Tallingarde the beautiful, a shining beacon of hope, or at least that is what some would call it.
Oh, the place is pleasant enough for most, the cities clean, the people happy and healthy. Crime is almost nonexistent, and the island nation thrives.
But for anyone who does not fit the Mitran's ideals, well, things are not quite so pleasant. Few can argue that the courts are not fair, they deal with crimes by the high and the low with equal fervor. But the punishments are almost always harsh, and running afoul of the law is rather easy to do.
If you were not already aware, you have just learned just how harsh the blade of justice can be in this land. Judged guilty of a serious crime, you have been stripped of everything, and are being sent to Branderskar prison to await your final fate, death by execution, or a life of hard labor in the salt mines.
From multiple parts of the land you have come, but your destination is the same. Castle Branding was once an important coastal fortress, but its military importance came to an end when House Darius won the war of succession eighty years ago. It has since been repurposed into a prison for Tallingarde's worst criminals. Renamed Branderskar, the care of this place has passed through many hands. The title of Warden here is one of distinction and honor, many who held it have gone on to become lords and knights of the realm.
You are transported in a small caravan, Two iron bound wagons surrounded by a score of armed men. Two witch hunters are with them, ready to shut down any magical mischief.
You travel in heavy chains, wrist and ankle manacles attached to a chain binding all four together. The known spellcasters in the group bear an additional impediment, heavy metal gauntlets locked onto the hands. Within them, the wearer's fingers are prevented from moving to form somatic components.
You get a glimpse of Branderscar prison from a distance, but the guards place hoods over your head as the group makes its final approach. You can hear dogs barking as the wagons roll and bump their way across the long bridge, and the rattle of chains as a series of portculli are opened before you.
Eventually, one by one, you are taken from the wagons and led on foot. Forcing you to your knees, the guards finally remove the hoods. You find yourself in a large room of some sort. It might have been an audience chamber once. In addition to the guards you had on the road, another dozen men stand at attention. The new additions wear tabards with Branderscar's sigil on it, a stylized representation of the prison over Mitra's eight pointed sunburst. For each of you, a guard stands on the chain between your legs, with a knee pressed into your back, effectively pinning your lower legs to the ground. After her wild efforts to free herself on the road, the guards took an additional precaution with the incredibly strong barbarian known as Jesla, a collar with two stiff poles attached circles her neck, and two strong men stand braced, forcing her head into a safe position, in addition to the third standing behind her.
Directly before you is a small table, a well lit brazier with some manner of brand shoved into the coals, and two more men. The first is a thin and elderly man in robes denoting him as a priest of Mitra. The other is a greasy looking thug in heavy scale mail. The latter speaks up. "I am Seargent Blackerly, welcome to the last day of your pathetic lives."
One of the guards hands Blackerly a list, and he goes down the line with it. "Respar, High Treason, looks like we've got a fun one coming up. Jesla, piracy, I can certainly believe it, this one doesn't look fit for decent society. But she's a beauty compared to, lets see… Eya. Yet another High treason! Our lucky day, and Witchcraft as well. I suppose we'll just have to burn the body parts after we tear you apart. Finally we have Kiven Aloro, Aloro? So the rumors were true then, this ought to be good. And you're here for High Theft. It'l be the mines for you then, those soft hands will be covered in blisters in no time."
This game has been ported over from another forum that caused problems shortly after this began, posts copied from there, hence some odd formatting to begin with.
Eya stands lined up with the others. She’s a tiefling, roughly five foot, seven inches tall with a small frame. Her skin is ashen colored and she has two small horns protruding from her head, growing slightly backwards at a low angle. Each horn branches a little and a smaller one protrudes, almost like branches. Her ears are pointy and protrude towards the back of her head. She has multiple piercings along her ears and on the left side of her nose. Her hair is cut relatively short and is a violet color. Her eyes are a dark yellow-orange with thin black slits down the center of them serving as her pupils. Her lips are black and she has a medium length, devilish tail that ends in a triangular tip. Halfway down the tail her skin appears different, hardened, scaly, and almost black in color. The same is true from halfway down her calves down to her feet. Her nails are sharp and black like obsidian.
Eya keeps a calm expression as she studies the room, burning the images of the guard’s faces into memory. Her eyes eventually make their way to the fiery brazier and the branding rod inside it. It doesn’t take her long to study the magic symbols along it. She grits her teeth and her eyes flare up with rage, but only for a moment. As Sergeant Blackerly passes in front of her and finishes his rude comments, she simply snarls, “You’re a dead man,” she pauses for a moment and scans the other guards in the room, “... Along with every other shitstain guard in this room. You better hope and pray your fire is hot enough.”.
the Unobtrusive says...
When the Sergeant introduces himself and offers a 'welcome,' Respar grins and says, "Yeah, this will be the final day of this 'pathetic' part of my life. I fully expect things to take a turn for the better… "But the greasy man ignores his remark.
Once the man begins reading their crimes and sentences, Respar is silent. He is counting the number of people in the room, evaluating their skills, which hand they use to wield weapons, what might stay sheathed if a fight breaks out, etc. He does he turn and survey his fellow prisoners as well. Anyone watching him would see he was doing his best to appraise them as well, both professionally, and when it came to the tiefling and the burly barbarian woman, with a more… personal eye. Looking at each he briefly smiles to himself, his thoughts remaining unspoken.
