The Wilderness

"What are they up to?" Stella murmurs. Why was everyone they've come across except Bently so shady?! Looking over her shoulder, she waves some fingers.

Hoohooooo!! The sharp cry of a loud, possibly sick owl comes from the trees past the figure.
(Stella casts Minor Illusion)

Hopefully that would draw the attention of the guards in that direction and cause them to notice the escaping figure. She did not want to be ambushed again.

Stella secretly celebrates the soldiers noticing the figure, then watches horrified as chaos ensues.

So much for being clever...

"They're probably escaping out the back of the darkness!" Stella reasons to the other, probably more competent, party members, in case any of them want to help. Anything else she tried would probably just make things worse at this point.

She rushes to the front of the wagon to try and calm the horses in a tongue that enlightens their minds. "Steady there! It's just a bit of...trouble. But they're handling it!" I hope.

(Stella casts Speak with Animals.)

Aiwë's eyes narrow at the outcry. When she had asked the guard if the fugitive was dangerous, he only said the fugitive was drow, like nothing else mattered. Might have well said the fugitive was orcish.

"Cousin!" she calls in Elvish. "Quickly, why are you hunted?"

As soon as the veil of darkness goes up, Calliope runs forward to get closer to the cloud. "Give us a lift, hmm?" she whispers to the air around her, and it responds, catching her flared wings and lifting her up above the black cloud for at least a few moments. (Calliope casts Updraft).

From up here, it doesn't matter where the drow fugitive is. If they're using the sphere to cover an escape, she'll see which direction they leave it; and if they stay in the cloud much longer, they'll be hit by a stray arrow and lose concentration on the darkness itself. As a bit of an afterthought, a small bird of fire coalesces onto Calliope's shoulder up in the sky. If this ends up being a hunt, the more hunters the merrier.

Aiwë decides. She turns to bang her club against her shield to remind their prisoners that this is not the time to escape, and beneath the guise with her back to the mercenaries she casts a spell.

"You are fools to hunt a Drow in the night!" The drow woman laughs distantly from a direction Aiwë is pretty sure she didn't actually go. "I am the shadows!"

Aiwë casts Minor Illusion to mislead the Flaming Fists as far away from them as possible.

Calliope is about to reveal the position of the drow, when a few things occur to her in sequence, thanks to Aiwe's cry and further attempts to distract.
First, that Aiwe is probably too quick to call potential enemies a part of her family. Her welcoming nature could definitely put her in danger.

Secondly, that she knows of someone who had a similar problem; her mom has told her in that odd mix of fondness and complete exasperation of Flureth's escapades involving Raven, the current Queen of the Rats of Waterdeep. Those impulsive decisions had ultimately led to someone being saved, a decent person who had been just caught and trapped with the wrong crowd, and by extension helped improve Waterdeep.

Sure, Raven was basically always on the wrong side of the law, but... so was her dad and his previous apprentice a fairly decent amount of the time too. If her dad had taught her anything, it was that sometimes something illegal was what needed to be done. Or what was right. And what also happened to be more exciting sometimes.

And thirdly and finally, that wherever the decision she was about to make leads, it'll hopefully be right, and will certainly be more interesting than the alternative.

Calliope drifts towards the ground, readying herself to rapidly make use of yet more magic. She mentally commands the firebird to stay in the air above the caravan.

A whisper, and her wings and body drip with a dark translucency. A twist of a hand, and with unusual restraint, she steps though space without her typical fare of flurrying feathers.

Directly beneath the same wagon as the drow.

A quiet, Elvish whisper asks, "Hiya! Care to tell us what you're hiding for?"

(Calliope casts Pass Without Trace, and then uses Autumn Fey Step to teleport and hide beneath the wagon. Drow Fugitive must make a DC13 Wis save or be charmed. She is also hiding and currently including the drow in her choice of creatures for Pass Without Trace to affect).

Calliope finds the drow woman lying on her back. A crossbow bolt protrudes from just below her collarbone, visibly quivering with every labored breath. Still, for all her obvious pain, the dark elf manages to pull a long dagger and point its tip toward Calliope. She relaxes slightly at the eladrin's greeting.

"You... you saw. These rivven are mad! They're going to kill me for nothing more than the color of my skin. I need to-" She bites her lip to stifle a groan, then pulls the bolt free and casts it aside. Working quickly, she puts a hand on the wound and whispers another spell. Whatever the spell's effects, it seems to have eased her pain somewhat.

