When last we left our protagonists, they’d just overcome an attack by subterranean creepy crawlies, and encountered (and dealt with) their rival adventuring crew on the way to the hidden temple to perform a ritual at a particular altar in order to channel it’s arcane energy toward the will of their superiors…

Taking a short rest to regroup after the battle, Imogen the wizard, human slave to the drow of House Melarn, took a moment for meditation while her companions nursed their wounds and cleaned their weapons. She closed her eyes, calming her body and reasserting control over the arcane forces within her.

After a moment, she opened her eyes, and immediately felt that things had changed*. She was in the same cavern, of that she was certain, though her innate sense of the arcane betrayed a difference in the underlying fabric of the world, though she couldn’t be certain as to it’s nature.

She was also alone.

Her companions were gone, though she’d only closed her eyes for a moment. She rose, surveying the scene around her: evidence of the battle remained, though it too suggested a conflict with a different rhythm, different instruments, different players. As she began to explore the space for further clues, she heard the unmistakable sounds of battle reverberating through the tunnels ahead. She quickly collected her meager posessions and charged down the natural hallway toward the conflict.

She soon arrived at the source; a group of drow adventurers were locked in conflict with a large group of svirfneblin – deep gnomes of the Underdark, sworn enemies of the drow of the city of Menzoberranzan, home of her masters.

Imogen hestitated; the drow party before her were not the companions she set off with, though several wore the unmistakable sigil of House Melarn on their clothing or armor; the same symbol branded into the skin of her upper arm, marking her as property. She had no particular love for the drow; they’d captured and enslaved her as a child, tearing her away from her family and community and forcing her into a life of servitude. Her overseers treated her fairly enough (a consideration, she suspected to her potential usefulness as a mage; a consideration she cultivated with minor enchantments), though they still kept her in chains. To her, every situation was evaluated in terms of it’s potential to further her own personal interests and goals – of these, her eventual freedom dominated all others.

The moment was shattered as a sling bullet cast by one of the svirfneblin guards SPRANG(!)ed off of the stone wall behind her, inches from her head. The group’s drow priestess, a woman she did not recognize, but who was unmistakably of House Melarn, shouted – “You, Slave! Deal with these vermin!” Imogen’s freedom, for the moment, would have to wait.

Summoning up her arcane resources, she cast her beguiling strands into the fray, immediately removing two of the gnomes from the conflict permanently, and knocking several others back, giving the drow combatants a bit of room to maneuver and redeploy. The drow were scattered and disorganized, as if they were the victims of an ambush.

The drow party was made up of the priestess, a hexblade warlock with his summoned blade of pure magick, an axe-wielding warrior in heavy armor, and a mage. This mage acted next, casting a bolt of lightning into a cluster of gnomes, striking one and arcing into another. Clearly, this mage’s skills tended toward pure firepower rather than the more subtle enchantments Imogen wielded.

The two largest gnomes, stockier than the others and armed with heavy war picks – overseers, perhaps? – launched into the fray, badly wounding the drow warrior and warlock; more sling bullets flew over the fray, apparently slaying the warrior and ricoheting into the priestess. Imogen attempted to cloud the mind of one of these pick-wielding adversaries and turn it against it’s allies, but her enchantment faltered, drawing the combatant’s attention. His strike with the war pick connected, spilling Imogen’s blood and knocking her prone on the cavern floor. She cursed her badly chosen tactic, and remained on the ground, feigning death until a new opportunity presented itself.

As she lay on the ground, Imogen passed up several opportunities for small strikes against the gnomes, waiting for the optimal circumstance; though badly wounded, she drew upon her strength, finding her second wind as the priestess and warlock fell to the wrath of picks and bullets. As the drow mage summoned up the power of elemental fire to drive back their attackers, Imogen spotted her chance to act.

Remaining prone, she once again overcame the will of her attackers, creating in their minds the irresistable image that the ground under their feet was crumbling; opening into a bottomless chasm beneath them. three of the attackers fell to the ground, wounded and immobile; even the slinger who saw the illusion for what it was was not completely immune; he too fell to the ground, hard, and suffering minor injuries.

For a moment, it seemed as if the tide of battle was turned, but another gnome slinger was not affected by the illusion, and let fly at it’s source: Imogen. The last things that passed through her mind before the stone struck her was the image of the lone drow wizard standing alone and bloodied as the remaining svirfneblin began to advance, and her resigned hope that none of this was real**…

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*- the “change” of course, was the fact that I played in a different location this week, with different players. I joined the battle already in progress because I arrived a few minutes late – unfortunate, but it makes for a convenient in-game narrative.

**- This encounter was a TPK – total party kill. All of us went down. The players at my table weren’t particularly experienced, the party wasn’t particularly balanced, and the opposition was very tough and rolled really well. It was bad, but things like this sometimes happen. Things may not be entirely over for Imogen, however…be sure to check back for next weeks’ recap!