When the tiefling makes her threats, he shakes his head slightly. He's not going to waste his energy on anything like that, nor draw unnecessary attention to himself. To be honest, these folks are doing their job. They might be totally deserving of killing, but for him, escape is his priority. He won't shed a tear if he has to kill any of their guards, but he won't celebrate either. In fact, leaving them alive to answer for losing one of the few prisoners convicted of High Treason in years, would be vengeance enough…
...of House Aloro says...
Kneeling amongst the others is a tall 6'2" elf with a thin, wiry but strong frame. Although not a drow, the elf's eyes are gray and his perfect skin is so pale that it seems to match. The long, black hair draped over the elf's shoulders is the most color to be found here, especially when he is adorned in such drab prisoner's garb. The elf just gives Blackerly a cold stare with what is one of the more smug looks about him that most others would have ever seen. His arrogance radiates from him so much so that some have sworn the air is colder in his presence. He does not look at the other prisoners or anyone but Blackerly.
After Blackerly reads his name and ads a few comments, the elf replies "I wonder which of your guards will be wise enough to seize this opportunity and free the true son of Aloro." "Surely the reward would not be something to deny one's family." He looks around the room for a brief moment before adding "We will wait and see who has the courage, I suppose." At that an ever so thin grin forms on the elf's otherwise stony visage as he stairs down Blackerly.
The Huntress says...
Jesla tries to move her head but the collar restrains her attempts. She is impressive physically in spite of the current circumstances. The Ghost Wolf stands 5'10" and weighs a wiry 155 pounds. Her corded muscles flex as she tests the restraints. Long raven colored hair drops down to her lower back. It hangs loose but is normally braided. Several scars are visible where tanned skin is visible on her arms. Her feminine curves have not suffered due to her great strength.
A scar running along her jawline mars her appearance slightly. She is pretty but would not be considered beautiful. Glittering green eyes take in the situation at a glance. They almost have a predatory look to them. She dismisses the other prisoners as most likely not much help.
Jesla stares at the Sergeant who spoke to them. She then speaks calmly but with a hint of rage lurking just below the surface." Weak scum. I notice that you are brave with a small army at your back. What kind of God has such cowardly followers as this? Release me and let me face some of your best. Girl children of my people are more men than any of you are. Release me unless you know I'm right. Weak servants of a weak God." She studies the faces of the guards." Gorum will see me free. He is no soft god of civilized lands. May I bathe in all of your blood and offer it to the true God, Gorum! "She spits towards the sergeant." Cowards.... "
the Unobtrusive says...
Respar continues to look around, hopeful that maybe the men are focused elsewhere, giving him a chance to either pick his manacles or at least slip from them. But then something occurs to him, and he can't help but once again draw attention to himself, despite his normal tendency to avoid it.
"Excuse me, Sergeant, but I have a simple question. Most of us are slated to be executed, the last you say sent to some mines. So why transport us all the way out here? It would have been just as easy to execute where we were convicted. Most countries do that to show their citizens that the law is enforced properly." He pauses, then adds, "Is there something else we should know?"
Blackerly simply ignores Eva. Upon hearing Kiven's jibes, Blackerly backhands the young man, hard, sending him sprawling to the floor. "You're the son of nothing now brat, and the only reward you have to offer is a place in chains beside you." Jesla's challenge provokes a different response. He puts on a stern expression, trying to look bored, but it isn't hard to see that she has rattled him. His next expression is that of relief as Respar speaks up again, though his words certainly fail to convey gratitude, "Shut up! You don't get to ask questions here!"
The priest beside the sergeant has a disgusted look on his face as he watches the senior guard's antics. He says to Respar, "In spite of the sergeant's… enthusiasm, your final sentence has yet to be assigned. That judgement falls to the high magistrate, Lord Solomon Tyrath. He should be arriving tomorrow. It is not unknown for him to grant mercy to those who show contrition for their crimes, granting a lesser sentence. I would urge you to repent in the light of Mitra." Blackerly growls, "Mercy? For this lot? It'l never happen." A new voice calls out, "That is not for you to decide."
The guards look quite surprised to see a young elf in regal robes and a haughty manner enter the chamber. He ignores everyone else in the room as he walks up to Kiven Aloro, "I had thought better of you Kiven, father did as well. How could you throw it all away?"
Kiven rolls his eyes as his brother enters the chamber and does not move from where he is seated. He does respond, however, without bothering to look at his brother just yet. "You thought of one other than yourself? Surely you jest. Have you come to tell jokes? I never did find you to be as funny as the giggles of those dim admirers of yours would suggest."
"Of course I think of you, and whatever problem you have with me, surely it was not worth… this." Looking at Eya, the newcomer continues, "This must be the hellspawn that talked you into this sin. Did she offer you her body?" His lips curl with disgust, "I could have introduced you to someone if you were that desperate."
