" A great evil threatens to consume the world as you know it."

"How can I stop it?"

"It can be stopped, but not by you. Not alone. Build your strength now, for the coming months shall test your resolve."

"...Great."

/-/

The last thing he remembered was being attacked on the road. Some kind of elves - some two or three of them, skin like obsidian and stark white hair - ambushed him as he was walking. He did his best to fend them off; he even managed to take one of them down before they subdued him with some kind of sleep poison. When he next woke, he was bound with manacles, surrounded by a colorful group of humanoids. "...e's finally awake," said a woman's voice.

He shook the last of the sedative out of his system before looking around. He was in a prison cell of some kind, dimly lit by a lantern hanging just outside the bars, which cast the space in violet hues. The cell was little more than a carved-out section of cave, but it was ample enough to hold him and almost a dozen others. Granted those dozen were all shapes and sizes; he recognized a halfling, a dwarf, three or maybe four gnomes of some kind, a warforged, and even another of those elves. There was also a fishlike humanoid, a taller creature covered in fur, and a sentient mushroom among the ranks, though he didn't know the word for any of them. "You were out for some time," the dwarf spoke again. "Honestly, some of us thought you weren't going to wake up."

"I knew he'd pull through," one of the gnomes said with a smirk. "You worry too much, El."

"Yes," the elf scoffed, not moving his lips once, "another soul to share our last days with. A human, no less."

"Pessimist," the gnome retorted, seemingly unfazed by the remark. He turned back to the human. "Don't mind him; dark elves are all like that. You have a name?"

"Uh, Nathan," he replied, trying to gather himself. "My friends call me Nate."

"Well, Nate, you can call me Jimjar." He gestured to the dwarf woman. "This is Eldeth. She made sure nobody tried to hurt you while you were unconscious."

"It was no trouble," Eldeth said, working the shackles with a small metal pin. "You needed to rest, and we couldn't have Ront or Derendil trying to eat you."

"Eat me?" Nathan asked incredulously.

Jimjar shrugged. "The guards skipped feeding yesterday. They dragged you in and I guess they just... assumed."

"Well thank you, Eldeth. I owe you."

"Don't mention it," she insisted. "Though I fear it may not matter long."

"Why not?"

The halfling, a man in his later years with dark brown hair, spoke up. "The few of us who actually speak Elvish heard the guards talking," he explained. "We're going to be taken to the drow capital before long. It may be tomorrow, it may be a week from now, but we'll all be slaves by the end of the month."

"If you aren't made into spider food first," the warforged added. His voice was low and grainy, like a decades-old record being played through an ancient phonograph. He was covered with moss and patches of rust, and one of his luminous blue eyes remained dark. "Before you woke up, they dragged the orc from out of here and threw him over the edge."

Jimjar shook his head. "Poor Ront. Not even a bully deserves that kind of cruelty..."

"The same will probably happen to any of you if we cause any more of a disturbance." He shuddered, creaking as he did. "They'll most likely break me up for parts; while I'm alive, knowing the drow.

Nathan gulped. "So that's it then? We just wait for our fate to come to us?"

"Your fate," the fish man at the back of the cell finally spoke in a broken drawl, his voice raspy like he was constantly gasping for air though he, too, kept his mouth closed, "my fate, his, hers; fate is what fate is, but it need not be. No changing orc's fate, but maybe change your own?"

Eldeth, Jimjar, and Nate looked around the room before the gnome nodded. "Yeah, I think Shushar has the right idea. We've got enough of us here and cooperative to maybe bust out of here."

"I would agree," Eldeth said, "but Nathan was still recently sedated."

"Give me a day," Nate assured, "I'll be my old self again. We can use this time to plan."

"Need not," came a voice from the door. One of the drow guards stood in the previously empty space, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't alert any others. He seemed in bad shape, a lattice of scars covering one side of his face and two fingers missing from his right hand. "If I give chance to get out," he said, "you take it?"

"Jorlan Duskryn," the dark elf prisoner mused aloud. He spoke the same broken Common Shushar and this Jorlan did, but it came out in clear, full sentences to Nathan. "Finally upset about Ilvara's new favorite?"

