Titian tried to just walk faster to get away from the scary Drider lady. When that didn't work, he took off in a sprint, but almost immediately tripped over something and slammed the ground. Luckily, nothing in his bag exploded, since his face took all the damage.
When this happened, he lost all hope of escape and surrendered to his fate. He turned towards Mishka, on his knees, and whined, "PLEASE! D-don't wrap me up and suck out my organs! Just kill me now!!"
The arachnid-thing was already directly behind him as he fell, and was quick to muffle his pleading with both of her hands. One was soft as silk and the other was literally a talon spawned from the abyss. It's eyes did not look at him, instead staring at the other females to insure they did not catch on to all the commotion.
"...male... What kind of potions can you make?" She whispered. "Can you make the polymorph kind?..."
"Can I make-? Yes! I can make those! I make them all the time!"
"...N-n-not so loud, male, please..." The woman-thing looked even more awkward, and was gazing at the other two women even harder now. She sounded angry, embarressed and cooing all rolled into one, resulting in an awkward but hopeful rasp. "Will... will they work on... you know... and how long will they last?..."
"...I... I don't have any money but... I'll protect you from those two, huh?" Inhuman eyes glinted in the dark as she dragged him slightly closer, yanking his feet under below her strange ungainly body with her back legs. The expression on her face made it seem like she hadn't quite decided if she was trying to inspire fear or attraction herself. Maybe she figured they were both the same to a lowly male? "You'd like a smart, fearsome female taking care of you, wouldn't you?..."
Through those pouting lips, the glint of fangs...
Titian pulled some sorta bag out of his bigger bag, and held it in front of him like it was some sort of shield. He looked everywhere but at Mishkala. "I-I could maybe make some that last... twenty- no! Twenty two minutes..." Suddenly, a bit of curiosity sneaked in with the fear, and he whispered, "What do you need them for??"
Mishkala's wings twitched with agitation, and her face revereted to looking completely stoic. "T-t-twenty minutes is... enough... I guess... thank you..."
Then, after a moment of consideration, she gave him a harsh look. The myriad legs squirmed uncombfertably. "T-t-they are for... T-they are for n-nothing, okay?..."
"I'll some for you when we get back..." Titian stood up and brushed off his clothes. "Next time you want to know something.. please don't sneak around behind me, okay?" Though after a moment, he realized a drow coming straight at him might be just as terrifying.
"T-thank you..." The drider responded simply. She didn't smile, but a little shake of her wings suggested she was pretty pleased about him agreeing. "Only... Don't tell the others, please... Okay?..."
Even whilst Mishkala was still talking, she seemed to sheepishly back off and then quickly bolt away, vanishing back into the dark.
The group made it back to Abigail's without much in the way of further incident. Zombies were slow and easily dealt with or avoided in small numbers, after all.
Naturally, Abigail greeted everyone with a hug and a chaste kiss. Except for Mishky, of course, who got a tight hug and a rather passionate kiss.
"You're back! I was so worried about all of you! Did you get his notes? Was there much trouble?" She was going a mile a minute, eyes and smile full of excitement. "Oh, wow, I'm so glad you're all back and okay!"
Mishkala was positively glued to Abigail from the moment they got back, even childishly refusing to let go and being dragged along whilst the bubbly stitcher greeter the others. She might have weighed about as much as a dust mote, but those flappy excited wings and floppy legs and unholy talons and stuff kinda did get in the way.
"I'm-sorry-we-took-so-long-and-I-really-really-missed-you-and-" The drider let off a rapid, hoarse whisper as she did so, at least until the point where she ran out of breath. "...W-w-we got everything... Lord Burnside even sent his best wishes... Well... his, erm... ghost did..."
From her satchel (some might have called it a saddlebag), she immediately fetched the thick wad of books and dusty papers that she had scooped up from the man's office, and then placed them directly into Abigail's hands, all somehow without managing to let go of the woman at all.