A sinister smile just grows on Kiven's face and the distain for his brother is palpable. "Would she have had a single thought in her pretty little head? I know the type you like, Ty. I'd think it hard to find followers even more dim witted than yourself, but, impressively I'll admit, you do seem to find them in droves, don't you? I wouldn't have thought it possible. Anyhow, you simply wouldn't understand, dear brother. You lack the drive and discipline to expand upon your powers and take our family towards it's rightful place in the realm. But what am I saying, you, the great Tyris Aloro, are the swineherd of THIS fine place. BRA-VO. A life well spent indeed."
The concerned look disappears, anger creeping onto Tyris' face, "You know as well as I the significance of this posting. As to taking the family anywhere, you've brought shame on us all. It will take years for father to recover from this disgrace, if he ever does."
"Yes, yes, VERY impressive, and I love what you've done with the place. A mountain of filth with a bit of the stench of death on top? I have always liked your style, Ty. Perhaps over the next few centuries you could become lord of a second prison even, oh or become a slaver, perhaps? DO make us all very proud, would you? What was it you were saying about shame and the family legacy again?" At that he looks around at the interior of the prison with disgust. "Even locked in a cell I'm still our best shot, and somewhere in there the boy who could barely comprehend basic evocation for a good decade there knows it, doesn't he?"
"So it was your pride then." Tyris shakes his head, "Always that damn stubborn Pride. You never did learn that earning a place requires more than just ability. Well it is too late now, father cannot protect you, and neither can I. You will not last long in the salt mines brother, it would be kinder I think to end your life now."
"Yes in fact it requires no ability at all, it would seem. Lucky for you, dear brother. Do not worry, you WILL see me again."
Tyris' face hardens, "No I will not. This is goodbye. My brother will cease to exist in a moment. In the unlikely event that I see a face resembling yours again, it will be born by a wretched forsaken, forever cast out of the light of Mitra. I had hoped that you would see these last moments with your kin as a chance to regret and repent, perhaps earn some mercy in the final judgement. But it seems that I was a fool to hope for anything out of you in the end."
"Yes, weakness and a a lack of conviction would be your first instinct, wouldn't it. How inspiring you are, favored son of Aloro."
Tyris snarls briefly before regaining control, "Enough of this. Blackerly, do the teifling first. And make sure the brand is almost white hot when you do it, her filthy hide will be difficult to burn."
The priest raises his hands and begins to intone, "Great Mitra, these four have betrayed your light, and thus we cast them into shadow. May you show mercy upon their souls in the next life, for we have none left to spare… " The priest drones on and on about Mitra's greatness, his love, strength, and mercy, and all the many ways the prisoners before him have fallen short of the god's ideals.
Even the guards who seemed enthralled at first by the priest's eulogy are a bit glassy eyed towards the end. The priest names the four prisoners Forsaken, and performs a final blessing over the brand in the fire.
The next few minutes are filled with pain. One by one, each prisoner is forced to the table before the brazier, strong arms holding them in place and their arm out to receive their brand. The mark burned into their left forearm is a runic "F", forever identifying them as one of the forsaken. The guards have to work the brand into Eya's arm to leave a proper mark, and it takes eight men to hold Jesla still enough to get her branded properly, but soon enough, the deed is done.
One by one, you are branded. One by one, you are taken through a door in the back of the room and led upstairs to a cell. Jesla is taken last, so that she can be guarded more heavily while on the move
Most of your heavy chains are removed, leaving a pair of wrist manacles chained to the wall. All four of you are chained in the same cell, although the length of the chains is only sufficient to reach each other if both are trying. Eya and Kiven still have their heavy locked gauntlets on, to help prevent spellcasting.
The guards lock the door to the cell and retreat outside. Most of them disappear, presumably to posts elsewhere, or to go off duty. Three remain, they have a seat at a table far down the hall, although they still have line of sight on you should they care to look.
The space you are in is dark and damp, one guttering torch was left to light the space. Near your cell appears to be another, this one more stonework than bars. You don't have a view of what, if anything, is within.
After being shackled up, Eya looks around at the others in the cell with her. She looks to Kiven first and says, "Aloro, your brother seems like a real ass. I wouldn't mind adding him to my rapidly growing list of shitstains to kill. I'll help, but only if I get the ears after."
Eya then inspects her shackles and tests their strength a little. She scoffs, "They expect these to hold her?" She looks to Jesla, "You there, warrior of Gorum, God of Battle and Lord in Iron. Jesla, right? That's what they called you earlier. Listen Jesla, I can tell just by looking at these chains that they are far too weak to hold you. BUT, if you attempt to break free right now, you would alert the guards immediately from the noise." Eya nods in the direction of the guards down the hallway, then continues, "If you're serious about bathing in their blood, which, by the way, is a favorite pastime of mine, then bide your time for now and wait for the right moment. Side note, blood bathing is actually good for the skin. It keeps the aging down. It's a shame we can't flay them alive too though; we don't have the luxury of time." Eya sighs, seemingly disappointed.
"You all might be wondering why they went through the trouble of branding us if they're just planning to execute the majority of us tomorrow. Well, the branding iron the used had magical runes inscribed on it. You saw them too, right Aloro? Anyway, the scar created by that magical branding iron is permanent and no amount of healing can make it go away. Essentially, they didn't just brand our physical bodies, but our souls as well. You could cut off your arm, regrow it with magic, and the brand would be right back there again. Why do they do this you might ask? Perhaps it's to humiliate us, to brand us forever as the Other, the Forsaken. That's their terminology, not mine. But perhaps that's only part of the reason."
