Escape from Boston

The moment Sage and any company arrived at Boston, her powerful connection the earth shunted them to a violent and sudden arrival below Boston rather than the surface. Here, in the deep, the winding Boston underground, orderly tunnels expanded and winded to unimaginable proportions, to become a fragment of the vast Underdark.

Her arrival was not a quiet one. Blasting apart large amounts of earth and rock, in a large cavern lit by purple bioluminescent fungi, they encountered a raiding party. Sage violently ripped into them, but one of their number, adorned in mere leather and carrying a wood club, managed to get the drop on her and incapacitate her and any who were with her. Then they were loaded onto a crude cart made of dried giant fungus wood, rough and coarse to sit on, tied up in itchy rope with the other “livestock”.
Later, Sage stirred and realized she was bound in by her arms and legs, tied to a pole carried by the Ghost Dwarfs. Just her luck. She was inches away from the power of the earth, yet now she was helpless as wild game. The dark ones knew the immense power of geomancers when within the bosom of their element, and ensured precautions to deny it.  They were leading a caravan through the tunnels.

Sage was quick on the bargaining. She spoke the deep languages, making her a more than natural fit into this phenomenon, which she took less as an anomaly and more a conjunction. “Untie me, dark ones! I’ll pay you any amount of precious metal you want! You will be wealthy beyond your imagination!”

The Ghost Dwarf scout who got the drop on her smacked her bottom with a stick indignantly, eliciting a yelp of pain from Sage. “Quiet earth speaker! You’ve spilled ghostkin blood. Honor demand we shed yours, but you are in the domain of the dark queen. We will sell you to her folk, and you shall suffer horrors even we would not speak of.”

In the cart, the other prisoners waited for their fellow captives to awake. It was a truly odd and assorted lot; one male and one female Deep Elf, beaten and stripped down to their undergarments. The male had some nasty looking rashes on his neck and other parts of his body. Another was a Mushroom Man, or in his case, a mushroom kid, given how diminutive and unbothered he was. They had no need of garments, and his facelessness did not convey any sort of expression. Sitting in opposite parts of the cart were a muscular and well-built dwarf lass, and she suspiciously eyed the last member of the cart- a massive orc bound in chains rather than rope, his hatred for the dwarf woman apparent.

Alexis Ada Lovelace was possessed of an opinion; one of dubious veracity, but one that she nevertheless clung to. It was thus:

'Calamity is the test of Integrity.'

Of course, that Alexis tended to run long into one after another was either a testament to some aspect of her personality or a biproduct of her powers was under debate. If life were some grand job interview, Alexis would try to sell herself as an eternal seeker of problems to solve. Really, though, she just enjoyed stress.

There something so exciting about riding the edge of disaster that just made her heart beat all the harder. Could you be a cortisol junkie? Her last job had given her a weekly hit of it, but this new gig seemed to be shooting for some sort of award.

Sage had gone to Boston for a bit of trouble revolving a madman and a parallel dimension and a bunch of other nonsense that seemed like it would be better left to more combative people. Alexis had been interested, sure, but when you lived in a world peopled that could punch meteors out of the sky or call dark things from hoary netherworlds, you got in the habit of measuring your expectations.

No, the Boston problem was an Other Person's Problem. Alexis just contented herself with tidying the office, finding a decent cup of coffee, and-- and--

And that had been a few hours ago.

Alexis had been standing in a breakroom translating an Italian technical manual about how to install a cappuccino machine into Somalian when suddenly the booklet she had been holding had vanished. She felt something great and old and sickly pass over her. Her gorge had risen to her throat, and it was all she could do to prevent her locks bagel with chive from coming back up.

Alexis discovered she was standing in a cave, lit by strange bioluminescent fungi that cast an eerie blue sheen over everything. She discovered that she was not wearing her business attire anymore either. Instead, she was clad in a suit of dark brigantine and leather, with a quiver of arrows strung over her back. Against the wall was a recurve bow like the one she used to use on in her collegiate archery program. She looked down and observed she had a belt with a two-foot-long dirk and several throwing knives in wrist sheaths.

In the distance, she heard a familiar voice offering to bribe someone in exchange for her release. Here she was - in a strange place full of strangers, a primitive weapon in her hand, and no idea what to do. Oh, and one of the few people in the world she had some connection to seemed to be in danger. Alex felt her stomach tie into a bevy of knots as her cortisol spiked.

Aww, yeah, that's the stuff.

Alexis began to pick her way toward the slow moving cart. Adventure beckoned, it seemed.

Adventuring in the Underdark was extremely hazardous, especially with a solo human without adaptation to the environment. The Ghost Dwarf caravan had not only armed and armored guards, but also shadowed by invisible scouts. One such scout detects the presence of an out of place surfacer, attempting to sneak behind the caravan. Welp. An invisible blackjack to the temple would put her in her place. In with the other "livestock".

