Darkness whispered to Elora as consciousness returned, the cold stone pressing hard against her cheek. Slowly, she rose, eyes adjusting to the gloom, shadows dancing like specters around her companions—Maledurk, Thorn, and Tempest—each awakening in confusion, each mirroring the weariness etched into her own bones. A subtle thrum of powerlessness seeped into Elora’s being, magical strength siphoned by unseen wards etched deeply into the cave walls.

Maledurk, ever practical despite his beastly temper, pushed himself upright, immediately surveying their prison. Tempest, blinking sleepily, reached instinctively for arcane power, frustration furrowing her brows as her magic remained elusive. Thorn, methodical as always, swept his keen gaze across the cavern, discerning the intricate runes responsible for their impotence. In silent agreement, they knew—escape was the only course left.

It was Maledurk who first discovered the door, barred and locked, but he felt the reassuring weight of thieves’ tools hidden within his garments—oversights by captors who underestimated a dragonborn’s cunning. As his tools scraped quietly against metal, a voice, rough and mocking, called out from beyond. Maledurk’s eyes narrowed, recognizing the guttural elven tongue: a Quagoth servant, jeering about their awakened state, taunting them with the cryptic mention of a “mistress,” Ilvara, a Drow priestess whose name dripped like venom from his lips.

When silence returned, Maledurk’s swift hands resumed their work, the click of tumblers echoing triumphantly. The unlocked door swung ajar, revealing a narrow bridge extending to a stalactite tower suspended impossibly above a yawning chasm. Spiderwebs stretched menacingly beneath, glistening ominously in pale gloom above an unseen river whose muffled roar promised a treacherous plunge into darkness below.

Their journey began cautiously, with Maledurk’s massive form leading the charge. The bridge trembled beneath their weight, every creak amplifying their awareness of the abyss yawning beneath. Once across, they descended stairs carved into living rock, searching desperately for signs of their stolen belongings and weapons. Each step into the bowels of the cavern increased their apprehension, each echo a herald of potential doom.

At the staircase’s end, they found twin paths—a cavernous nesting ground strewn with bones and debris, and a storage room offering crude tools. Armed hastily with pickaxes and shovels, the party knew they were ill-equipped, yet determination hardened their resolve. Maledurk’s muscles flexed, the beast within stirring, eager for confrontation, sensing imminent danger and welcoming it.

The time for subtlety vanished abruptly as Maledurk boldly opened the door into the stalactite’s heart, coming face-to-face with a surprised Quagoth and its Drow overseers. Fire surged instinctively within Maledurk’s chest, erupting in a roaring breath that engulfed his foes, reducing one dark elf instantly to ash. The flames illuminated the battle in stark relief, painting dancing shadows of violence upon the walls as chaos erupted.

Thorn and Tempest, quick to react, unleashed their diminished yet still formidable magics, sending waves of flame and frost into the fray. Thorn’s icy spell caught one fleeing enemy upon the bridge, a sudden chill seizing her limbs, silencing her desperate cry as she crumbled to stillness. Elora followed closely, conjuring flames born of primal fury, burning away the last of their enemies’ resistance.

Yet the Drow captain proved vicious and cunning. His poisoned blade carved into Maledurk, venomous agony burning through dragonborn veins, pain fueling Maledurk’s rage rather than subduing it. Eyes wild with fury, the dragonborn barbarian abandoned finesse, delivering punishing blows with a pickaxe turned lethal weapon. The Drow captain staggered, pride and prowess shattered, and fell to his knees, gasping surrender in the face of unstoppable ferocity.

Breath ragged, Maledurk glared down at the defeated enemy, barely restrained fury flickering in his fierce gaze. Thorn quickly assessed their precarious position—voices echoed in the distance, alerted by the fallen elf’s dying cries. Time was scarce. Above them, a ladder hinted at potential safety or bitter disappointment.

Swiftly, Thorn ascended, heart pounding with urgency, emerging into an attic-like chamber brimming with captured possessions. Triumph filled him as his fingers closed around spellbooks and enchanted weapons. He wasted no time, tossing down familiar tools of power to comrades whose hope surged anew with every reclaimed item.

Elora felt the comforting weight of her druidic focus, the energy reconnecting instantly with her soul, primal magic once again within reach. Tempest’s eyes glowed with rekindled mischief, chaos embodied once more. Even Maledurk found reassurance, battle-scarred hands gripping weapons forged specifically for him. But escape remained their immediate priority—the stalactite now a beacon of danger, their foes closing in swiftly.

A hurried barricade bought them precious seconds. Furniture scraped loudly against stone as Thorn and Maledurk sealed the southwest door, its trembling wood shuddering ominously beneath insistent fists from the other side. With no viable path left, the four friends retreated to the cavern’s edge, hearts racing with reckless hope. A hundred feet below, dark water churned, whispering dangerous promises of escape or death.

Maledurk reached instinctively into his pack, fingers tracing the outline of the enchanted folding boat—a vessel carried through perils past, now their only chance for survival. His companions’ eyes met in silent agreement; trust forged through countless battles needed no spoken confirmation.

Thorn secured ropes swiftly, movements precise despite looming threats. Below them stretched uncertainty—churning waters offering liberation or doom. One by one, they descended, gripping tight to lifelines of rope and courage, bodies braced against stone walls slick with mist. Above, muffled shouts became clearer, their captors’ rage sharpening as the fugitives slipped further from grasp.