"So, why am I telling you all this? Because I think we can all break out of this place if we play our cards right and work together. I'm Eya by the way."
The Huntress says...
Jesla shifts restlessly trying to get more comfortable. Her forearm burns from the branding. Anger boils inside her at the predicament that she is in. She turns her head to look at the tiefling that speaks to her. Her eyes gleam slightly in the darkened cell." Eya is it… I am Jesla. You heard right. They are cowards just as I knew. Damn cowards. Wouldnt even fight me. Men." She almost spits out the word. "They will truly pay for this. In full."
Her chains rattle slightly as she shifts again." I will be patient. We will only have one chance to get out of here. When the time comes we must make the most of it. Let's kill as many as we can on the way out. I do not tolerate being treated like this. She glances at the two men in the cell." Hopefully they are good for something to help us escape. They don't look like much but who knows.... ."
the Unobtrusive says...
Respar tries not to make a sound when the brand burns into his tricep, but grunts and groans escape his lips. Even a curse word or two (If anyone speaks it, he curses in Celestial). But he does not issue threats.
Once the group is alone he turns away from the others and begins to whistle tunelessly for a few minutes. He seems to be ignoring the others in the cell. But he finally turns and looks at the fiery barbarian woman and the tiefling.
"Oh I assure I can be useful. But before I agree to help you with your pointless attempt to smash and kill your way out of here, leaving everyone behind in various states of dismemberment and death, let me offer you an alternative. It may not be as… satisfying to your bloodlust, but I think it might have a slightly better chance of achieving escape, which is my priority."
He lowers his voice and says, "Right now there are few enough guards out there we might be able to overpower them. But if we suddenly start tearing chains from walls and what have you, they'll call for reinforcements. However if we can just get one or two to come in, I can have us ready to totally take them by surprise, and possibly very quietly. You might prefer to put on a loud and violent show, but I prefer to work quietly."
He then raises his hands, freed from the manacles in his lap. "Now, what say you all?"
...of House Aloro says...
Kiven tries to hide it but shows a hint of fear as he is about to be branded. The elf puts his head down and looks away from the others as the brand is pressed to searing flesh but eventually he lets out one short, loud cry, gasping for air. As the task is finished and they release his other arm the proud ex-noble wipes his face clean of any evidence that he did not handle this well. He stands tall and tries not to wince has they drag him from the room.
Once in their cell, Kiven reacts little to Eya's mention of his brother being a real ass, but shoots her a very quick and serious look when she offers to assist in killing Tyris. Within a fraction of a second he is back to his previous demeanor and mutters "I will take care of HIM."
Regarding the brand, Kiven acknowledges Eya's words. "Yes, Forsaken we are. It matters not, and I will relish it. Today I am free of the shackles; the shackles of my family, of expectations, of law, of weakness. There is just one pair yet to shed." At that he looks at his elaborate chains and gauntlets. "I did my part, fiend, and you still owe me what you promised. You can start by contributing to my escape."
To Jesla's doubts that the men here can contribute at all, the self proclaimed Prince only reacts with a small smirk. Respar at least receives a nod to his suggestion of being a bit more tactical and cautious in their escape.
Further conversation is cut off at the sound of boots trotting up the hall. The guard supposedly watching you stir at the approach of several others. "Open the cell and take the hellspawn to the interrogation room, Sergeant's orders."
"Huh? But the Inquisitor..." "Nah, that's not it, she has a visitor believe it or not." "Who would want to see a forsaken, especially that one, and why would that fat bastard allow it?" "Dunno, probably got bribed, this place is already falling apart because of his greed. Anyways, are you going to stand there yapping or open the cell?"
Six guards walk over to the cell, they use several catch poles to pin prisoners to the wall by their necks before they even start opening the door. Eya is removed from the wall, fortunately none of them spare a glance for the Rogue who had hastily set his wrists back into the chains. One of them gives the tiefling's rear a generous fondle while he has the chance, and then they are marching her out.
Elsewhere, Eya is forced down into a blood-stained chair and locked within. Waiting in the room is Sergeant Blackerly and a starkly beautiful woman she does not recognize. The stranger is all dressed in all black mourning clothes, and wears a white veil over her face.
Blackerly chases the rest of the guards out, then looks at the woman with a slightly dopey expression. The Tell-Tale signs of Enchantment can be read upon his face. A melodic voice says, "Thank you my dear. Now please wait outside and make sure none listen to us." Reluctantly, the sergeant does as he is bid.
The woman turns back and removes her veil. Her voice seems to change from one moment to the next, into something quite familiar. "This certainly is a disgraceful mess you have found yourself in child. I thought you had been taught to cover your tracks better."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
As soon as the guards are gone, Respar once more removes his hands from his manacles, then steps towards the redhead warrior woman. He points at her manacles and gestures for her to hold them up to him. When she does, he rubs his fingers together, and suddenly a thin piece of blackness arises from the shadows. Respar begins trying to unlock her manacles.17
Eya snaps at the guard who touches her and gives him a death stare that would probably strike fear in anyone sane. Overall, she goes willingly with the guards.