The twisted Ghost Dwarfs would then proceed to strip Alexis of literally everything. Also the prisoners were now also similarly relieved of any shred of dignity. No titillation from the situation was possible though, given the gravity of their plight; the caverns were dark or dimly lit at best, the air was uncomfortably cold and damp, especially when rocking the birthday suit look, and the dark dwarfs chanted a low, droning tenor marching song... hey, at least there was in-flight entertainment. Anyone privy to their language though would find the song about taking slaves, selling them or working them to death.

The passengers were not for conversation, save perhaps the Deep Elf woman, who eyed the new prisoner, and waited to greet her with a very, very familiar "So, You finally awake?"

So much for her heroic rescue.  That was sort of the rub about being a stealthy without having some sort of night vision.  Those that did and who were even sneakier laughed at your feeble attempts at stealth.

The slaver had hit her so hard she vomited.  Consciousness had left her for a time, and soon all she could feel was the cold damp of the air on her skin.  Her head was throbbing.  She would literally kill everyone of those little shits for some aspirin right then.

Her HUD pinged her, drawing her attention to the fact she had been spoken to.  Apparently, her connection to her computer was unphased.  She looked up and saw the conversation window over the unseen person's head.  Her HUD was displaying the words last spoken to her so she would not fall behind.  Good ol' HUD.

"Yes, I am finally awake," she said, her voice making her head pound.  "Ms...err, Mistress Lu?  Are you there?"

“I am, though I wish I wasn't. Inhale, lady Alexis. Inhale.” Sage simply responded to her inquiry, paused, then told her to... inhale?

The little mushroom thing scooted over beside Alexis, his hands being some strange spongy consistency when he laid his hands on her bare lap. He made some incomprehensible sound, like he’s never heard of vowels before. Then his mushroom cap suddenly released some spores into her face. It was not as unpleasant as one would expect spores would be, even as they altered the recipient’s language centers.

“I am Noid.” He said, “I am Noid!” he repeated, in a more excited tone, then returning to his seat. Suddenly, everyone’s speech was now comprehensible. Including the Ghost Dwarfs' horrid but very catchy, well-rehearsed and in-tune slaver song. The acoustics of the tunnels provided excellent reverberation.

“The spores should be in full effect. Welcome to the belly of the world, surfacer. You got a name? I am Ellistra.” The Deep Elf woman asked, now speaking in a comprehensible language.

The Deep Elf man covered in rashes beside her wasn't as receptive. In fact he was drenched in cold sweat, his pupils dilated. "...Uhhhnnn..."

The orc has been fidgeting in his seat, trying to break out of his ropes and wasting his energy. "Torr not afraid of dark stunty men. Torr will smash dark stunty men! AAAHHH!" His behavior was rightfully punished with a lash across his lap. He doubled over in pain.

"You stupid green skinned oaf. We have to conserve our energy to escape." The dwarf lady chided the orc, who only responded with a growl. She sighed and looked at Alexis, hoping she was more reasonable.

The Ghost Dwarfs had a morbid sense of humor, letting their prisoners speak freely. “…If anyone feels like making an escape attempt, now is the time. Hehe.” He made this jest as they emerged from tunnels into a magnificent underground chamber hundreds of yards in every dimension. They maneuvered their lizard drawn wagons onto a narrow stone bridge, suspended from the ceiling with some purplish black vine growths. Carved into the bridge were insectile themes, pervasively hornets and wasps. The roar of a waterfall echoed around and below them, meaning there was nothing but a deep void beneath the bridge, a cold black plunge into gods know where.

The pounding in Alex's head was subsiding, which was surprising considering how loudly those deep dwarves were singing.  She'd played table top roleplaying games before, and had some idea as to the context of her situation.  After glancing around to see if any dwarves were paying especially close attention to her, Alexis hid one of her hands and tried to manifest her utility knife.  

... -- ERROR --
...Spatial Storage Inaccessible
...Cause: Ambient Radiation

Alexis' right eye twitched as the deep dwarves belted out another chorus.  She looked up to Niao and spoke in accented Chinese.  

"So.  It may surprise everyone to know this isn't the first time something like this has happened to me," she said, wryly.  "Last time involved an Empire and a Dragon and it was entirely a mess.  I spent the entire time shouting at people, it felt like."

"It is useful to take stock.  We should list what everyone is able to do, like our friend Noid here.  I can pick locks and have some magic, but some of it is inaccessible down here.  I am presently unable call my tools to me.  Something about this place is blocking them from manifesting.  I have some food and supplies, enough for a few days if we ration, but the same circumstances apply."  

While she communicated this, her hand played against the wood of the cart.  She looked for any burr or splinter.  If she remembered her old gaming lore correctly, deep dwarves had a love for wealth rather than a love of craftsmanship.  Besides, the damp probably didn't help that much.

Her HUD began to tag the various slavers; little more than name and a vague sense of their status.  She was amused to note that they each had a red health bar hovering under each of their name plates.  

