gape in horror as they realize the treachery. It's not the pain or the death that enthuses Kovl. No, the pixie will probably feel some sense of guilt for that later. It's the confusion. The misguided assumptions about -who- is doing the horrible deed. Kovl feels like a kid reveling in his hiding place in the clothing rack of a store while the parents frantically search for their offspring. As the three conclude the chant, Kovl's gaze snaps to Skylei and Gilwen. He is tempted to make the three invisible to the crowd but thinks better of it. That would ruin the illusion. And now that he thinks of it, would his male voice have ruined the illusion as well? Would the drow suspect someone other than themselves have committed this act of war? Maybe not, he thinks as they plan their escape. Tons of women have guyish voices. Tons of women have colds. And only the closest victims most likely heard his voice coming from this body. This plan will work. It has to work. The drow have to believe other drow did this. Kovl looks at Skylei, ready to flee.

Gilwen stood beside Kovl with the intention in mind to drown out his voice with the chant due to the manly undertones to it as well as the mispronounced words; it would work for those further from the group, who could only hear the dull tone of their less than musical chant, and those closest would, no doubt, hear the baritones of Kovl’s voice. But, within a matter of time, those closest would be dead or next to death, so it ultimately didn’t matter. Soon enough, the cacophony of screams perforated through their drow words, the cries of surprise, anguish and pain distorted by the echo provided by the arena. As soon as the Matron had been slaughtered, Gilwen marveled in the way her head had lolled forward, causing the cowl to fall and transform, and just briefly, she wondered if she could retrieve the trinket before making her getaway. However, the acknowledgement that some drow had not received injuries to render death upon them had her looking immediately to Kovl and Skylei before jerking her attention to those who could manage to give chase. She didn’t wait for words, instead, she immediately began running for the exit.

The sounds in the arena are overpowering. There are screams, shouts, wails and a cacophony of complete and utter chaos. Skylei doesn’t think twice either, she just runs after Gilwen, hoping that the pixie has the sense to follow them. The further away from the arena they can get the quicker, the better it will be for all of them. Out of the corner of her eye, she might spy one of the few drow who had suffered with minimal injuries dash out into the arena and grab at the iron circlet. He would quickly disappear into the chaos. Skylei and co. wouldn’t get far before the first retaliation took place. Two of the drow guards blast concentrated pulses of energy at the retreating group, designed to blow the traitors to pieces. Soon after the initial assault from the mages a volley of arrows would rain down and the charge of several warriors followed close behind. Inter-house rivalry and destruction wasn’t uncommon by any stretch of the imagination; but this was something quite unprecedented; and involved the murder of a matron. House five were outraged; house four was far beyond that.

Kovl chases after Gilwen as she leads the retreat toward the way they had discussed earlier. Still adrenaline rushes through the pixie's veins as he curses to himself the inconvience of being so big and of having to use his legs. Wings are so much better. Pixies are so much better. As the three leave the arena hall, a quick incantation is muttered under his breath and an illusionary wall of dirt shoots from the earth only inches behind them to cut off the mages and guards from pursuing. However, the wall does not stop the onslaught of arrows or arcane energy directed toward them. Kovl, as a pixie who has to dodge even the simplest of swats to survive in his normal form, is quick to react, diving forward and rolling to avoid the first blast of energy. The second is shot over his head. Kovl lets out a scream as two arrows pierce his flesh as he stumbles back to his feet. One arrow hits the back of his shoulder while the other splits through the muscles in his right calf. The pixie stays concentrated on keeping the wall up, but angry guards stand on the other end. It would only be a few more seconds before the guards realize the wall is illusionary and begin piling through it.. How else would an arcane missile fire through a dirt wall? Knowing that for this split second, he is out of sight from the guards, he cancels the magic which keep him man-sized. A poof brings the pixie to his standard six inches tall, and while still disguised as a priestess, his invisible wings carry him as quickly as he can to Skylei's shoulder as he tries to find a pocket to duck into. A pulse of magical energy flows through his arm as he quickly reaches into a pouch and tosses it on Skylei, himself, and Gilwen, rendering them invisible to the naked eye before he collapses on Skylei's shoulder. The pixie clutches onto her clothing as the illusionary wall blinks out of existence, leaving many angry drow in its wake.

