The mists have hidden him so far. But Ob knows, to any resident of this foul place, he obviously is an Outsider. He edges closer to the temple and hunkers down, stretching out his wings and opening his jaws wide in a fearsome display. Unlike the others, the bugs don't bother him as much. His flesh is living stone so their stings and bites don't penetrate. What does bother him is the feeling of them crawling all over his body. He represses a shudder and waits, watching silently for the others to return.

Tannr edges closer to the temple, keeping an eye on Addley, making sure he doesnt start a blood bath just for shits and giggles. He sees several Drow move down an open hallway of sorts and head inside. The smell of roasting meat makes Tannrs stomach growl before a heavy wooden door is slammed shut.

Not that I would touch anything that came from this godforsaken hell hole.... 

Watching silently Tannr starts to wonder about the room or area of the temple the men had left in their hurry to get to their meal. He gets Addleys attention and the pair moves towards the walkway. The stones are slippery and damp, like everything else in Underdark and the smell even here in a temple is almost overpowering. The added stench from incense that swirls and moves as if alive almost makes Tannr gag. The priests incense was not made to appeal to Drow or human. Spider pheromones along some other equally nasty ingredients was thought to bring favor with Lolth.

They dont meet a soul on their silent trek down the corridor and through a heavy door at the end. The room is dark and musty, like everything else. Tannr feels his way along a damp wall until his eyes grow accustomed to the dim light. He looks to Addley and sees him grin, teeth gleaming white in the darkness. Tannr follows the mans gaze to a darker spot on the far wall. Squinting, Tannr finally makes out what has Addley grinning. A row of pegs and on each peg a dark robe hanging from its hood.

There's a bit of a delay while the group gets their equipment together. Tannr turns to Keon at the last minute. "Be sure you reset the Gate after we go through. If the Drow find out we came this way, they just might decide to use the same Gate to come back here. I don't want them getting anywhere near Tori."

Keon nods. "Not to worry, laddie, I'll do my part. Now you get going and put the fear of Herne into those Drow bastards."

"Don't you mean Thor?" And with a grin and a wink, Tannr leaves to join the group.

Star's Archers scout ahead and Marc takes point behind them. The big man moves with the silence of his namesake, never putting a foot wrong. It takes about forty-five minutes to penetrate into Underdark; the change is immediately perceptible. The place is wreathed in a dank, low-lying mist; the vegetation is flabby, almost fungoid; insects are everywhere, crawling and slithering on the ground and hovering in the fetid air. The Archers provided the group with an ointment that they said would keep the worst of them at bay, for like most things in this world, the insects are all poisonous to one degree or another.

Once they're well into the noisome region, the Archers drop back to give last-minute directions to Marc and Tannr; then they vanish into the noxious mist.

The rest of the group presses forward cautiously, alert for anything. Tannr is aware that each member of the group has his own reasons to hate the Drow; he's seldom been part of a group so united in its purpose.

It seems like they've been walking for hours; the constant stench oppresses their nostrils, the omnipresent fog makes progress slow, sometimes thickening so that visibility is limited to no more than six inches in front of their noses; and there's a wearying wave of the hands to keep the bugs off. They have to shuffle along for the same reason, to sweep the loathsome creatures from their path. Let the ointment prove to be ineffective on just one creature within this place and -

Marc shakes his head. Best not to think of that.

The temple suddenly looms up at them out of the fog. Marc gives the signal to stop, then makes a cautious circuit of the place. He returns perhaps twenty minutes later.

His voice is a keen cutting whisper. "There are two guards, one on either side of the door, positioned maybe two feet from the entrance. They have spears and swords and probably knives. There are another half-dozen positioned around the temple at irregular intervals, making good use of natural cover. I think we should take the outermost guards first and work our way inward. By the time we get inside the temple, they'll have no help to call for."

Tannr nods. "Do what you have to do. Keep it quiet."

 Marc nods and motions to Andy and Addley. Addley looks dejected; he can't use his beloved knives on this mission - too great a chance that someone might cry out. Andy shows nothing at all except that same empty smile that's fooled so many. After some whispered instructions, they set out together.

Andy is the first to find a guard. He wonders bemusedly how the man would react if he stepped out and spoke to him. The temptation is great, but he squelches it; he knows too well what Marc would do to him if he fucked up this mission. He withdraws his blowpipe with agonizing slowness, inserts a dart, levels it, and -

The sound is quieter than a cough. The guard crumples without a sound, his hand going to his throat in a futile final gesture. Andy waits till all movement has ceased, then steps forward and drags the body into a swampy patch he'd noticed earlier. It sinks without a ripple upon the tarry-black surface. Andy grins and continues the hunt.

Elsewhere, Addley moves silently through the darkness, a darkness equalled only by that within his own reptilian brain. It's as though he's attuned to this darksome land, for his steps lead him unerringly to those beings that have been designated as "prey" tonight. The cool mist caresses him, the soft sucking mud is no impediment to his progress. There, to the left! His heart leaps within him, a savage grin stretching his lips as he reaches for the unaccustomed weapon. He holds it up, examining it closely. How can something this inoccuous be as lethal as they claim? He's tempted to throw it away and use one of his knives, those friends who never fail him; but in the end, his curiousity gets the better of him. The blowpipe coughs, the guard collapses. It's strangely unsatisfactory; where is the blood, the thrashing, the awareness in the eyes as the victim realizes he's dead? Where is the fading of the light that makes this whole experience so delicious? Addley is puzzled and frustrated. Death should not be this clean, this quiet....