"The problem is getting clear of the field.   Do that and I have several weapons in storage, supplies, as well as 100 meters of rope.  Mistress Lu, can you call upon your magics at all?"

Niao dangled most uncomfortably from the pole, tied up like a captured hog. Still, she had the composure to speak normally whilst upside down, nude, above her fellow captives, her limbs aching uncomfortably from rope burn. She waited first, to let the meatshields, em, fellow prisoners, more thoroughly introduce themselves.

The Deep Elf woman took the lead to speak, blowing her dirty ivory hair out of her face. "Experience in being capture is not comforting, female surfacer. Please tell us you have equal experience in escaping." Ellistra said, before discussing the present company further.

“I was an adopted daughter of my house, so I was raised to protect my trueborn siblings from the shadows with blades, while stealing secrets from rival houses... by subterfuge, or seduction. Sadly, my house fell in the great game of the Deep Elves. I am without a House; I am as good as vermin.”
She paused and looked at her drooling, catatonic companion. “This is Malys, also a house guard but… sadly, I do not think he will do us much good.”

“Uuuhhh…” Malys seemed to barely stir at the mention of his name, as he absently scratched at his nasty rashes.

“…Lady Thoreka Thundershield is a warrior priestess of a mighty storm god, while Torr here is her sworn enemy, is a warrior of the Jawbreaker clan.” Ellistra continued.

“Torr strongest here. Torr smash stunty men and pointy ears!” He proclaimed loudly, beating his chest. Given his near gorilla like stature, that seemed plausible.

“You’ll doom us all. I swear. I’ll help us get free, lass, but I need my hammer if I am to call upon my god.” Thoreka said, shooting the orc a mean look.

“There is also the matter of the ogre back there.” Sage peered at the second wagon.

“Let me go! I am no mindless beast! I am Gilthanas! Speaker of the house of the rising sun!” An ogre took up the entire second wagon behind them, and he was silenced with many halberds pointed at his face.

“I am Noid?” The mushroom child perked up, wondering if Ellistrae was going to talk about him.

“And little Noid here, he allows us to speak with other. Probably the most crucial ability if we must attempt an escape. Yes, you are important little one.” Ellistra said with an uncommon affection.

“I am Noid!” he replied cheerfully.

Niao listened intently to all gathered. There was useful talents present, and some who were liabilities. She looked at Alexis and explained calmly, “I am sorry to say, but I have the most mundane of weaknesses- as my magic is intrinsically tied to the earth, I must be in contact with the ground at all times to have my power. The Ghost Dwarfs must be familiar with it to know to keep me off the ground… and with so many in close proximity, it is foolish to make an attempt anyway.” She paused, looking around as they approached the end of the bridge, which stopped halfway to the gigantic stalactites.

Niao closed her eyes, inhaled, exhaled. “We are too much at a disadvantage for now, odds stacked against us as they are. They have clearly collected all our gear, likely as spoils. I say we must wait.”

A stone bridge extended from the closest stalactite and precisely fit the slots in the hanging stone bridge. The slave caravan continued onward and reached a small hauling area, with ropes descending from on high, ending in palettes and nets. Some truly strange bipeds greeted them, half Deep Elf and half wasp, with yellow jacket colorations. All having the telltale curves of females. They were wearing- or perhaps it was part of their bodies- some organic carapace armor, wielding spears ending in vicious barbed heads. Four warriors spoke with the Ghost Dwarfs, discussing payment. A net was being descended to the landing, laden with ingots of precious metals in crates.

“I have never… seen these creatures before.” Sage murmured, surprised at meeting beings outside her knowledge.

They handed over all their gear to the wasp men, thankfully, meaning it’ll all be here. The crates of gear were hauled up first, out of sight. Then they were piled into the nets by twos, to be hauled up. The wasp men stuffed Alexis and Ellistra into a net, and were slowly hauled up. They were uncomfortably close as the net was tightened.  Ellistra closed her eyes, to murmur a prayer. “Hag Queen, curse my enemies. Lord of Murder, spill their blood. Lady of the Hunt grant me cunning. Lord of Retribution grant me revenge. Lord of the underworld, keep me from death another day.”

Gilthanas had to be hauled up on three ropes. Thoreka was paired up with Noid, the priestess comforting their translator, while Torr vehemently protested being with Malys. “Torr no like itchy man! Torr no want itchy!”

Niao, all by her lonesome, was placed in a wooden cage with a thick wooden floor. They were taking every precaution with her.

The Ghost Dwarfs turned their caravan around. The lead scout who struck Alexis even had the gall to bid them farewell. “Goodbye, livestock. May your demise be slow and agonizing. HAHA!” And with that, they crossed the stone bridge once more with their payment, out of sight, and out of the story. Maybe.