Gilwen had prepared herself for this moment, the moment that certain retaliation would occur, and came prepared. Drow weren’t ones to manipulate the environment to their needs in a magical way, or so she had assumed- she definitely never heard of a druidic drow, and doubtfully ever would. So, it was with that frame of mind that she had armed herself with seven throwing knives, which was the extent she could comfortably, and safely strap to herself, and made sure to sheath her twin daggers to her hips. The moment the guards at the entrance moved to send the pulse of energy, deft fingers retrieved a knife, and a second later it had settled in the breast bone of the guard on the right. Following the flung weapon, Gilwen followed suit of Kovl and rolled, but the displaced air, and the ultimately strength of the energy pulse, sent the elder sprawling and, immediately after, scrabbling to get to her feet. It was in that moment that bowstrings sounded with the release of arrows, and she found herself more lucky than Kovl, considering only penetrated deep within the muscle of her left thigh, while others whizzed past, merely nicking flesh here and there. As soon as Kovl released the spell keeping him the size of a human, which was covered by the onslaught of arrows, but not missed, given the sudden lack of one of the priestesses, Gilwen was clawing free another blade to take out the second guard. However, the sudden invisibility provide, which prompted sudden cries to shut down the city, caused a moment of hesitation, which led to the knife’s trajectory to be altered and embedded itself within the stomach of the second guard; not a for sure death, but a slow and painful one if not given immediate aid, for sure. Rather than voice the thought screaming through her head, Gilwen merely shoved at Skylei, hoping she wasn’t too injured to escape. If only Gilwen could claim the ability to transform into a monster of the Underdark, this escape might go a little smoother.

Skylei had prepared in a similar way to Gilwen. Armed to the teeth with throwing knives, the ranger had chosen to forgo her usual bow and instead rely on her arm and her magical ability. She too throws a single knife at the oncoming guard, hitting him square in the chest but is left with only seconds to avoid the high powered energy blast. She doesn’t have the luck, or sense, of Kovl and Gilwen and is knocked completely off balance by that blast. Thrown to the floor, her left leg is newly bloody and burnt by the energy pulse. It leaves her skin raw and pulsing, but Skylei is running on pure adrenaline and thus is able to ignore the pain, at least for now. The only blessing is that the dust of the arena floor is brought up into a frenzied whirlwind and that magical wall of dirt that obscures them from the sight of the drow for enough time for Skylei to pull herself back up to her feet. As magic and arrows continue to pelt through Kovl’s magical wall, Skylei sends through a couple of her own missiles. Unfortunately a couple of knives do little to quell the forces of the furious warriors, mages and archers. It is at that moment that Skylei feels a queer sensation come upon herself. Looking down, she sees nothing and realises that Kovl has worked another feat of magic. Newly invisible, and with Kovl newly tucked into her pocket, Skylei continues to panic. Covering her mouth, so that her breathing would be less palpable, she would attempt to creep her way up the street just as the drow guards destroy the illusionary wall and pile out onto the street. With nowhere to go, Skylei presses herself back up against the wall of one of the drow buildings and attempt to set some of the wooden shutters on fire; another distraction method. They needed to get out of the city fast, before the guards get to the gates and block off every exit out of the city. Skylei takes a right, choosing to avoid the paths that lead to the D’Artes house. It seems likely that there’ll be a riot outside there by now.

Kovl clutches tightly to Skylei's clothing, howling in pain. "Come on, come on, come on!" He urges Skylei to move as the three run from the pursuing force. He blinks in disbelief as Skylei detours from their escape route in order to cause distraction. "Over here!" He cries, hoping that Gilwen is within earshot of his now-tiny voice. He cannot take the risk that the invisibility the pixie dust provides works against them. The sharp pain rising from his shoulder and calf make it very difficult for the pixie to think. "Don't lose her. Don't lose her," Kovl directs his whisper to Skylei. The pixie closes his eyes, still not privy to Skylei's plan, but he tries to clear his mind of pain enough to pay attention if his abilities will be needed. After taking a breath, Kovl opens his eyes again, scanning for threat as his teeth are gritted in pain.

