Elf Finger Food
We move down the tunnel towards the drow city, from which the undead curiously emerged. The drider that saw us fight the undead reappears ahead of us. 'Hail, adventurers. What are surface dwellers doing here?'
There is some mumbling from the group members at point, 'maybe you want to talk to our intelligent member of the party', for there is only one, and Grimstorm steps forwards.
'Hail, drider. We are heading to the city, uh, flib flab flub, as I've forgotten the name of it.' Yes, he's the intelligent one. The GM sends a cue as an aside and Grimstorm remembers that the city is called Phaervhul. After we employ some diplomacy, the drider sends us warning that the city has been overrun by undead and that we would be wise not to go there.
Our mission doesn't really have any contingency for the drow city being under hostile occupation, and it is just as likely that whoever is controlling the undead is also the one planning to send an army to attack the dwarf city, so our plan remains to continue to Phaervhul, whatever we are going to encounter. We thank the drider for his information and bid our new potential ally farewell as we press on.
The drow city turns out to be only a couple of minutes away, and we cross the large bridge in to Phaervhul easily enough. There are no drow around but there are signs of destruction and fire, suggesting there is more than simple negotiation awaiting us. We move further in to the city to investigate when we are spotted by goblins, of all creatures, on the top of a building's wall.
The goblins summon a troll, who then calls out to us in common. 'Creatures!', he begins, as we catch sound of some bongo drumming coming from inside the troll's building. It is really quite atmospheric to have live sound effects, adding to the ambience of the evening, but they really don't sound much like bongos. 'That's my 'phone', says the DM, breaking from the troll character, 'hang on a sec.'
After the interruption we learn that the troll and goblins are celebrating their recent release as slaves of the drow, owing to the undead attack on the city, and they would like us to join their party. Thinking they are inviting us for drinks and some dancing we head in, the troll welcoming us happily. 'Great to see you!' he calls out.
'No one ever says that!' says Adran.
'That's because he wasn't talking to you,' Krafft tells him.
The troll extends his greeting, 'we ran out of drow to cook on the fire, so it is good timing for you to wander past. We could use more nibbles.'
'Oh. Maybe he was talking to you, Adran.'