As soon as the woman reveals herself, Eya looks at her quizzically for a brief moment. Then, Eya rolls her eyes, "Seriously? What are you doing here and what do you want?" At this point Eya takes more of a defensive posture and is clearly uncomfortable. She crosses her arms and looks annoyed, then continues, "And,for the record, I covered my tracks just fine. I just made the mistake of trusting an incompetent narcissistic fool. He had potential and decent family connections at the time, okay? Plus, I have this situation completely under control. So again, what's going on?"
Respar handily succeeds in undoing Jesla's restraints.
The woman before Eya snorts in amusement, "Just an opportunity impudent brat. Even if you get out of here, you'll be hunted down, sooner or later. The Mitrans are very good at that, and you've lost the anonymity that protected you before. Fortunately for you, someone I know is interested in acquiring people with certain skills. You and the other three newly minted forsaken here just might meet his needs. He is willing to offer aid and shelter now in exchange for service, you will also get the chance to earn both power and revenge."
"I think you will like his offer. All you have to do to hear it, is find a way out of here to join us."
Eya glares at the woman, clearly furious, but bites her tongue. There's an awkward pause as Eya processes all of her various options and thinks through hundreds of potential scenarios of what could possibly happen after she escapes and what she could possibly do to survive...but they all point to the same bad ending. She knows logically that the woman before her is right, but hates so much to admit it. With great effort, Eya eventually calmly replies, "Whatever, I'll talk to him. Where?"
"Across the moors to the southwest is an old manor, we'll be leaving a bright light in a northern window to mark it. It is perhaps half a day's walk, even accounting for the rough terrain. If you can make it there, you will be safe from the Mitrans, it is well warded."
She holds up two fingers. "You have two days. The High Magistrate's party has been unavoidably delayed, so make the best of the time granted, I doubt you could get free after they arrive. That bit of aid is free, as is this." She stuffs the veil she had been wearing down Eya's shirt, carefully ensuring it could not be seen. "Just a few things to give a bit of an edge."
"Everything else though? That is on you. We are not interested in those too weak to break their bonds. Oh, and one more thing, the master would not be adverse to seeing this place and everyone in it made into an example."
The woman calls Sergeant Blackerly back in and gives him a few more instructions. Then she departs. The guards roughly escort the tiefling back towards her cell. Once again, the prisoners are pinned in place before the cell door is opened. Eya is soon chained back up to the wall, and the hall goes quiet once again as the extra guards finally leave the area.
Jesla looks at Respar with widened eyes. " It seems that you are useful after all. What manner of devilry is this?" She holds her hands up and stretches her arms. " That is better. Now it is time to escape and get some revenge as we go. " She looks to the pompous elf. " Can you free him as well? We need all of us to be sure of escape. " She studies the cell for a moment. " They will bring Eya back shortly. That is when we can make our move. Unless you can unlock the cell door first. " She grins at the thought of revenge upon these guards.
Kiven just raises an eyebrow as Respar and then Jeslia are freed from their bonds, not wanting to say too much until he is free. As Jesla is freed he tries to watch and listen for the guards and then does the same before Respar potentially moves on to the 'elf prince' himself. If the guards are on their way back with Eya he will signal for Respar and Jesla to hold off, but otherwise will keep that eyebrow raised at Respar and hold his shackles out for the talented rogue to do his work.
Eya is wearing a bored expression as the guards escort her back to the cell. She rolls her eyes as they take their sweet time locking her back into the manacles.
Once the guards are gone, Eya turns to the others and says in a calm voice, "Listen, it appears that someone is on our side and has delayed the High Magistrate and his band of ******** from arriving here for a couple of days. We need to get out of here before then or die. Pretty simple really. But that's just the easy part. After we get out, we will be hunted down relentlessly and these brands make it impossible to hide for any length of time. We need to head southwest across the moors, roughly half a days journey to get to relative safety. Before you ask, no you don't have a choice and no I don't trust this mysterious patron fully. But given our current situation, our lack of good options, and how much this person has done for us already, I figure we should all work together to meet this person. Or you can sit in here and die. What do you say? And Jesla, we WILL have our vengeance on the way out."
Finally, she turns to Respar and says, "Oh and I come bearing a gift for you, courtesy of the mysterious patron. Just unshackle me first please. But, before you do that, we should discuss our strategy to take those guys down the hallway out."
Respar's eyebrows rise when Eya claims to have a gift for him, but any remark that comes to mind is left unsaid. As to tactics, he whispers, "This cell is so open, I'm not sure we can do anything elaborate to lure them in. I'd say our best bet is if I am not spotted whilst unlocking your manacles, is to make it look as if one of is in distress. But since three of us are sentenced to death, they might not care. But since Kiven is slated for the mines, they might come to his aid. Either he is choking and dying, or maybe it would be believable that Jesla had freed one hand and is choking him out. The others can still appear bound so they are likely to come in rather than summon help. After that, maybe we can see about donning their uniforms to at least get closer to the gates or walls. If we get cornered, I'd also recommend we go over the wall into the water and swim for it. Anyone else have thoughts?"
Eya nods, "I like the idea, though I'm curious to see whether Jesla actually chokes the young Master out." Eya turns to Aloro and grins wickedly. "Once they are in here, I can provide some amount of help, but I don't have full access to spell casting until I get my material components and spellbook."
