Imagine your PCs stuck in the webs unable to move while hordes of spiders are moving in. They free them self just in time. Couple of burning hands and spiders are dead. But what is that monstrous clicking? Oh, the Mother is coming.
When I was little my mother told me that if I would misbehave the drow would come and take me away. I guess it was true. I lied, I stole, I killed. And now drow took me as their prisoner.
They speak undercommon. I can understand only snippets. Something about “she” and “eat”. Others are scared. Me? I am glad that it is over. No more horrible choices. They brought us to some alter. There is a hole above it. Something is whispering from it. And it whispers to me.
The Weaver of Whispers – Lady Silk
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