The invisibility that Kovl provided managed two things: one, shielding the seemingly renegade group, and two, causing an unnerving separation. Gilwen remembered from her run in with the actual Gevurah how seemingly sensitive to magic she was, and it was that mere memory that left her unsure whether it had just been an isolated incident, or if the entire race as a whole could sense magic; but with each passing second that Skylei and Kovl could neither be seen nor heard, panic mounted higher and higher within her chest. With the streets flooding with drow civilians and militia, the elder sought to tuck herself within a thin alleyway that offered no backdoor escape, thus giving her ample time to take stock of the damage she had taken. The spell that washed over her with the pixie dust left it increasingly hard to effectively work, but each large puncture was noted, the flow of blood studied, and finally, black material was ripped from her tunic and stuffed around the shaft of the bolt, flush against her skin, and tied tightly with thick strands of leather binding which she kept on her person at all times, for multiple reasons. The nick at her side, which was superficial in her mind, bled more than she had actually expected it to, and that, too, was met with a wad of cloth and a band of leather that she tied around her waist. Before leaving the small alleyway entirely, she snapped the shaft of the arrow and tossed the lengthy piece aside, leaving but a small nub of wood protruding from the makeshift bandage she had created; if someone brushed past her and came in contact with the arrow’s fletching end, it would ultimately cause more damage, Gilwen wouldn’t be able to stifle the pain, and she’d be found out. She didn’t want to take that chance, nor did she care to be given away by the trailed blood from her wounds, hence the emergency bandaging. As she escaped back onto the main street, the elder looked around, eyes hungry for any sign of Skylei or Kovl. There was a fire a few establishments down, and militia men and women were shoving their way through the crowded streets in two directions: toward the house of D’Artes, and the fire itself. Common sense told the elf that the other half of her party did not, in fact, brave the crowd outside of the First house, and so she quickly hobbled down the street, managing to clumsily dodge people in the process; twice, she had to hug a building to avoid being touched. As soon as the elder approached the burning building, whose shutter, wall and awning was ablaze, Gilwen realized that perhaps this particular direction had been wrong as well; drow were crawling around the building, looking for the cause of the fire. It was, at this point, considered useless to hunt for Skylei and Kovl, and carefully, she began making her way back toward the exit, but due to the volume of people who crawled like ants through the street, Gilwen’s attention fixed to the fire that was hurriedly being extinguished by drow who shielded their eyes from the blaze. It was in that moment that the elder realized that years of darkness must lead them to experience excruciating pain at a source of life. So, with a few murmured words and a flourish of hands, the fire exploded as if met with fuel, and light flooded the vicinity as flames jumped from the source to light on three nearby buildings and start four more fires. While drow shrieked in pain and fumbled around the streets trying to a reprieve from the light, Gilwen shouted the four phrases Skylei had taught her; it was preferable to using the common tongue or their mother tongue, and Gilwen could only hope that Skylei understood the strange mix of language and either followed the source, or understood that Gilwen was fine.

As new-born fires light on the surrounding buildings Skylei looks around, keen to find exactly what the source is. There is no logical reason that her fire would have spread to the surrounding buildings; unless her pyromanical prowess has developed in ways she simply cannot fathom… That aside, she suspects Gilwen’s involvement, especially as the bright light from the fire makes even the half-blood cringe after hours traversing the dark. She can only imagine the agony for the drow that seek to cast their eyes from the blazes whilst also desperately attempting to extinguish them. That is when the sound of Gilwen permeates the air and reaches Skylei and Kovl. A ranger, she’s used to tracking noises and thus in spite of the hubbub that they’ve found themselves in, she attempts to pinpoint Gilwen’s location. Those four phrases spoken in somewhat broken drow (though Skylei is impressed by Gilwen’s pronunciation) alert her to the fact that the druid is not far away. To Kovl, Skylei would whisper “She’s nearby. Cover your ears” Kovl better listen because Skylei shouts back in a voice to rival thunder, “Yes! Praise Vakmatharas! No! Get out of my way!” The final phrase is shouted repeatedly. In streets filled with drow, she attempts to drive a narrow path down the centre to make her way back across the street and to Gilwen. She can only hope that there are so many drow in the street and their sight is so damaged by the bright lights that they do not realise that the big voice comes from a very invisible half-elf. Still invisible, she presses her way up to where she thinks Gilwen is, patting at her with invisible hands. It’s probably a vastly uncomfortable experience for them both as Skylei pats the elder’s face in order to ascertain her location (it’s accidental and a very plausible side-effect of invisibility). Still, now she knows where the elder is, she tries to express an escape route. She presses her head towards where she thinks the elf’s ear is, gets a mouthful of hair, and then mutters. “The tunnels that lead into Craughmoyle are our safest bet. I don’t dare pass the D’Artes House.” If only they weren’t invisible, Kovl, Gilwen and a hoard of drow would be witness to Skylei’s puce face; invisibility is a blessing. Drow mercenaries, mages and archers are now pouring down on the street, seeking to quell the flames and relocate the traitors. It is long past time to leave. “Once we get out of the gates and into the caves, turn us visible again. Save your strength” Sky murmurs to Kovl. She had seen his injuries and, knowing the size of the pixie, she is concerned. Her own leg too is throbbing and raw, and Skylei leaves behind a tiny blood trail wherever she walks. Careful footing and silence will be their friends from this point onwards; that is, if the drow don’t follow the blood trail she leaves behind as she leads the group towards the gate…