Elora glanced upward as she descended, a fleeting prayer to ancient spirits whispered between labored breaths. They had faced horrors unimaginable, survived evils insurmountable. But as darkness rose hungrily from below, she knew this escape—like every step of their journey—hinged on the thin line between hope and despair, courage and folly.

The river waited below, shrouded in shadow, relentless currents promising escape to unknown futures. But as each adventurer vanished into darkness, united by friendship, magic, and desperate bravery, they accepted this leap into uncertainty, trusting fate to carry them forward on the ever-turning tides of destiny.

Session Notes

  • Initial Setting and Recap

    • The group awakens in a small cavern with a barred door, feeling tired and disoriented.
    • They recall dreams of attending Strixhaven, but now find themselves as their original characters (Elora, Maledurk, Thorn, and Tempest).
    • They are uncertain if the Strixhaven episodes or the fight with Strahd were real, but they all remember similar experiences.
    • The cavern is dark, with no obvious sunlight or indication of time.
    • Arcane runes on the walls suppress higher-level magic and drain their spell slots; only cantrips are usable inside the cell.
    • They have no gear except for minor hidden items (e.g., Maledurk’s thieves’ tools).

  • Observations of the Cavern

    • The only exit is a heavy door with bars. Light filters through it from outside.
    • They hear distant hammering, digging sounds, and general bustle but cannot see the source.
    • A wooden bridge is visible through the door, leading across a deep chasm.
    • Below, about 100 feet down, there appears to be water with spider webs stretched between ledges and pillars.
    • The party suspects they are in the Underdark (they recognize certain features, especially with references to drow and subterranean creatures).

  • Encounter with the Quagoth at the Door

    • Maledurk tries to pick the lock, but before he finishes, a Quagoth approaches the door.
    • The Quagoth speaks in Elvish, acknowledges the party is awake, and mentions a mistress named “Ilvara” (a drow priestess).
    • The Quagoth leaves, walking away across a bridge toward another stalactite structure.

  • Escape from the Cell

    • Once the Quagoth is gone, Maledurk resumes lockpicking.
    • He succeeds and unlocks the door, allowing the party to step out.
    • Stepping beyond the cell, they no longer feel the draining effect from the runes. Higher-level magic is still not restored instantly, but they sense they can eventually regain spell slots if they rest outside the warded area.
    • From the ledge outside the cell, they see a rope bridge spanning a deep chasm. A waterfall feeds a river far below.
    • The party spots another path leading down to a door on the right (down a short flight of steps). They decide to explore that area.

  • Exploring the Lower Level

    • They head down the stairs to a small storage space containing mundane tools (shovels, pickaxes).
      • Each member grabs something to use as an improvised weapon (e.g., a war pick or a shovel).
    • Nearby, they find a side cavern used as a Quagoth nest.
      • It is filled with debris, bones from past meals, and rough bedding; nothing of value is found.
    • From this lower vantage point, the drop to the water is still extreme (roughly 80–90 feet). They see webbing suspended below.
    • They consider leaping into the water or climbing down with rope but do not immediately attempt it.

  • Decision to Check Another Door

    • The party notices another route leading to a stalactite with a door (the same direction the Quagoth originally came from).
    • They go back up the steps to the higher level and move across a short bridge to a door.

  • Confrontation Inside the Stalactite

    • Upon opening the door, they see:
      • A Quagoth and two drow, one of whom appears less armored, and another drow in a different part of the small room.
    • The drow react with hostility, drawing swords.

  • Combat Begins

    • Maledurk (Barbarian) rages and uses his breath weapon (fire or potentially lightning/brass breath, but described as flame-like).
      • The cone/line of breath engulfs multiple enemies.
      • One drow is killed outright. The Quagoth and the other drow are badly injured.
    • Thorn fires a Ray of Frost at an enemy on the bridge later in the encounter.
    • Elora and Tempest use cantrips (Fire Bolt, Produce Flame) to attack.
    • The Quagoth and a drow warrior strike back. Maledurk suffers multiple sword attacks coated with poison, taking significant damage despite raging.
    • One severely injured drow attempts to flee out a door to the southwest, yelling that the prisoners have escaped. Thorn’s Ray of Frost stops her in her tracks on the bridge, killing her.
    • The stronger drow (referred to as an elite or more capable warrior) continues the fight. Maledurk’s war pick strikes true after another breath attack. Ultimately, the drow yields, dropping his weapon.

  • Search for Their Gear

    • As the remaining drow surrenders, the group hears distant sounds of more movement or reinforcements beyond the southwestern door.
    • Inside the stalactite room, they spot a ladder going up to a small storage loft.
    • Thorn (or another member) climbs up the ladder and finds the party’s missing equipment, including weapons, armor, spell focuses, and a special folding boat.
    • They quickly retrieve and toss all gear down to the rest of the group.

  • Plan to Escape

    • They note that more drow or Quagoth might be coming from the southwest.
    • The party contemplates blocking the southwestern door with furniture (if possible) and then retreating across the eastern bridge to try climbing down the cliff.
    • They discuss using ropes to descend the chasm and possibly deploy the folding boat in the water below to escape through the underground river.
    • The session closes with the group preparing to leave the stalactite, reclaiming their gear, and planning to descend the cliff toward the water.