Episode 47 - Swarm!

Previously on All Drow, All the Time

The party had pressed eastward through the Underdark and forged a fragile alliance with Lord Tyrannakis, a wounded beholder who had escaped the clutches of Matron Mother Maelora of House Gullion. She had chained him to the Vidrefact Crystal, draining his essence to fuel her unnatural youth, and branded his central eye shut with a drow Sigil of Binding to keep him from nullifying the crystal’s magic.

Hoping to free him, the party prepared to remove the sigil — but first needed to rest and ready the spell Dispel Magic.

During Tyrannakis’s uneasy slumber, he groaned and whimpered as if trapped in a nightmare. Then the air itself warped. Reality folded inward, and from the dream‑stuff around him, another beholder took shape, its central eye snapping open with malevolent delight.

“Beware, I live! Zod the Unblinking is awake! You belong to Zod now. You will obey. You will serve. You will kneel. Kneel before Zod!”

However, the creature didn’t understand. Heroic Inspiration bends the knee to no one.

A brutal battle erupted. Steel flashed, spells cracked, and Tyrannakis’s massive, tooth‑filled maw joined the fray. When the dust settled, Zod the Unblinking blinked no more.

In gratitude, Tyrannakis promoted the party from “Slave” to “Useful Tools.” Wynter, having successfully cast Dispel Magic and removed the Sigil of Binding, earned an additional honor. That of “Functioning Instrument.”

With their beholder ally freed and Zod defeated, the party continued their journey toward the drow city of Holoth, to restore the Vidrefact Crystal with the Moonshard Crystal and end the perpetual dusk gripping the world above.

Traveling south, they once again encountered the Proud Boyz Battle, still raging and already in progress. Rather than charge through the chaos, the party chose to go over it. Kai soared with the Cloak of the Bat, Wynter wild‑shaped into a Night-wing, and Ahl d’Kukyz cast Fly, lifting himself and Scomitch high above and past the fray.

Twelve miles deeper into the Underdark, the whispers began.

Some sounded like the party’s own voices. Others echoed their private conversations, amplified and distorted. One mimicked Ahl d’Kukyz singing — but warped and audio-tuned.

As a precaution, the party stuffed cloth and wax into their ears, hoping to block out whatever siren‑song lurked in the deep.

Then the honeycomb stone began to sweat, coating the ground in a thin, oily sheen. Pale, slug‑like creatures with humanoid mouths wriggled from the holes in the walls and dropped from above, gathering into a hungry swarm with the band Heroic Inspiration on the menu.

Let’s roll initiative.