Chapter 1 - The Beginning

Aelar and Crolwell launch towards the water first. Aelar floats from the ledge in a graceful dive befitting a champion swimmer. Crolwell follows quickly, and less gracefully behind with his goblin in tow, it is still snoozing away as they crash into the water and it has a very rude awakening. As he awakes, clutched tightly underneath Crolwell's arm he struggles both to be free, and for oxygen.

[ GM: The goblin is going to try and break free from Crolwell now. ]

Ütés starts bolting shortly after the others, not entirely sure what all just transpired she makes a less than graceful, flailing crash into the water below, she at least hit the water, and not the rocky edge of the lake. The other two goblins continue to snooze as the fuse of the bomb spits sparks and grows ever shorter.

Xadira, without even the intention of trying, manages the perfect entry into the water. She feels as though she must look like an uncoordinated bird trying to fly for the first time, when in reality the casual observer would see a near perfectly executed double flip with a full twist. There is absolutely no splash as her form is impeccable. If only she knew how she did any of that.

Unfortunately her grace is unnoticed by any of the others as they have only moments before touched into the water themselves. As you are all under the surface of the water you feel a strong reverberation shake through the water and stone around you. That and a bright flash from above inform you that the bomb certainly wasn't a dud. Large chunks of slate stone and dagger-like stalactites spear into the water all around you. You do your best to try and get out of the way of the falling objects.

[ GM: Everyone make a dexterity saving throw to avoid being hit by falling debris. Crolwell can either make the saving throw at disadvantage because he is holding the thrashing goblin, or let the thing go and make a regular save. ]

Xadira:
As you flail you avoid some of the larger debris, but a rogue stalactite grazes across your arm.

Ütés:
Your drunken giraffe technique keeps you from getting hit by a particularly large stone, that spears past you through the water, by about six inches.

Aelar and Crolwell do their best to avoid the large debris, but a rock clips Aelor and another gives Crolwell and his goblin companion a good solid smack.

The elf twists to avoid the falling rocks as well. He slips around them almost effortlessly as they shoot past him through the water.

With that there is a sudden quiet tranquility. At the surface of the water you can see that the rock shelf you were previously on simply doesn't exist anymore. You would probably assume the same of the goblins that were sleeping on it. There is no sign of a tunnel anymore, you would guess the shock collapsed it in on itself.

The elf bobs at the surface of the water, "That should buy us time to make our escape." He turns and starts swimming across the small lake to the exit on the other side.

The group finds themselves on the other side of the cave after the swim and emerges from the cave into bright sunlight. Xadira is trying her best to improve Crolwell's mood by regaling him with fascinating tales from the past. After giving Aelar a thump on the head, which in retrospect may have been a bit too hard, he is contented to listen and walk with the group.

Most of the blood that had soaked your clothes is now gone. The elf finally slows his pace, this is the first time he hasn't been trying to rush you onward. "We should head towards Neverwinter. My onclave is there. We will have a place to stay and shall be warmly recieved, I'm sure of it", he offers, "There is one issue however, it is through those woods." with that he gestures to the woods that are outside the cave. Though the morning light still shines brightly overhead there is curious little of it within the woods.

"We could also skirt town to go back to the road to the east, though it would be a longer trip, and we don't have much for supplies it would seem", he looks the party over in their current state of dishevelment.

The elf looks around briefly. "This is not the safest area, but I will tell you of what I know quickly", he says reluctantly. "My name is Taft Lightfoot. I am a brother of The Daggers. That may not mean much to you, our organization has remained a secret for decades. I, and a few others, narrowly escaped the rampage back in the tavern", he gestures at the hole torn in his black robe, "I saw a hooded figure give you these small vials, you drank of the liquid inside, only moments later you all drew your weapons and...", he trails off, seeming to become lost in thought. The look on his face says enough.

After a few moments he snaps back to the present. He turns towards Ütés, "Your prince was another who escaped, along with that troupe", he gestures toward Aelar, "Unfortunately they are not free, the man who gave you that liquid also captured them as they fled. My enclave in Neverwinter can offer us assistance in trying to find where they may have taken them. The Daggers are more widespread than you can possibly understand."

Seeing the confusion of Crolwell the elf walks up to him, places a hand on his forehead, and starts to chant an incantation. As he blesses the old man sudden clarity shoots through his mind. He remembers everything since waking up in the tavern with extreme clarity. No detail goes forgotten. "This should help you understand, grandfather, if only for a while. My magic is only so powerful, it can not overcome the effects of time", the elf says, a caring look upon his face.