From then on, the environment transitioned from the dark chill of the tunnels, into a truly alien landscape. In a small clearing carved into the side of the stalactite, a host of the wasp elves looked upon their victims with sinister intent, their antennae twitching ominously. A single figure, standing a head taller than the rest, and being far more muscular – and most of all the only male seen so far – made his way over to their kneeling captives.

Sage was absolutely beside herself. Not a single metal weapon or armor among them all.

“Well, well. What a strange haul of fish my nets have caught.” He said, walking like he owned them. Well, at the moment. He did. “Two heretics- one already half dead. A stunted folk, a green skin, a talking ogre, a mushroom, and two… surfacers… one of which is apparently an earth speaker.” He paused to inspect each of his new captives and play things, taking a special delight with Ellistra and Alexis, “affectionately” gliding his alien hands across their faces and chins.

As he neared Thoreka, the priestess defiantly spat at his feet. “Untie me and fight me with honor, you yellow jacketed coward.”

He paused as if to process what happened, then viciously backhanded her. The dwarf, kneeling, buckled under the strike, but her stability kept her from falling over. “You hit like a goblin babe.” “Oh I’m sooo sorry, that was an unfortunate accident. ANYONE ELSE NEED TO SUFFER AN ACCIDENT?!”

As Alexis had done with the slavers, she had her computer begin to catalogue each of them.  Name plate, health bar, dossier.  It was something she often did with coworkers.  It made remembering birthdays and the names of people's children so much easier.  

It may be surprising to note just how many classes Alexis had taken in her life.  High level executive personnel tended to be kidnapped on occasion, and Alexis was treating this just like that sort of situation.  She wished had the chance to brief them all before they had stopped, however.  Fucking deep dwarves.  Even as she left, she gave each one of them the stink eye.  If she had a chance before this was done, each one was getting a ball full of taser.  

As Alexis had done with the band of slavers, she had her computer begin to catalogue each of them.  Name plate, health bar, dossier.  It was something she often did with coworkers.  It made remembering birthdays and the names of people's children so much easier.  

Alexis ignored the touch, letting her eyes go dead and looking into the distance.  When Thoreka challenged him, however, she winced internally.  She decided to risk a similar blow, in the interests of saving the others from the same.

In these situations, pride was surplus to requirement.  Alexis had to communicate to the others certain things.  She was trusting on Noid's ability to make her understood by her companions.  Drawing on her years of drama lessons, she again spoke in her bad Chinese.  

"Do not react to him," she whimpered.  She kept her eyes fixed on the large wasp bastard and made to shiver, her gaze wide and frightened.  She decided her 'character' would sound like she was praying.  She measured her voice in that sort of rhythmic cadence.

"He is looking to make examples and crush open defiance.  Anyone he views as a trouble maker he will separate out and openly discipline in front of the others.  Do not give him the excuse.  Pick your moment, Dwarf.  You must look cowed by him.  We'll settle accounts later.  For now, act submissive.  All of you."  She then began to 'break down' into sobbing tears.  Wailing and saying 'Momma' over and over again.  The hope was that this lot was so arrogant they wouldn't expect a captive to actively plot against them while they were being intimidated.

The Wasp elves next remove Sage from her wooden cage. If one were expecting her to somehow overcome dozens of armed warriors, then the expectation was dashed when she simply tripped over and fell on all fours, to the laughter of her captors. Sage did not pay them any mind. Her seismic sense allowed her to send out vibrations into the stalactite to reconnoiter their prison; this stalactite easily extended 200 feet down below, containing six roughly even levels 15 feet high each. There was a wealth of detail in the seconds she had contact with the ground.

Sage needed time to process the mental image. She needed to talk. “L-let me go. My family is wealthy. Very wealthy. You will be paid a ransom! Yes. Your weight in gold, easily.” First two levels. Arrival and processing platform, a general storage area for supplies below them, then their non-hybrid Deep Elf quarters below that.

Captain Dickhead approached and heard Sage’s plea. “Oh. A princess, have we? Well, well. Tell me your highness. What family do you belong to?” He decided to humor her.

“My father. He is the arch mage, Lu Feng. He has vast wealth in the Plane of Dust and Ash- he will pay for my safety.” Third and fourth sub levels. Some strange, hive-like structures housing resting wasp warriors. Training chambers and arena. Below, an organic armory, where they assembled their weapons. This was also where the bridge to the next stalactite was.

“Are you playing with me child? You would have me travel to another plane of existence?!” Sage was kicked in the chest for her trouble before the last two levels were made apparent. She lay on her back, clutching her aching arms.

“Know that I am not without reprieve. You must all be cold, hungry. Fear not, your accommodations are prepared, and you will be served a hot meal shortly thereafter. But first, a treat.”