Jorlan grit his teeth. "I come not just talk, murderer. Offering you friends escape."

"And making one or two assumptions while you're at it, apparently," Jimjar muttered.

"It probably isn't wise to alienate the one person trying to help us," the halfling said, "Especially considering our alternative options." He looked at Jorlan. "Go on."

The guard nodded and cleared his throat. "My shift end soon; will leave cell unlocked and attempt stall next. Will have few minutes. Go to armory across bridge." He pointed across the bridge to a large, hollowed-out stalactite that served its purpose as a tower. "Can jump there. Spiders' web slow fall - not stop - enough for survive."

"What's your angle?" Jimjar interrogated. "Drow don't do shit if they don't get anything out of it."

"No time. Must go now, if at all."

The prisoners all looked at each other, nodding in agreement. True to his word, Jorlan pulled the key from his belt and unlocked the door, but didn't open it himself before turning to leave. He held up three fingers - an indication of how long he would stall for, Nate figured. Once the drow was out of sight, the group proceeded two at a time out of the cell, starting with the smaller pair of gnomes. As soon as they were across the bridge, the beast called Derendil slunk his way over with the other unknown gnome.

Next was Nate. He looked out over the bridge, seeing the last pair waving him across. "So much for waiting to recover..." he muttered to himself.

Jimjar patted his side. "Don't worry, bud. Hey," the gnome looked at him, "I'll bet you five gold that we make it across without getting noticed."

"I'm not much for bets." A thought occurred, and he added, "Shushar and that dark elf don't speak Common, do they? How did I understand them?"

"Oh, you can thank Stool for that."

" 'Stool?' "

"The myconid. Little mushroom guy. They have spores that can let people communicate all in their minds, which helps when many of us don't speak the same language. I, El, Tin Man, and the ball of emotions that came with him all speak Common, but it wasn't until Stool came in that we could really understand the -"

Before either of them knew it, they were at the tower, and the inside was not a pretty sight. Derendil and one of the gnomes were unconcious on the floor - unexpected for a creature of Derendil's size - with multiple stab wounds. Three drow were currently fighting the two other small humanoids, who seemed pretty much unharmed. One of them, the leader by the look of him, looked up at Nate before shouting something in Elvish. The elf to his right waved his hand, and the entire room went completely dark. "...others."

A few more grunts in Elvish. Nate felt a sword just barely graze his shirt sleeve, and reflexively grabbed at the offender in the dark. He felt his hand gain purchase on a bit of fabric as he heard a low blast outside.

/-/

Arwrick peered out over the bridge. "Something's wrong," he reported.

["The guards threw the tower into darkness,"] the drow prisoner noted in Elvish. ["Not even a dark elf can see in or out for a period."]

"They know we're trying to escape," Stool said fidgeting.

The halfling nodded. "If those guards leave that post, all of Velkynvelve will be on us in an instant." As Arwrick said this, the elf pulled the lantern off the wall and threw it. The lamp collided with one of the guards on another bridge. It seemed the man was going for help. "Thanks for the light." He raised his hand, and a pulse of dark red energy flew from his palm towards the unlucky drow, who staggered from the impact. "Hm... Not enough."

The guard fired his crossbow in their direction, catching the halfling in the shoulder. He felt the sedative poison try to work its way through his system, but willed himself to remain concious as the drow continued running. "Vigil," he growled out, ripping the bolt out of his arm, "do you have anything for him?"

The warforged nodded. He whispered a word of prayer and a ball of light dropped from above the guard. The drow held his eyes in apparent pain before falling into the webs below. As far as the three or so giant spiders that appeared were concerned, dinner was served.

/-/

The guard broke away from Nate's grip as relative light returned to the room. Derendil lay still on the floor just next to the human, and one of the gnomes looked close to meeting the same fate. Now that he could see, he took a swing at the drow, who ducked expertly under the human's fist. One of the shorter gnomes pounced on the drow leader, trying to beat him with tiny fists to no avail. A burst of red energy narrowly missed Nate as it sailed past him and into the chest of the guard captain. "What in all Nine -?!"