Daishain, can Respar take off the gloves binding mine and Aloro's hands or are they too tough to even attempt? Also do we have any idea what they did with our things or no (e.g. spellbooks and gear)?
OOC: Thought of a small change in plans while showering before work. And since I doubt I will have access once I go, I am trying something now. First I wil need a stealth roll...
IC: Respar suddenly widens his eyes. "I just had a better idea, but Eya, it will require me to pretend I am assaulting you. Exactly how I do will depend on if they spot me while I am trying to get there and unlock your manacles. Kiven, Jesla, pretend to watch with interest. Even be willing to wager on the outcome." With that, Respar tries to pad softly across the cell to Eya, with his umbral pick ready. 9
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
To his ears, Respar feels as if the guards must notice, but they seem focused on their card game. He proceeds to begin working the locks on Eya's bonds. 26
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
After several tries, Respar finally realizes the special gauntlet manacles have a different locking system, and susses it out. Once Eya's hands are free he says, "Now, struggle, but don't reveal yourself until they come in. I even have a better chance of them coming in without calling for help." He turns Eya to face the wall and pins her wrists to the wall above her head with one hand. "Now, star struggling and cursing me out!" He also starts shouting out, "Damn it! Hold still, she-devil! Before I die I intend to get a little taste of a demon-blooded piece of..." He then sees the guards coming to the cell and grins evilly.
"Come on, lads, let me have a last request! Just a bit of fun with this one. Hey, I saw you with her...you know you'd like to take the same walk on the wild side."
OOC: Diplomacy oi get them to join in the 'fun.' 18
Tallingarde the beautiful, a shining beacon of hope, or at least that is what some would call it.
Oh, the place is pleasant enough for most, the cities clean, the people happy and healthy. Crime is almost nonexistent, and the island nation thrives.
But for anyone who does not fit the Mitran's ideals, well, things are not quite so pleasant. Few can argue that the courts are not fair, they deal with crimes by the high and the low with equal fervor. But the punishments are almost always harsh, and running afoul of the law is rather easy to do.
If you were not already aware, you have just learned just how harsh the blade of justice can be in this land. Judged guilty of a serious crime, you have been stripped of everything, and are being sent to Branderskar prison to await your final fate, death by execution, or a life of hard labor in the salt mines.
From multiple parts of the land you have come, but your destination is the same. Castle Branding was once an important coastal fortress, but its military importance came to an end when House Darius won the war of succession eighty years ago. It has since been repurposed into a prison for Tallingarde's worst criminals. Renamed Branderskar, the care of this place has passed through many hands. The title of Warden here is one of distinction and honor, many who held it have gone on to become lords and knights of the realm.
You are transported in a small caravan, Two iron bound wagons surrounded by a score of armed men. Two witch hunters are with them, ready to shut down any magical mischief.
You travel in heavy chains, wrist and ankle manacles attached to a chain binding all four together. The known spellcasters in the group bear an additional impediment, heavy metal gauntlets locked onto the hands. Within them, the wearer's fingers are prevented from moving to form somatic components.
You get a glimpse of Branderscar prison from a distance, but the guards place hoods over your head as the group makes its final approach. You can hear dogs barking as the wagons roll and bump their way across the long bridge, and the rattle of chains as a series of portculli are opened before you.
Eventually, one by one, you are taken from the wagons and led on foot. Forcing you to your knees, the guards finally remove the hoods. You find yourself in a large room of some sort. It might have been an audience chamber once. In addition to the guards you had on the road, another dozen men stand at attention. The new additions wear tabards with Branderscar's sigil on it, a stylized representation of the prison over Mitra's eight pointed sunburst. For each of you, a guard stands on the chain between your legs, with a knee pressed into your back, effectively pinning your lower legs to the ground. After her wild efforts to free herself on the road, the guards took an additional precaution with the incredibly strong barbarian known as Jesla, a collar with two stiff poles attached circles her neck, and two strong men stand braced, forcing her head into a safe position, in addition to the third standing behind her.
Directly before you is a small table, a well lit brazier with some manner of brand shoved into the coals, and two more men. The first is a thin and elderly man in robes denoting him as a priest of Mitra. The other is a greasy looking thug in heavy scale mail. The latter speaks up. "I am Seargent Blackerly, welcome to the last day of your pathetic lives."
One of the guards hands Blackerly a list, and he goes down the line with it. "Respar, High Treason, looks like we've got a fun one coming up. Jesla, piracy, I can certainly believe it, this one doesn't look fit for decent society. But she's a beauty compared to, lets see… Eya. Yet another High treason! Our lucky day, and Witchcraft as well. I suppose we'll just have to burn the body parts after we tear you apart. Finally we have Kiven Aloro, Aloro? So the rumors were true then, this ought to be good. And you're here for High Theft. It'l be the mines for you then, those soft hands will be covered in blisters in no time."
This game has been ported over from another forum that caused problems shortly after this began, posts copied from there, hence some odd formatting to begin with.
The Disaster Tiefling says...
