The Underdark's reaches await.
It's the middle of a gloomy... well. Who cares about what time of day it is? We're in the underdark, that means that weather conditions always include a Stygian darkness almost palpably filling the air, gloominess, and a real risk of a sudden and violent demise. This part of the endless night is no different.
You wouldn't say Ned'Cirannis is prepared for a trek out into the winding corridors of the Underdark, his attire has not changed from the usual one. And yet, he very much is planning to leave for those passages where he feels quite at home, with a few goals in mind. Most of these goals include interacting with the wildlife, specifically the oozes that can be trained and anything that can produce a potent venom, and studying his brother's strengths and weaknesses. Right now, he was standing at the outer gates of the city of Menzoberranzan, together with the aforementioned sibling. Both of them have taken their chosen steeds, Ned'Cirannis a cube of repulsive-looking jelly, and Belar-bryn atop a not particularly more charming disturbingly enormous bat.
His eyes are already directed into the corridor, looking as if they can physically pierce through the darkness, leaving two neat holes. "Ready?" He checks, setting out himself without worrying too much about Belar'Bryn's response to the question. It was, as they say, rhetorical.
You wouldn't say Ned'Cirannis is prepared for a trek out into the winding corridors of the Underdark, his attire has not changed from the usual one. And yet, he very much is planning to leave for those passages where he feels quite at home, with a few goals in mind. Most of these goals include interacting with the wildlife, specifically the oozes that can be trained and anything that can produce a potent venom, and studying his brother's strengths and weaknesses. Right now, he was standing at the outer gates of the city of Menzoberranzan, together with the aforementioned sibling. Both of them have taken their chosen steeds, Ned'Cirannis a cube of repulsive-looking jelly, and Belar-bryn atop a not particularly more charming disturbingly enormous bat.
His eyes are already directed into the corridor, looking as if they can physically pierce through the darkness, leaving two neat holes. "Ready?" He checks, setting out himself without worrying too much about Belar'Bryn's response to the question. It was, as they say, rhetorical.




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