He had expected to see her movements as a spider entwining a web, but even with the stiffness in her arms, she was graceful and imperious. Granted, Amal had always been a lowly street rat and he realized any elf likely seemed noble to him, but it still had a small impression on the thief. He stood back to give her space, wanting his 'ally' to not feel skittish. Amal had backstabbed "friends" before, but only at great need. He preferred being casual, even with someone who was rightly feared by every surface dweller. 

"Just some gruel and water, but nothing big. I have a feeling we'll find something, though." He remarked with an easy smile as an answer to her question. He gave her a wink, gesturing with a curt movement of his head. "Come on." 

Amal moved out of her cage, spinning the keys around the ring until he deftly maneuvered one of the more narrow keys between his index and middle finger as a makeshift punch-knife. He took the front, to put her at ease. He always kept an eye behind him, however. There was likely going to be a part of him that suspected treachery from her for a long time, but that was only pragmatic. 

The rock walls around them were natural, ribbed with ubiquitous wear from ancient water flows and jagged with stalagmites and stalactites at the entryways into other cavernous chambers. After a long, dank tunnel, they found one such passage, yawning before them like a toothed maw. Within they heard the pitter-patter of diminutive feet and small curses in a guttural tongue. Amal paused, holding his hand out to signal her to stop. 

He turned to her and placed a finger on his lips, and with a wry smile, he bounded forward. To anyone unused to the dark, it would look as if he just disappeared, however Charynrae's keen eyes saw his skillful and silent movements over the next half a dozen meters, slipping by small pitfalls and imperfections in the floor as if they existed not at all. Amal poked his head out gingerly to view the sight of the next chamber. There was a large firepit near an exit on the far left, and two goblins knelt before it, holding small sticks with rats impaled upon them, chattering to one another as they awaited their meal to finish cooking. Another goblin strode across the room, it's long ears notched and half-cocked like a mongrel dog's. Amal's eyes followed its path, and he smiled broadly. On the right side of the room, past another passageway that led Ibrandul knew where, was a table and a back shelf with a variety of weapons and shields, piled but more or less separate in some small measure of organization. 

Long years thieving for Calimport pashas had taught him peripheral vision was often the most important in detection, and so he waited. Amal waited until the lone goblin passed him, and the moment he knew the small, cruel thing could not spot him, he fell upon the thing with one jump. Amal was swift and brutal, holding its mouth closed as he twisted his strong arms sharply, snapping the thing's neck like the swift kill of a pouncing tiger. It fell limp in his hands, leaving only a small groan the other goblins were too busy speaking to hear, or rather acknowledge. Amal slowly placed the goblin on the floor, and then took a small, notched dagger off its belt. 

He twirled the weapon in his hand and even flipped it over his head into his other hand, showing off a bit. The small show did not last long, however. He stalked across the floor, and the two goblins did not even know what hit them. With a strong kick, he sent one flying into the firepit to burn alive. It screamed in pain and shock, letting out miserable shrieks as it tried vainly to climb out. The other goblin was too slow to turn, as Amal placed the knife against the thin neck of the goblin before it could grab at the small spear it had on the floor next to its dropped meal. 

"Where are we?" Amal demanded, and the goblin snarled at him. Amal grabbed the back of its head and grabbed its spindly hair, shoving it down to knock into the stone floor. He brought it back up and pressed the dagger harder. "Speak! And in a way I can understand, or shall I give you to my friend here?" 

It seemed to understand, as it's eyes widened in horror as Charynrae came into view. Even goblins seemed to be intimidated by the sight of drow. "P-Please don't hurts me! I am just here to serve the great masters!" 

"I won't ask again. Where are we?" 

"Zhengyi's lair! Castle Peri-luss!" It barked. It wasn't until it stammered out the words "V-Vaasa" that Amal had any inkling of meaning from its words. Whoever or wherever they were, apparently they were very far north. 

Among the piles of weaponry and shields, Charynrae and Amal would find a number of weapons. In a corner lay an obsidian mace of blacksteel, flanged wickedly. A few longswords and long daggers of middling quality lay together, though one longsword seemed castle-forged of fine quality with a mirror polish. On the table were small, bearded hand axes, usable to throw or keep as one-handed weapons. Across the table's expanse lay a larger battle axe with a spiked back embedded into the wood. A kite shield behind it had the emblem of waterdeep emblazoned upon it, with a steel center and a gilded trim. At the edge of the table was a staff evidently made of darkwood, slightly taller than Amal. A sailor's buckler and a cutlass kept the staff from rolling off. Against the wall, a brass-colored round shield of what looked to be dwarvish work leaned, and beside it stood a leaf-headed spear with wing tips, easily 9 feet in height. Twin daggers of what appeared to be elven make were crossed and sheathed in a black belt, both the belt and dagger hilts were stylized with the symbol of the unicorn. A light crossbow with thirty bolts in a pack beside it sat atop the shelf, and in a leatherbound sheath was a sailor's saber with a kraken upon its hilt. Finally, there was a seemingly iron-made one-handed warhammer with the head wrought in the shape of a red dragon laying atop an iron shield with a similar design, save the shield's emblem was the open maw of the wyrm. 

A small, scattered collection of copper and silver coins and a rolled up piece of parchment lay upon the table, scattered and seemingly thought of as useless. After some fishing, they might find two burlap sacks with accompanying straps. 

Before Amal decided what to do with the pitiful goblin, a movement from the largest exit drew his eyes. He heard a growl like that of a wolf's, and at the entryway stood a hairy, angry bugbear. Its fingers were long and powerful, and its nails were sharp. He had only seen one once before in his life, the biggest goblinoids usually far north of Calimshan. Broad shoulder, it stood as tall above Amal as the man did to Charynrae. It's yellow eyes went bloodshot as it realized just what was happening, and it grabbed at a wicked, spiked mace at his side. 

"Experiments!" It roared, and Amal felt like it was calling both he and the drow that. Either way, the bugbear was ready to charge either Amal or Charynrae.