Eya stands lined up with the others. She’s a tiefling, roughly five foot, seven inches tall with a small frame. Her skin is ashen colored and she has two small horns protruding from her head, growing slightly backwards at a low angle. Each horn branches a little and a smaller one protrudes, almost like branches. Her ears are pointy and protrude towards the back of her head. She has multiple piercings along her ears and on the left side of her nose. Her hair is cut relatively short and is a violet color. Her eyes are a dark yellow-orange with thin black slits down the center of them serving as her pupils. Her lips are black and she has a medium length, devilish tail that ends in a triangular tip. Halfway down the tail her skin appears different, hardened, scaly, and almost black in color. The same is true from halfway down her calves down to her feet. Her nails are sharp and black like obsidian.
Eya keeps a calm expression as she studies the room, burning the images of the guard’s faces into memory. Her eyes eventually make their way to the fiery brazier and the branding rod inside it. It doesn’t take her long to study the magic symbols along it. She grits her teeth and her eyes flare up with rage, but only for a moment. As Sergeant Blackerly passes in front of her and finishes his rude comments, she simply snarls, “You’re a dead man,” she pauses for a moment and scans the other guards in the room, “... Along with every other shitstain guard in this room. You better hope and pray your fire is hot enough.”.
the Unobtrusive says...
When the Sergeant introduces himself and offers a 'welcome,' Respar grins and says, "Yeah, this will be the final day of this 'pathetic' part of my life. I fully expect things to take a turn for the better… "But the greasy man ignores his remark.
Once the man begins reading their crimes and sentences, Respar is silent. He is counting the number of people in the room, evaluating their skills, which hand they use to wield weapons, what might stay sheathed if a fight breaks out, etc. He does he turn and survey his fellow prisoners as well. Anyone watching him would see he was doing his best to appraise them as well, both professionally, and when it came to the tiefling and the burly barbarian woman, with a more… personal eye. Looking at each he briefly smiles to himself, his thoughts remaining unspoken.
When the tiefling makes her threats, he shakes his head slightly. He's not going to waste his energy on anything like that, nor draw unnecessary attention to himself. To be honest, these folks are doing their job. They might be totally deserving of killing, but for him, escape is his priority. He won't shed a tear if he has to kill any of their guards, but he won't celebrate either. In fact, leaving them alive to answer for losing one of the few prisoners convicted of High Treason in years, would be vengeance enough…
...of House Aloro says...
Kneeling amongst the others is a tall 6'2" elf with a thin, wiry but strong frame. Although not a drow, the elf's eyes are gray and his perfect skin is so pale that it seems to match. The long, black hair draped over the elf's shoulders is the most color to be found here, especially when he is adorned in such drab prisoner's garb. The elf just gives Blackerly a cold stare with what is one of the more smug looks about him that most others would have ever seen. His arrogance radiates from him so much so that some have sworn the air is colder in his presence. He does not look at the other prisoners or anyone but Blackerly.
After Blackerly reads his name and ads a few comments, the elf replies "I wonder which of your guards will be wise enough to seize this opportunity and free the true son of Aloro." "Surely the reward would not be something to deny one's family." He looks around the room for a brief moment before adding "We will wait and see who has the courage, I suppose." At that an ever so thin grin forms on the elf's otherwise stony visage as he stairs down Blackerly.
The Huntress says...
Jesla tries to move her head but the collar restrains her attempts. She is impressive physically in spite of the current circumstances. The Ghost Wolf stands 5'10" and weighs a wiry 155 pounds. Her corded muscles flex as she tests the restraints. Long raven colored hair drops down to her lower back. It hangs loose but is normally braided. Several scars are visible where tanned skin is visible on her arms. Her feminine curves have not suffered due to her great strength.
A scar running along her jawline mars her appearance slightly. She is pretty but would not be considered beautiful. Glittering green eyes take in the situation at a glance. They almost have a predatory look to them. She dismisses the other prisoners as most likely not much help.
Jesla stares at the Sergeant who spoke to them. She then speaks calmly but with a hint of rage lurking just below the surface." Weak scum. I notice that you are brave with a small army at your back. What kind of God has such cowardly followers as this? Release me and let me face some of your best. Girl children of my people are more men than any of you are. Release me unless you know I'm right. Weak servants of a weak God." She studies the faces of the guards." Gorum will see me free. He is no soft god of civilized lands. May I bathe in all of your blood and offer it to the true God, Gorum! "She spits towards the sergeant." Cowards.... "
the Unobtrusive says...
Respar continues to look around, hopeful that maybe the men are focused elsewhere, giving him a chance to either pick his manacles or at least slip from them. But then something occurs to him, and he can't help but once again draw attention to himself, despite his normal tendency to avoid it.
"Excuse me, Sergeant, but I have a simple question. Most of us are slated to be executed, the last you say sent to some mines. So why transport us all the way out here? It would have been just as easy to execute where we were convicted. Most countries do that to show their citizens that the law is enforced properly." He pauses, then adds, "Is there something else we should know?"
Blackerly simply ignores Eva. Upon hearing Kiven's jibes, Blackerly backhands the young man, hard, sending him sprawling to the floor. "You're the son of nothing now brat, and the only reward you have to offer is a place in chains beside you." Jesla's challenge provokes a different response. He puts on a stern expression, trying to look bored, but it isn't hard to see that she has rattled him. His next expression is that of relief as Respar speaks up again, though his words certainly fail to convey gratitude, "Shut up! You don't get to ask questions here!"