As he spoke, he was interrupted by a horrible, droning buzz that filled the cavern, followed by a couple of sharp, inhuman shrieks. The two drow and one of the gnomes dropped to the floor clutching the sides of their heads as a group of what seemed like four mosquitoes the size of carriages flew past, being chased by crows with long, thin arms.

Nate remained standing, but only just; he felt like he could collapse at any second, the noise was so unbearably loud. "Gods," Jimjar exclaimed once the assault on everyone's ears began to subside, "what are those things?!"

"Whatever they are," Eldeth said, pushing past the two of them, "they're excellent cover. Come on, I saw the guards carry our things up here."

There was a scream, loud enough to be heard but almost drowned out by the cacophony that still filled the cave. The group turned around to watch the warforged throw one of the drow off the narrow staircase to the side of their former cell. "Response team's taken care of," Jimjar said as Shushar and Stool came across. He walked over and placed two fingers on Derendil's throat. "Big guy's dead. Buppido's not lookin' too good either." He looked up at Nate. "You know any healing magic?"

"No, but I think I can still do something." Nate stepped over Derendil to the gnome that must have been Buppido. He knelt down, tearing off bits of fabric from his shirt in an effort to staunch the bleeding. "That should do it. I hope..."

Nate rose back up as the halfling entered. "Change of plans, everyone," he said as another scream was heard outside. "We're jumping from the northern watchpost. Grab anything you need and -"

"Now just hold on you bossy bubble of gray," Jimjar interrupted, "since when are you the leader? Besides, Jorlan told us the webs were thin enough over here that we wouldn't die from the fall."

"I never declared myself the 'leader.' The location of the northern watchpost places it lower than the armory, which would make us even less inclined to die on impact with the pool. I've run the math through my head twice; you can check it if you want."

While the two of them argued, Nate went up the stairs after Eldeth. The armory wasn't much bigger than the room below, and every wall had raised shelves supporting chests made of some kind of wood. There was a table at one end supporting some kind of toolbag, and long coils of rope hung by hooks embedded in one wall. One of the shelves sat half-hanging broken on another, and Eldeth was rummaging through one of the now fallen trunks, muttering something in Dwarvish. "Need some help?" he offered.

Eldeth glanced up briefly. "Yes, actually. I'm certain my shield and hammer are in one of these chests. Can you help me look?"

"No problem." He opened one of the other chests and began to dig through it. Within, he found a suit of studded leather, a chain shirt, a shield, and some drow weapons. The shield seemed too slick and dark to be Dwarven, so he made no note of it to Eldeth. He did take it, however, along with the shortsword and chain armor, before moving on to the next chest. "So," he said, "what do you know about the others? Who are we escaping with, exactly?"

"I don't know very many details," Eldeth answered, shoving the box aside and reaching for another, "but I know the drow, Sarith, was accused of murder; nothing out of the ordinary there. Vigil, the warforged, he's a warrior-priest of the halfling god of vigilance; and no, Arwrick doesn't care in the slightest. Jimjar and the twins, Topsy and Turvy, are apparently from Blingdenstone, but I don't know much about them other than how Jimjar has a gambling problem. I think Stool is from Neverlight Grove? It's the only myconid colony I can think of. I don't know anything about Shushar or Buppido, though." She removed a sturdy-looking shield and warhammer from the chest. "There you are!"

Nathan stripped the remains of his shirt off and began to don the armor, his search evidently over. "And what about you?"

Eldeth strapped the shield to her arm. "I'm from Gauntlgrym, sort of the dwarven capital of Faerûn. I was on a scouting team mapping a path to Gracklstugh. The drow attacked my squad and killed everyone but me - I don't know why. Next I know, I'm in Velkynvelve cleaning the bastards' living quarters while I wait to be sent to the City of Spiders."

"Damn... sorry I asked."

"It's fine," she huffed. "I needed to get it out of my system. I was actually excited to come out this whole way, but this..." she began to wave when the horn began to blare. "Schist..."