The drow looks over to Calliope again, white hair sweaty beneath her hood. "What are you about? What do you want?" Again, her accent is foreign, and every so often she uses words Calliope isn't familiar with.

Dieter remains motionless near the prisoners. This drow is none of his concern nor does he understand the silky words coming from Aiwë’s mouth. What he does understand is the gross disregard for crossbow safety and holds his shield close as a result.

"We are saving you right now, so long as you explain everything to us when we're out of here. You can hide among the rest of our group in plain sight so long as you're near us. Sneak out with us now, and we'll decide if we regret it later. If you run off, well, you're only proving their point, and we'll go back to playing cat and mouse." Calliope sounds quite cheerful relaying the slightly-mad plan and the implied consequences for lying or not following it.

Having successfully not really answered the woman's questions, Calliope gets ready to withdraw from underneath the wagon to stealthily rejoin the party amid the chaos with her new half-acquaintance in tow. If she's lying about having done anything wrong, they can evidently deal with her in her current state anyways, if a single lucky bolt is enough to bring her that low.

The drow woman weighs the offer only briefly. "You would do this for an unknown drow...? Very well. Asanque." From what Calliope can tell, the dark elf agrees to the terms.

Timing their movements, and with Calliope's spell cloaking them, the eladrin and drow make it back to the party without being accosted by any of the soldiers still running about. Having already been given permission to leave, the group gets the horses and wagon moving across the bridge and toward Beregost.

After they've left the chaos and lights behind, the drow woman raises lowers her hood and shakes out her silvery-white hair. Speaking in Common, she says, "I thank you for the... kindness... you've shown." She seems to be testing out the word 'kindness', as though it represents an idea unfamiliar to her. "Those men, those... iblith cared not to learn anything of me. I was careless for but a moment, and someone saw my hands. They've been after me for days."

One hand massages her wound and she speaks the words of another spell, closing and healing her skin.

"Now that I am safe, I will depart and trouble you no more." She glances subtly at those listening. "Assuming your benevolence doesn't hide any other motives..."

"Mig'norr," Aiwë says, thumping her chest with a large-toothed grin. "I'm Shelur. I'm too much elf for much more than a look sideways, but most of my tribe have been in your shoes at least once in their life."

"This lot are in ropes because they attacked and tried to rob us," she gestures at the bandits, "but you are of course free to go. But..." She looks the woman over. "Do you have money? Food? What's your plan from here?"

Dieter has never seen a drow before and while he is uninterested in it’s travels or plans he goes catch himself staring. He’s seen wood elves and high elves and whatever stella is. I guess I shouldn’t be suprised they come in grey aswell.

"Those are Orcish words... from the mouth of a darthiir - forgive me, from the mouth of an elf." The woman seems troubled by this revelation. Or, at the very least, it's prompting much thought. "And prisoners, when you obviously could have just slain them." She looks around at the group again, this time with less suspicion and more appreciation.

"I am not without means, so long as I am careful. I will not make such a mistake again." For the first time, she smiles. "But I thank you. Perhaps one day we will meet again."

"I'm orcish by one quarter blood and three quarters upbringing," Shelur confirms. "Not exactly normal anywhere on the surface that I know of," she warns, "but I'm working in that." She grins again.
"I hope so! I'd love for you to teach me some Drow songs! Before you go, can I know your name?"

Stella remains quiet, embarrassed at the chaos she caused, but grateful that Calliope was able to handle it so well. I guess not all cloaked figures have mal intent...

Perhaps there was a small something she could try to do, though.

Stella walks over to a bush and whispers in druidic. "May the Forest Firbolg find you in good health."
(Stella casts Goodberry)

She smiled as a handful of red berries grow before her eyes, then picks them berries and hands a couple to the drow.

"Goodberries," she says. "Eat one tonight, one tomorrow night, and they'll keep you filled for a day or two." She shrugs. "Though I don't blame you if you're skeptical and don't want to eat them."

The drow accepts the magical berries with a graceful incline of her head. "I rarely come across surface-dwellers who treat me as well as your group."

She moves to depart, then hesitates, calling over her shoulder: "My name is Viconia DeVir. May the shadows guide and keep you, and loss ever bring you strength."

Then she melts into the night, and even those with darkvision have difficulty seeing her leave.