Kovl grits his teeth as he now deals with the agony of the rough journey, holding back a howl at every step Skylei makes. Stupid walking. Stupid running. Ow, ow, ow! Why can't she grow wings and fly? Kovl, though he is by no means new to combat, relies heavily on his ability to dodge whatever is thrown his way. The mage's body is not meant to take hits like this. At least the excitement from the madness dulls the pain. The adrenaline is like a drug, and the pixie is an addict. They did it! But now they need to get away! Kovl's eyes keep dancing to the fire that spreads throughout the building. A small smile crosses his face as he watches the drows' reactions to what happened in the stadium and the looks of confusion of those investigating the flames. The pixie's keen ears do pick up Gilwen's call, but he is not able to make sense of it, nor does he immediately realize that it is from her. It doesn't take long for Kovl to suspect Gilwen is in front of them when Skylei pauses. The invisible pats and small relief in Skylei's voice are hints enough. To Skylei's escape plan, Kovl nods though none see him. "Can you walk?" He whispers, intending the question to be to both of them. Kovl's eyes do not leave the guards and mages who are frantically looking for Gevurah, the traitor, and though he is physically weak, the pixie has plenty of tricks in his pouch to aid escape. There's no one better to have than an illusionist when on the run. Kovl will be sure to prove that to these elves.

In the seconds the return call was heard, Gilwen began shuffling toward the source and was met almost halfway by Skylei’s hands along her face; the aspect of invisibility granted Gilwen just enough patience to calmly reach up and take hold of the halflings wrists, but the strange sensation of the woman’s mouth rooting though her hair caused the druid to jerk her head back to free the strands caught between Skylei’s lips. “How do we get to those tunnels then?” Gilwen asked, her own voice lowered into a whisper while invisible eyes watched the Underdark burn before their eyes. “Kovl, I’ll fix you up when we get to relative safety,” she said as an aside, having assumed the fae was still nestled within the collar of Skylei’s shirt; the least she could do would be to staunch the blood flow and numb the pain, but any long lasting healing would have to be done above ground in absolute safety. It was after her promise to patch up the pix that his question concerning their walking abilities had been heard, and she nodded in answer before remembering the fact that her nod would have gone unseen. “Yes, we can walk.” Thereafter, Gilwen hitched her arm through Skylei’s to avoid losing the elf again, but attention remained fixed to the fires that burned and the drow that fought to extinguish; it would take a while for flames to die down into smoldering, skeletal buildings, so there lacked a need to exasperate the chaos further. Gilwen only hoped that the tunnels leading to the Dwarven city were near-by; she would hate to have to hunt for the exit in darkness once they ventured far enough from the blinding fire.

There is no choice but to walk; and it is a long walk. Longer than the walk down from Vailkrin the tunnels that lead up to Carughmoyle are long, pitch black and likely fraught with dangers of all sorts. Fortunately, the vast majority of the drow that are present descend on the burning buildings from the direction of the arena, but Gilwen and Skylei are still forced to dodge and sidestep a couple of lone drow that head down the streets towards them. It would only be a few minutes before they reached the entrance to their escape. There are only two guards on the gates and, with the group still invisible, it is easy for them to disappear into the tunnels unseen. The sounds of commotion back in the centre of Trist’oth echo around the cavernous tunnels which seem to have been abandoned, at least by drow. Every so often there are noises in the distance which make Skylei jump; but none ever sound close enough that the group should be immediately worried. A few minutes into the tunnel, Skylei would stop and clutch at the back of her leg. Though unscathed by arrows, the bleed from the back of her leg is yet to be stanched and she is quickly losing blood. Indeed, she is starting to feel somewhat lightheaded; a light wobble in her step, combined with a limp and fuzziness across her visage are the first signs that she is likely to faint if she doesn’t do something to quell the stream soon. “Kovl, can you take off the enchantment? I can’t tell what’s making me feel funny; the blood loss or the invisibility.” She laughs, but it is immediately obvious that it is forced. She’s not going to walk out of this tunnel easily.

