The party has escaped the Drow slave pens of Velkynvelve. Our heroes have been wandering, not entirely aimlessly, towards what they’ve been told is the general direction of Gracklstugh, a town that’s rumored to sometimes host trade caravans from the surface.
It’s a strange and wondrous realm, one that most of you are unfamiliar with. It’s usually, but not always dark, with some areas lit by strange fungi or, occasionally, a thin glowing lavender mist. Brackish but drinkable water can be found, and while you know many of the abundant fungi are edible, it’d be a good idea to find some one who knows which are which before partaking.
You’ve had some issues with Drow pursuers— it seems the chaos wreaked both by your escape— and, strangely enough, by a horde of demons joining in— did not dissuade the Drow from believing that you’d still be good slaves. You’d hoped that you’d have convinced them at least to take a moment to regroup when you ran Mistress Ilvara, the priestess in charge of the place, through on a sword, or that perhaps you’d get lucky and the drow would lose your trail while pursuing one of the other groups of slaves, but thus far your luck has not run that way.
On the plus side, before being ambushed, you’d managed to trade for some supplies. Food and clean water won’t be an issue for a little while, at least. You’re not as well-equipped as you might like, but you can probably fend off the less-determined attackers.
We’ll pick back up our story after a few days of travel.