Oddly enough, among their number there were non-wasp elves, regular dark elves of questionable station in a hierarchy seemingly dominated by these mutants. Which would explain Ellistra’s appearance. The Deep Elf servants, about six of them, brought out some mortar and pestles, grinding something up quickly. Then they gathered up all their product into a bowl, then next prepared what seemed to be like oil lamps with ceramic caps on them. They placed the ground up mushrooms into the lamps, then with a hole in the side, ignited them. Smoke began to build up in the lamps, then they approached the captives.

They started with their dark cousins, Ellistra and Malys. At first they resisted “Black Sleep Spores… no! no! I can’t have more of this!” Captain Dickhead laughed. “A past user, are we, cousin? Then your long famine is over.” Malys didn’t even seem to register what was happening, as he took a few whiffs and slowly laid down of his own will. He was carried away.

Ellistra resisted hard, head butting one of the slaves in the gut, and was kicked in her own gut for her trouble. She reflexively inhaled the toxic fumes and slowly succumbed, going from resisting to sucking down the smoke willingly.

Simultaneously other lamps were servicing the rest of the company. They had an extra-large dose for the ogre, who eventually succumbed and was carted away. The racial enemies both had their fill, the dwarf needing extra dosage due to her innate resistance. Noid was already a mushroom yet it seemed the Black Sleep affected him, though he absorbed them through his cap as he had no nose. His purple cap shrunk by half it seemed.

Sage and Alexis had their own bong between them. Two strong wasp warriors held her arms, keeping her still as she back away. One held her nostrils closed as the other punched her in the gut, making her gasp and take in the first sweet smoke that rose up from the lamp via mouth. She coughed as the resinous poison filled her lungs, like sucking down the worst city smog on earth.

The second and third were easier, and by the fourth the smoke was actually a pleasant warmth, like smooth, silky liquid velvet that flowed down her throat. The cold and pain of the present was replaced by a melancholic languor, the smoke was like the welcome first sun of summer, its life giving rays bursting in her chest and lungs. as Sage’s eyes rolled up and she had a grin on her face. After the fifth hit, all the fear, the anger, the pain was replaced with an artificial contentment. Who knew cold hard stalactite was so comfy? She laid down and curled up to sleep. “…Alexis… this is soooo niiiice… let’s have a sleep over…” she was carried off by a single normal dark elf, her frame making her one of the easier captives to move.

Finally, it was Alexis’s turn to imbibe the horrific (or totally awesome) mushroom smoke.

= = =

Whatever reason they had to drug their captives, likely included being too incoherent to observe their surroundings. Passing through cells, checkpoints, and stone bridges would be an afterthought to those caught in the Black Sleep’s embrace. An unspecified amount of time would pass, before the delightful high of the mushroom cocktail was replaced by a cold, damp, rough floor. Attempting to stand was also in vain, as the ceiling only reached 5 feet; only Sage, Noid and the dwarf could fully stand up straight.

The cell was not only low, but long and narrow, barely 9 feet across and as much long, so stretching while lying down was also a challenge. A low metal bench stretched the length of the cell, dividing the captives at least into two groups. Thoreka, Sage, Alexis and Ellistra on one side; Noid, Malys and Torr on the other. Thankfully Gilthanas the ogre had his own separate cell, being large as he was, and the possibility of him eating valuable slave stocks.

They were joined by 6 emaciated humans; four men and two women, all lying motionless in some pained sleep. Bostionians caught up in this madness. The cold air helped to mask the smell of sweat, excretion and other nastiness.

The air was humid and too chilly, likely single digit Celsius; the corners of the cell had piss gutters where water passed, bringing the temperature down further. A massive, iron barred hole in the wall opened up to a view of the cavern beyond, and also letting in cold air. It was obvious this cell was designed for maximum discomfort.

Sage rubbed her head, as it throbbed from the post-high crash. Her eyes were drawn to the large amounts of concentrated purple glowing moss on the walls. These were the things generating the Faeresee radiation, and in this proximity, even attempting to use her earth powers caused her a painful feedback.

“My head feels like it’s exploding, and my throat feels like sandpaper.” She commented, her raspy voice emphasizing that.

The wasps were thorough bastards with their captives. Their rope restraints were replaced with heavy manacles, and they were searched all over for contraband. Being nude also meant almost no places to hide anything, in addition to taking away their dignity.

Alexis watched it all happen with a detachment she had cultivated ever since she had become an adult.  Connection and empathy may have been her power, but she had learned long ago they were well known knives that others used to cut you.  She watched Niao, her friend, being taken down and treated like the worst of scum.  An old, familiar knot of anger filled her stomach.  The only outward sign of this was her hidden right hand, white-knuckled and clenching.

Unheard, Alexis began to subvocalize through her connection.  The computer began to record the events that were happening, using her senses as a camera.  And when they brought out the drugs, she ordered it to keep a timer, too.

Going into corporate culture, Alexis had expected many things.  Ruthless pragmatism, politicking, sexism.  What she hadn't expected was the fragrant drug use.  Oh, it wasn't as bad as junior executives snorting lines off the back of strippers in a board room, like some bad 1980s satirical comedy.  

