After the fleeing acolyte’s footsteps faded away down the tunnel, the companions gathered themselves at the top platform. Drawing nearer to the largest cylinder, the could see that it, too, had more of the disembodied hands within it, swimming about. Glad that it had never been broken, despite the splash from Sigurd’s Acid Arrow spell damaging the exterior, they resolved to stay clear of it for now.

A further exploration of the area revealed other horrors, however. All around were implements of sadistic design – saws, hooks, blades, needles and other bits of metal in peculiar twisted shapes. Many were still caked in what ted shapes. Many were still caked in what might been fresh blood, or some other substance. Karl was briefly tempted to take a particularly nasty looking dagger as a new weapon, but the thought of it’s previous use was too much for him to bear.

Iben , who had been last up the ladder, moved slowly around the room. He quivered with rage at the obscene and horrific acts that were indicated by the various tables and benches throughout the room. Many tables had thick leather straps hanging loosely from them, and on the wall a set of short chains and manacles indicated that not all of the victims were laid down before the torture began.

Aengus, with his enhanced vision compared to the others and quicker speed, had ranged further into the room. An oath sounded from him as he called Thunder forwards.

“Get over here, now! There’s another Drow on this table, and she’s still alive! Move!” Hurrying forwards, the Warforged moved up to see for himself. He found Aengus undoing a series of straps that had bound a Drow woman to a table. Her skin was stretched in places, and there were several scars along her arms and a couple on her face. Checking her body, the Warforged noted analytically that her breathing was shallow and ragged, and that her life-force was weak. He began to help as best he could.

After a few minutes of attention, the unconscious woman began to come around. Seeing the metal face above her she shrank back in fear, so Thunder stepped back calmly and allowed the more personable Aengus to speak to her in the Elven tongue. Hearing his voice she began to babble and whimper back to him, and although he did his best to calm and soothe her she still shouted and ranted. Eventually admitting defeat, he called Thunder forwards again who administered a simple sleeping draught – a trick he had learned as part of his training as a Healer. She slumped back on to the table, her head gently lowered by the Eladrin.

“What was all that about?” queried Sigurd. “I don’t speak Elven, but she sounded very agitated. Did you manage to get anything useful out of her?”

Taking a deep breath and pushing his hair back, Aengus, for the first time in the weeks that they had been together, looked rattled. “Her name, as far as I can gather, is Purpura. She is, or was, a slave to House Infanti, a Drow noble family. I don’t know anything further about them, unfortunately. Although the Drow and the Eladrin share a language, the use of words is sometimes very different. She kept speaking of stairs, a garden, and flowers. She repeated those things over and over again – wouldn’t talk of anything else.” He looked around, the disgust at what he saw evident on his face.

“I think she was being modified, changing somehow. The Drow like to work on their slaves, see if they can make them better. The process is known as Fleshwarping, and you saw some of the results in those acolytes we fought just now, and their leader, the Alchemist. He’s clearly been working on himself for some time – thinking about it, I believe those tentacles he attacked with may actually have been his intestines.”

Iben, still a Kindraeder at heart and not used to this kind of depravity, turned a mild shade of green at the thought. Aldis had already moved away from the bench to kneel and pray for those killed.

Continuing, Aengus said “I think I can bring her back, if I can study what’s been done to her and try and reverse it. Thunder, if you’d be willing to help I think we can save her life?”

Before Thunder could open his mouth Sigurd spoke harshly, saying “She’s a filthy Drow slave! Why are we wasting her time on her? We are, in case you’d forgotten, in the middle of a Drow city with no known way out and enemies on all sides, and you’re willing to put everything on hold so that you can play doctor with this woman?”

Karl threw Thunder a look that said I’m keeping well out of this, and the Gnome slipped away to check the area in case of attack. Iben joined him.

Putting some diplomatic notes into the conversation, Thunder considered his words and spoke. “We have the facilities here to help her. We can carry her with little effort, as she is weak and light in weight. I care for the survival of all living things, and if she was a slave she can hardly be blamed for the actions of her owners. Let us make a stretcher and carry her with us, if we can.”

His calm voice prevailed, and a stretcher was constructed for the woman. As it was completed, Karl’s voice came back from the edge of the room.

“Hey everyone, I think I’ve found that staircase she was talking about.”