By this time Andy has dispatched another guard, noting with grim satisfaction that the bodies do indeed shrivel up like flies sucked dry by a spider. The cadaver weighs almost nothing as he drags it to the sucking bog.

While all this is going on, Marc has taken out two guards with speed and efficiency. Andy, he muses, is an emotional black hole; he has no emotions, feels nothing whatsoever; but like any good predator, he can simulate his prey very well. Addley is a pure sociopath who is kept under control only by the fact that he gets to kill more working with the Ravens than he would if he pursued his amusements elsewhere; and he realizes that getting paid to kill adds an extra jolt of excitement to the game.

Marc is like neither of them. For him, killing is simply a matter of "the greatest good of the greatest number". He's never learned to enjoy it, but it doesn't keep him awake at nights either.

There is a strangled shriek as Addley finds his second victim. He snaps his head back and his blade bites deep, cutting back to the spinal cord, hot blood jetting over his fingers, spraying into his face. He inhales it like ambrosia, his body quivering with the ecstasy he only finds at such times. He lets the bdy slip to the ground, his body thrumming like a high-tension line, his eyes rolled up into his head.

The thrill of the kill wears off - too quickly, as always - and Addley disposes of the body in a natural sump. Between the water and the things that live here, there won't be much left come morning... or whatever passes for morning in Underdark.

Tannr and Marc are sketching out rough plans with the rest of the group when a low hiss and rumble attracts their attention. All eyes turn to Ob, who has moved into a fighting stance. Reptillian tongue flickers, scenting the air. The tip of his tail twitches in anticipation. His hands are clenched around the hilts of his blades, ready to bare them in a cross-handed draw.

The Drow moves silently from the shelter of the trees. Another, younger, shadows his steps. The first hands his bow to the second and removes his palm brace. He turns his exposed palm to Ob.

 "We have heard of you, Stone Dragon. We come to aid in the Lady Star's name." His voice is soft, little more than a whisper of sound. "I am Stave. This is Fletcher." The younger Drow nods his head to the group. At Ob's raised brow the older Drow gives a half smile. "Our names are our own, given only to the Lady and her Warrior when requested. When you are ready to cross, we will go before you and motion when the way is clear."

He turns away, giving them his back in a show of trust. Fletcher moves into the treeline after handing Stave his bow. The Archer looks back over his shoulder.

 "Needs must I warn you, Stone Dragon. The Priestess knows of your part in Her sister's death. If She sees you, She will do Her utmost to destroy you." He looks at Tannr, eyes darkly honest. "That said, I understand this mission is yours, for what the Priestess would have done to," He smiles, a real smile, "the female who would not be broken. Once you are across we will fade back into the People. Our bows are yours when we see you have a need. Our arrow flight is straight. We will only hit what needs be, and only when absolutely necessary."

Stave pulls the hood of his ashen cloak over his face. "Good Hunting and Safe Passage."

 He slips away, disappearing as he moves deeper into the cover of the trees.

"Okay, everyone gather round and listen up. This is important if you want to survive." That gets attention. People gather around the tiny woman, intent on her next words. "After our people go through the Gate, I'm going to activate this." She points to a curved metal box placed maybe twenty feet from the Gate.

"This is an M18A1 Claymore mine. Anyone anywhere in front of this baby when it goes off is going to be very very unhappy. Therefore, do not run straight out of the Gate; do a dog-leg maybe twenty yards to the right or left. I'll wait till everyone's clear to fire it, and you'll oblige me by moving your ass with some alacrity. This little beauty fires steel ball bearings in a 60-degree arc." She shows us the shape with her hands. "Effective range is maybe fifty, fifty-five yards in front of the mine, and six and a half feet straight up; but it can spray up to two hundred and sixty yards, so don't get in front of it." Her grin is chilling. " You might think of it as the world's biggest sawed-off shotgun. I guarantee you, anything that doesn't like Cold Iron is going to have a Very Bad Day."

Tori's eyes focus inward. A small smile touches her lips. Keon waits quietly, watching the clearing until Tori closes her eyes.

 "If last time is anything to go by, Tannr could touch you in Underdark. It was weak, but he could. Your commitment to each other is stronger. You can touch much easier." He lays a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You will know if anything happens."

Tori nods. "I know." She smiles. "Stoney says i better get back. Tomas is ready to come get me."

Keon nods. "Guunnar and I will stay here. Pike, can you get Tori back to the clearing before Tomas decides to sneak off to follow us."

Pike grins. He takes Tori's hand and taps his staff to the ground. One moment they are standing next to Keon, the next just out of site of the clearing where everyone had met. Tori stumbles, catching her balance. Pike laughs and starts jogging down the trail. Tori shakes her head and follows. Moments later Tori finds herself stumbling, just barely catching her nephew as he wings himself into her arms.

"Tante Tori! Next time I go too! I keep you safe. I promised. Don't make me break a promise!"

Tannr nods and his smile starts to fade, the warrior coming to the surface. He runs his hand softly down the side of Toris face and sends to her...

I'm coming back, and I'm marrying you, nothing in this or any realm is going to stop me...

The men start moving through the gate. As Tannr approaches it with Marc he turns and looks at Tori, committing every detail to memory.

Tori takes a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions, not wanting to appear weak even to her sib.

Keon watches the men disappear through the gate. As Tannr passes by him he says, “We will be waiting. Watch your back, trust your instincts. We'll keep watch..”

Tannr nods and disappears behind Marc. The gate shimmers for a moment then starts to fade. In seconds it dissolves as if it were never there.