Alexis' first encounter with it came when she was a Junior Intern at a Dot Com start up, shortly after college school.  She had only been 18 at the time, and still had certain expectations of what it would be like.  The bright, sunny aspirations of the newly initiated.  

What Alex found was twelve strung out technicians working a deadline. The team lead was a young man named Raol, the company's bright star. He was funny and slender and very handsome.  He used to love quoting Tarantino films at her in his accented English.  

It had been a nice, unexpected friendship.  One she hadn't cultivated. One morning, she had smiled hello at him at something clicked inside her head, and suddenly all the work he was doing made sense to her.  Bond formed.

Three weeks later, Alexis had a panic attack.  She felt her heart suddenly deregulate.  She pressed a hand against the wall, and nearly lost consciousness.  

Alexis Lovelace found Raol Vaas on the floor of the men's restroom  He had fallen halfway out of a beige bathroom stall, a puddle of red vomit covering the ground.  The smell was acrid and bitter, like antifreeze mixed with spoiled oranges.

It turned out Raol was addicted to amphetamines.  'Vitamin R', apparently, was a performance enhancing drug.  The razor focus of attention it gave you was used by people both in academia and technical fields to maintain the large amount of concentration they required.

Alexis had used drugs when she went to Oxford.  A little pot, some MDMA a few times.  She had never seen an addict before; someone who had it eating away inside them.  Who could smile at you and tell you jokes and take you out for drinks when you were lonely.

Since that day, Alexis had been wary of mind altering substances.  She saw the lamps, saw the effect it had on Ellistra, and a cold sweat began to take her.  All she could feel was the phantom irregularity of her heartbeat, the remember agony of the severed bond.  Raol's corpse.  Only it was her corpse.  

Alexis didn't need to fake shivering now.

= = =

The path leading to their cell was a daze for Alexis.  She could feel a part of her still working, translating what her senses took in and recorded it.  Despite the fact that she had a chronometer in her vision, time felt loose.  Witchy.

Her thoughts spiraled off on merry little fieldtrips.  She wondered what Sophia and Dabbler were doing right now.  She imagined them, all three of them and Niao, taking a picnic together. Niao had made 37 benches out of stone and proclaimed they were well prepared. Dabbler kept on summoning the Devil and stealing his potato salad and laughing when he cried.  Sophia had stolen her away to a secret, dark place and was kissing her corroded artery.  Alexis didn't want to admit how pleasant that last part was.

When she came to herself, Alex realized that it was a stone was stabbing into her neck.  Her head felt as thought it weighed a million pounds, but Sophia might get jealous.  Groggily, she sat up, realizing how cramped the conditions were.  She smacked her throbbing head against a stone wall.  Ironically, the spike of pain helped to clear it.  She ordered the recording to stop, then braced herself.  She looked down.

In her white and secret fist, numb from it's rictus grip, she could feel something.  Tucked away despite everything was an iron nail, about the length of her pinky.  It was dark and needle-like.  Alexis grinned viscously at it.

She looked up at Niao and pressed a hand against her.  "It's all right," she pressed the side of the nail against her bare thigh.  "Revenge is a great remedy for a sore throat."

Sage eyed the improvised weapon. “Good. Keep it hidden under the rocks. Maybe in the… sigh… piss gutter so they’re less encouraged to search the cell thoroughly. But we need something more.”

Sage knelt down to touch the ground again. This time, instead of earth manipulation she tried her seismic sense, and thankfully it manages to work, as it used only the smallest modicum of energy.

“This is the prison wing… three levels, ten cells per level. Not full, just a few cells, just a few captives, all human. Not more than forty, but they cram them into small cells anyway. Only one bridge in and out.” Sage sighed, and eyed the gutter. Her bladder told her enough time had passed. She went far to end of the room to handle business and said not another word coming back. These wasps truly had thought of every idea to strip their captives of dignity.

The others were beginning to come to albeit barely. Torr the orc vomited upon waking, eliciting a rare reaction from Malys. “…G… gross…” he said. Under the Black Spores he seemed a bit more lucid than normal “…Ell..Ell… Ellistra…” he mumbled, looking around.

The Deep Elf woman, who’d been a former user, suffered terrible withdrawal, shivering and drooling, her eyes bloodshot. Tholreka shrugged it off better than most, and put a rock in her mouth. “This’ll stop ye from bitin’ yer tongue lass.”

“I am Noid…” little Noid said groggily, sitting up and rubbing his cap.

Sage continues. “…Another thing. Only unmutated Deep Elves guarding this stalactite. I suspect there might be… bias against those who are unaugmented. We'll have to investigate this option further.” Sage turned to the Bostonians, who preferred to keep quiet and to themselves.

“…Hey you. We are planning to escape this place, we need your help. Anything you know would be useful.”

