Omake: A night out on the town
Nighttime wasn't supposed to be blinding. They'd waited for hours before leaving the mist-filled temple to avoid the sun, and now this? It wasn't enough to forget to build proper secondary tunnels, but they had to fill the streets with spell-light too?
If not for the familiar necessities of stealth, Morwyn would have been swearing as he slipped on his sundark goggles.
They protected him from light-blindness, but they diminished his superior eyesight. Why, he was barely any better than the ape-kin all around him!
Tuin chuckled.
"Shall we walk among the beast-kin? Or will you hide here all night until you can bear the thought of living here?"
The new lips of his Essarian form twisted his words somewhat, the True Tongue's melodies sounding positively foreign.
He endured the indignity for convenience's sake, of course - but apparently, Morwyn would not.
"Are you quite done mangling the tongue of your betters, you furred and stunted mockery of a proper sentient?"
As he spoke, he flicked his fellow assassin off his shoulder. No true Drow would allow a pet to sit upon him! Letting this stand would reveal Tuin's true nature, and thus power. Doing this was an integral part of the disguise, and certainly not petty revenge.
"Speak a language local priests and mages will understand, [scurrying-slave-thing]."
"Yes, [Greater One]" replied the monkey in proper Abyssal.
He spoke with proper servility, and followed slightly behind Morwyn as they stepped out onto the ridiculously lit streets. Not quite trying to hide in public, but easy to underestimate in the event of a challenge. Hidden magic behind Morwyn's hidden blades: the natural state of independent Drow walking streets where House agents or independent competitors could strike.
Such were the ways of the Dark City.
But of course, those were not the ways of the Dragon's den.
Here countless hairless beast-kin walked without fear of their betters, entering their crude buildings as if they could own them. One even dared to sing in his horrid tongue! Shameless, the lot of them.
Morwyn left the first man-thing to push them in the crowd mewling in the dirt, but alive.
They were left alone after that, though a grey-cloaked man did move towards them before quailing under the dark elf's glare.
And of course the pink-skinned beast-kin the Dragon had called "humans" utterly failed to speak Abyssal.
Tuin could cast spells to handle the issue... In twelve hours. For now, they found themselves alone in a strange land without knowing its dangers or common tongue, without any of its coin or even proper respect from its inhabitants.
Morwyn was making no effort to hide his nature, and the "humans" didn't even seem to know what it meant !
They had successfully infiltrated the accursed ceremonies of Shaz'n'Gurath, the High Temple to the Spider of House Xorlabbin, and countless surface slave settlements living in fear of hunters from the deep. This shouldn't be so aggravating!
Nevertheless, something about this place was deeply unpleasant. This was the greatest city of this Mending age ? Magic returned, and these uncouth beast-kin were the greatest race left alive? Their language was hideous, their craftsmanship crude, and their city one-dimensional. Oh, the slave races were happy here, but was that really worth accepting to live in such a hovel?
Well, they didn't seem to have much of a choice. The Dragon had left them here among his hoard of mortals, and they no longer knew who to call upon for swift transportation. Their contacts and bargains had all fallen to dust, lost in time. Tuin had tried to call upon the ancient wardings of the City, but they no longer answered his call or even shone upon the horizon. And Morwyn had summoned his bound spy-fiend, only to be answered by ash reeking of Dragonfire and the destruction of the binding focus.
They crisscrossed the Dragon's city, searching for something. They knew a multitude of signs and call-symbols from the Dark City and beyond, all indicating safe rest or proper contacts where hired blades and poison could find new associates.
But this city hosted none that they could recognize, and by dawn the pair was getting a little worried. Would they have to learn an inferior language? Would they have to sleep outside like vagrants?
They even returned to the Snake God's temple to speak to his green-scaled adepts, to no avail. The clergy was touched by the Snake, but otherwise barbaric and ill-educated. And even Drow were not so foolish as to trouble an incarnate God for a mere blessing of Tongues.
It was as they dared to approach the slightly less inferior buildings which likely belonged to more dangerous beast-kin leaders that they found their way forwards.
Most fulfilled functions the two Drow could not quite puzzle out, but one was familiar. There were no eight-limbed statues or devotional markings in the sand, but the large circular building was clearly there for bloodsports. A rather unusual pursuit for most assassins, of course... Yet Tuin and Morwyn were skilled and deadly, and could certainly triumph over the clumsy, hairless apes that inhabited this land. A little more notoriety wouldn't hurt either, and their disguise skills were certainly sufficient to obscure their true identities as needed.
Making them respect their betters was merely a side-benefit, of course. The wealth and contacts were the real reason. They'd have to see how easy it was to enter tomorrow, but that kind of investigation was why Tuin had learned mindreading spells despite their unreliability against any serious targets. And kidnapping whoever was strong enough to rule over the proceedings was an impressive way to get on the scene, as long as she didn't force them to kill her.
And as for lesser expenses like immediate housing, or food that hadn't spent millennia in a transfigured haversack?
Well, there was always theft. Beastkin with poor senses should know better than to stockpile money, really. And what kind of Dragon would object to seizing assets from mere Wingless?
OOC: My headcanon is that SD has public lighting in the form of Continual Flame. And that Drow, even Drow who rebelled against Lolth's clergy, still feel incredibly superior to outsiders / consider humans and other inferior races as natural slaves. I'm not saying that they won't be able to serve us, just that they may be... abrasive to any mortal colleagues. Or "beast-kin", as they're called by a Drow who isn't trying to be polite to a Dragon.
Did the Drow manage to sneak around the city without being caught? They think so (and they have great stealth) but of course Garin could have been tailing them the whole while without them knowing.