Chapter 1: Prisoners of the Drow

Please roll me 1d20.

You make your way back to the tower without encountering any of the denizens of this place. All told, you've recovered approximately 60 ration packs between the two of you (each pack contains enough food to feed one person a full day's meal, they each weigh 2 pounds. we aren't exactly tracking encumbrance by weight, but by Theater of the Mind rules. If it seems ludicrous to carry that much, it is. If you can narratively explain how you are pulling it off, I'll likely let it slide). All told, for your current crew of 14, you have enough food for everyone for 4 days.

Aye lad, I wouldn't be missing this scrap for anything! Eldreth says as she tests her grip on the unfamiliar sword.

Jimjar looks up from his study of the blade, Oh, I'm coming. These drow will feel my blade, that is for certain.

Derendil stands and nods his head, saying quickly in Elvish Oh yes, these usurpers will know the might of the Elvish kings! When offered armor and a weapon, he continues to decline.

1 Stealth check at advantage. 1 Perception check from Dustin as your scout, please.

Excellent. Also throw me another Fate roll.

When you creep to the entrance of the temple, you make your way to the heavy door. Listening at the door, you hear nothing. Chancing a peek inside, under the door, you spot no immediate feet. With the practiced art of rogues everywhere, you ease the door open and glance inside. Through the murk and the dim lighting, you see a large number of glistening eyes set on a jet black head. Thinking it must be the statue, you start to push the door open slightly more, only to see one of the eyes blink!