Only two were awake at the moment. The woman, lying down, staring out into space, simply muttered. “Don’t drink the gutter water. It’s salt. Newbies get thirsty. Some drink anyway.” Okay, useful. But damn. Constantly flowing undrinkable water. That was another checklist on their cruelty.

The awake man, who had deep dark lines under his eyes, did not bother look at them. He sat embracing his knees, and kept his eyes on his feet. “There’s no escape. There’s no way out. There is no hope.”

Sage sighed. These Bostonians couldn't have been here that long.

Alexis leaned close to Niao.  "Pretend we are intimate."  So saying, Alex placed her head against the Sage's as if they were close.  She wrapped her arms around the smaller woman and whispered again.  It was strange being naked with her coworker and being this close.  

"Don't involve them.  If the time comes, we'll take them with us.  We don't know how much this place has affected them.  This cell isn't meant to torture us, it's meant to indoctrinate us.  I imagine that eventually they'll demand tasks from us and in return offer small kindnesses.  Or just holding out those fucking brassieres again.  Eventually we'll be like those slaves outside.  Too gone to their addiction to fight, despite how much they hate their captors."

"I have a..." she so desperately wanted to say recording, "...an idea of how long it took us to reach this place.  You are able to sense it, yeah?  Do you think you could navigate us out of here?"

“Just let me stand outside of this cell for five minutes. I’ll know the layout of the entire prison and every little secret they have.” Sage promised. Then when she realized they might’ve been drawing attention, she lay down next to Alexis, blushing heavily, heart racing. She continued any further planning and dialogue in low whispers, the guards glancing in their direction more than once.

Now, in the cell, there was nothing to do but wait and bide their time. Sage eyed every square inch of the cell to check its features. All she found were bones, buried waste… but she did manage to find a nail. An iron nail. This was good, and she stashed it in the painful anti-power mushrooms.

Two wasp warriors arrived with two human slaves pushing a cauldron on a cart. “Meal time, wretches.” The warriors announced, and their Bostonian fellows quickly assuming a kneeling position by the metal bench.

A third Deep Elf led the food duty. He was a sorry looking fellow with one arm missing below the elbow, and the left side his face exposed bone and flesh. Quisellius and the two human slaves brought the cauldron towards the metal bench, and pressed a button, making the middle depress downward. It was now apparent what they were doing. All the bars, railings and divisions outside the cells meant these weren’t prisons they were kept in, but pens. And now they were being fed like pigs. They were livestock to these vile insect beings. This was trough, and they were being slopped.

The humans held the cauldron steady, while Quisellius shoveled the goop out, making sure the trough reached the back, but barely. The human captives automatically knelt and shoveled the food into their mouths, the newcomers hesitating. Torr was first to dig in, pushing the weaker Bostonians beside him. They were too weak to complain, getting what morsels they could.

Sage looked at him interestingly. The Deep Elves were a proud people, and this one had the bearing of a once proud warrior. His body was wiry and muscular, his good arm clearly well versed in the use of a blade. To be reduced to slopping duty meant likely he was not only low on the pecking order, he fell from lofty heights, such was the disdain on his face.

“What happened to your arm?” Sage tried to ask him in his native tongue, and he shot her a surprised glance, keeping eye contact. He then grunted, and pretended not to care. This was a mistake.

The wasp warriors drew their stinger blades and pointed at Sage. “No talking! Only eat at mealtime!” Sage lowered her head and murmured an apology, and took a good look at the slop they were served.

They were served a thin gray gruel, steam still rising from it but rapidly cooling due to the room’s temperature. It was more water than grain, and if that was its only offense, Sage would’ve dug in. No, they had used spoiled grain, and there was a distinct mildew smell coming from it, and some blue spots hidden in the gruel. There were also fat weevils and fat maggots in it, having died during the cooking process.

Sage breathed fast and gulped, her stomach growling from hunger while simultaneously churning from the sight. She could not eat this, but envied her fellows who managed the will to eat. The gruel vanished quickly, as their captors made barely enough for them all. It was just barely below what they needed to stay alive. They were being weakened, being worn down physically and mentally. Tholreka even grabbed a maggot near Alexis and gulped it down with no protest.

Once the gruel was gone, they brought in a second cauldron, filled with water. Considering how cleanly they ate; this one was more bearable- save for the fact the water was ice cold. Now they had to contend with hypothermia too. Sage sighed and put her face into the trough, slurping down the cold water, her face going numb from the chill air, her long hair a wet mess.

“That’s right. Behave. Obey. You will live.” The guards said, escorting the slaves and Quisellius away. Another long period of silence lay ahead of them, interrupted only by her growling stomach.

Now, it was probably no secret to anyone that knew her that Alexis was a foodie, and a pretty unrepentant one.  Her mother had been a chef and had instilled in Alexis a love of food from a very young age.  Something about a slop the color of moldy newspaper be eaten so voraciously caused something to curl up inside her.  She desperately wanted sushi all of a sudden.  Ironically, she had some, but it was shunted away just beyond reach.  That made her just want it all the more.