Kovl twitches his wings immediately at Skylei's request, pulling himself out of her pocket and lifting himself in the air. Planting a hand against her shoulder, Kovl dispels her invisibility, revealing Gevurah's face once again to the other two. Kovl searches for Gilwen, and after quickly finding her, offers to remove the effects of the pixie dust, and should she accept, he pulls her out of it. The tiny pixie makes himself visible. The pygmy arrows jutting from Kovl's frame like toothpicks are now painfully apparent, and though a smile is planted on his face, his skin has turned deathly pale. "I can make you float, Skylei. Gilwen will have to pull you, but you wouldn't be much heavier than an empty bag. Although you do know you both look like those drow traitors still, right?" The pixie's voice rings from a tiny priestess' body. He lets out a chuckle. Kovl drifts to land on the tunnel dirt and leans back, carefully resting his leg to the side and letting the length of the arrows not touch any other surface. He fails as he turns his body to see the blood seeping from Skylei's leg. The arrow in the back of his shoulder brushes the wall, and the pixie lets out a yelp. Thinking better of this position, Kovl takes flight once again, hovering between the two 'priestesses'.

Gilwen carefully threaded through the streets and around the drow who sought to help stop the fires, if only because it would pose a threat to their own homes and businesses. As soon as Skylei guided them into the tunnels that led to Craughmoyle and they had put enough distance between the city of Trist’oth and themselves, Gilwen stopped along with the Halfling and her pixie passenger. When she regained visibility, she stood still a moment and merely blinked, as if the transition had given her vertigo. Once she was clear headed and comfortable in her own visible skin, she turned to the injured half-elf. “Let me see your leg,” she demanded, forgoing attention to her own injury to ensure that Skylei could keep going; Gilwen could carry the woman out, if Kovl was to make her float, but she honestly didn’t want to. Instead, the elder sought to slow the blood loss by using another cord of leather binding she had about her person- after today’s excursion, she decided that four strands just might not be enough. Tourniquet tied and a silent prayer lifted to Lauria for strength and the ability for all three to return to the surface alive and well, Gilwen placed her palm over Skylei’s wound. There, a slow expansion of warmth radiated and seeped down into the muscle before retreating entirely; left in the place of the heat was a numbness that dull all sensation to the wound’s site. “I can’t heal you until we get back to the surface, and safe.” Healing both Skylei, Kovl and herself would take time she didn’t think they had. Next she moved to Kovl, her hand outstretched for the pixie to light upon. He too, would receive similar treatment, but after scrutinizing the wounds of the fae, and their current size, she elected for a quick, but shoddy, regeneration. Enough was done to ensure that the bleeding stopped and the sites numbed as well, but the arrows remained in his tiny figure. “I don’t want to cause further injury by pulling them out,” she explained quickly before turning to address the arrow numb sticking from her own thigh. A few moments later, and the entire party would be capable of walking to the surface without the unbearable discomfort of their wounds. But that’s assuming a monster didn’t file into the tunnel through one of the many offshoots. Nobody had time for that.

Gilwen’s right; ain’t nobody got time for monsters running through the tunnels and causing trouble all crazy like. Fortunately, that isn’t going to happen. With visibility restored, earring removed, normal appearance reassumed and leg successfully tourniqueted, it is a straightforward, if not particularly easy uphill climb out of the Underdark. There is only one problem; as the group go to leave, Skylei could swear she sees a drow out of the corner of her eye. Tall, male and dressed in all black (of course; he is a drow after all), he lingers in her visage for only a few moments before disappearing into the depths of the cave behind them. Perhaps she is hallucinating. Perhaps he didn’t see them. Perhaps he didn’t care to chase them with drow-blood traitors supposedly running around Trist’oth. Perhaps, but Skylei can’t be certain. She chooses not to worry the illusionist and druid and, as such, the escape is mostly uneventful from this point onwards. Once they reach the surface, Skylei would insist that the trio go their separate ways; Gilwen will go to Frostmaw, Skylei to Cenril and Kovl to Xalious. The ‘Gevurah D’Artes’ earring is entrusted back to the pixie, in the hope that he will destroy it in a sensible way so that there is less evidence to tie the group to Trist’oth. Skylei asks Gilwen that she inform the council of their success and of her intention to travel up to Frostmaw as soon as safe. Kovl is given a hug; as best as one can hug a pixie that is less that the size of your hand. Safe, home and moderately unscathed. At least for now.