She could not bring herself to eat the gruel, but she knew she wouldn't last long if she didn't have any water.  So, Alex braced herself and dipped her cupped hands into the frigid liquid and sipped careful mouthfuls.

It was one thing to know that someone was trying to dehumanize you.  It was quite another to  actually live through it.  Closing her eyes, Alexis let her mind flow along the connection to the machine she was connected to.  It was cold there, yes, but not this depraved humiliation.  It was the crisp, clear, and comforting.  Ah, there was her 'workstation', a floating cloud of spreadsheets and data and reports.  

Alexis began to run scenarios with their capabilities in mind.  The entire thing seemed to clinch on getting Ms. Lu free and away from the magical suppression.  Then she was going to go to each and every one of those wasp assholes and pull off their whole ass.  But no, no... calm.  Clear.

She did put 'Pull off their whole ass' as a bullet point on her agenda board, however.  It paid to keep one's priorities in mind.  It kept you sane.

With a thought, Alexis had the computer tell her what she needed to defeat these locks.  They were primitive, warded lock that utilized false groves to prevent picking.  However, the false groves could be bypassed by a specially shaped 'key' that simply turned the two tumblers that were required to open the lock.  These were relatively simple, and the channel wide.  The nail she had found would function, if she could flatten the 'head' into a mild T-shape.  This should be enough to open the lock.  

Alex opened her eyes and felt the pain and grogginess return.  She let out a breath.  She was so cold.  "I... need a rock."

The gravity of the situation had even sunk into the orc’s thick skull. The big brute meekly produced a rock he was hiding, his ‘bug smashing’ rock. “Torr have rock. Torr give rock to lady. Lady give rock back to Torr.”

“Move over lass.” Tholreka saw what Alexis was attempting, and she and Ellistra move in front of Alexis to better conceal her activity. “A nail? Excellent.” The assassin commented.

There was a frequent rotation of watchers. At two shifts they brought in a hybrid, and that was when they had to be most vigilant in their activities; but it seemed they were short on staff, as one shift had a pair non-augmented elf guards that seemed rather indifferent. Once they were settled in, This particular pair were as much concerned with getting their next Black Spore high as being effective wardens. They taunted the prisoners as well with the sweet poison smoke.

It felt like too much time had passed. Even with the pragmatic spooning, the shivering and chattering of teeth, it was just too cold. Joints and limbs became stiff. The telltale steps of the guards coming with a cauldron caused all the others to stir from their deathly torpor. Once again, the one-armed, maimed elf was doing the serving.

Then the most peculiar thing happened. Noid expelled some transparent spores, catching Quisellius, Sage and Alexis. “I am… Noid.”

The guards were not happy at the mushroom’s actions. “Wretched Noid.” For his trouble, the wasps came and took his arm in one swift cut. Thankfully he was a mushroom, and there wasn’t much blood; but Noid clutched his arm in pain. “I am Noid!” he sounded like he was crying.

“There, there lad. It’ll grow back.” Tholreka said, as she and the other prisoners dug in.

“I am Noid.” He agreed, and joined the meal.

“Stupid mushroom… hmph… that one isn’t moving.” Quisellius glanced at one prisoner lying in the back not moving. He slowly pushed his way into the cell, and his thoughts were somehow now audible to Sage and Alexis. Sage just realized the immense contribution Noid just made.

“You! You’re definitely not fond of the wasps. Why aren’t you like them?” Sage thought. She yielded at last to the ache in her gut and scooped up the foul gruel. She puts it in her mouth and it took all her will not to vomit all over the trough.

“I am myself because I was found unworthy. Telepathy spores. Hmph. Ask your questions; better company that these spore addled weaklings, or those mutants.” Quisellius shoo’d the prisoners aside and stood over the unmoving prisoner. He kicks him twice, and seeing no response, began dragging him out of the cell.

“I can sense there is a gulf between the hybrids and you unaugmented Deep Elves.” Sage made her statement, trying to concentrate while gulping down a second handful, coughing from the horrid smell.

“To be a hybrid is no augmentation, no improvement. It is a vile curse.” Quisellius responded.

“We can help you. Can you-”

“The wasps control all the keys. Ask another question. Quickly.”

“Uh. Uh… What’s your deal?” Sage asked, realizing how short their conversation was.

“Quisellius is my name. Once I commanded this prison camp. No longer. Foolishly I threw myself at a corrosive black ooze; for my dutiful loyalty, I lost my station and my woman to Sicarius. The hybrid who welcomed you. Now. Hurry, what else?” he said, purposefully walking as slow as he can, dragging the corpse with him. To make absolute sure the prisoner had expired, the wasp hybrid took their stinger blade to his throat and slit it open. If you died in the cell, they made sure you left dead.