The priest beside the sergeant has a disgusted look on his face as he watches the senior guard's antics. He says to Respar, "In spite of the sergeant's… enthusiasm, your final sentence has yet to be assigned. That judgement falls to the high magistrate, Lord Solomon Tyrath. He should be arriving tomorrow. It is not unknown for him to grant mercy to those who show contrition for their crimes, granting a lesser sentence. I would urge you to repent in the light of Mitra." Blackerly growls, "Mercy? For this lot? It'l never happen." A new voice calls out, "That is not for you to decide."
The guards look quite surprised to see a young elf in regal robes and a haughty manner enter the chamber. He ignores everyone else in the room as he walks up to Kiven Aloro, "I had thought better of you Kiven, father did as well. How could you throw it all away?"
Kiven rolls his eyes as his brother enters the chamber and does not move from where he is seated. He does respond, however, without bothering to look at his brother just yet. "You thought of one other than yourself? Surely you jest. Have you come to tell jokes? I never did find you to be as funny as the giggles of those dim admirers of yours would suggest."
"Of course I think of you, and whatever problem you have with me, surely it was not worth… this." Looking at Eya, the newcomer continues, "This must be the hellspawn that talked you into this sin. Did she offer you her body?" His lips curl with disgust, "I could have introduced you to someone if you were that desperate."
A sinister smile just grows on Kiven's face and the distain for his brother is palpable. "Would she have had a single thought in her pretty little head? I know the type you like, Ty. I'd think it hard to find followers even more dim witted than yourself, but, impressively I'll admit, you do seem to find them in droves, don't you? I wouldn't have thought it possible. Anyhow, you simply wouldn't understand, dear brother. You lack the drive and discipline to expand upon your powers and take our family towards it's rightful place in the realm. But what am I saying, you, the great Tyris Aloro, are the swineherd of THIS fine place. BRA-VO. A life well spent indeed."
The concerned look disappears, anger creeping onto Tyris' face, "You know as well as I the significance of this posting. As to taking the family anywhere, you've brought shame on us all. It will take years for father to recover from this disgrace, if he ever does."
"Yes, yes, VERY impressive, and I love what you've done with the place. A mountain of filth with a bit of the stench of death on top? I have always liked your style, Ty. Perhaps over the next few centuries you could become lord of a second prison even, oh or become a slaver, perhaps? DO make us all very proud, would you? What was it you were saying about shame and the family legacy again?" At that he looks around at the interior of the prison with disgust. "Even locked in a cell I'm still our best shot, and somewhere in there the boy who could barely comprehend basic evocation for a good decade there knows it, doesn't he?"
"So it was your pride then." Tyris shakes his head, "Always that damn stubborn Pride. You never did learn that earning a place requires more than just ability. Well it is too late now, father cannot protect you, and neither can I. You will not last long in the salt mines brother, it would be kinder I think to end your life now."
"Yes in fact it requires no ability at all, it would seem. Lucky for you, dear brother. Do not worry, you WILL see me again."
Tyris' face hardens, "No I will not. This is goodbye. My brother will cease to exist in a moment. In the unlikely event that I see a face resembling yours again, it will be born by a wretched forsaken, forever cast out of the light of Mitra. I had hoped that you would see these last moments with your kin as a chance to regret and repent, perhaps earn some mercy in the final judgement. But it seems that I was a fool to hope for anything out of you in the end."
"Yes, weakness and a a lack of conviction would be your first instinct, wouldn't it. How inspiring you are, favored son of Aloro."
Tyris snarls briefly before regaining control, "Enough of this. Blackerly, do the teifling first. And make sure the brand is almost white hot when you do it, her filthy hide will be difficult to burn."
The priest raises his hands and begins to intone, "Great Mitra, these four have betrayed your light, and thus we cast them into shadow. May you show mercy upon their souls in the next life, for we have none left to spare… " The priest drones on and on about Mitra's greatness, his love, strength, and mercy, and all the many ways the prisoners before him have fallen short of the god's ideals.
Even the guards who seemed enthralled at first by the priest's eulogy are a bit glassy eyed towards the end. The priest names the four prisoners Forsaken, and performs a final blessing over the brand in the fire.
The next few minutes are filled with pain. One by one, each prisoner is forced to the table before the brazier, strong arms holding them in place and their arm out to receive their brand. The mark burned into their left forearm is a runic "F", forever identifying them as one of the forsaken. The guards have to work the brand into Eya's arm to leave a proper mark, and it takes eight men to hold Jesla still enough to get her branded properly, but soon enough, the deed is done.
One by one, you are branded. One by one, you are taken through a door in the back of the room and led upstairs to a cell. Jesla is taken last, so that she can be guarded more heavily while on the move
Most of your heavy chains are removed, leaving a pair of wrist manacles chained to the wall. All four of you are chained in the same cell, although the length of the chains is only sufficient to reach each other if both are trying. Eya and Kiven still have their heavy locked gauntlets on, to help prevent spellcasting.
The guards lock the door to the cell and retreat outside. Most of them disappear, presumably to posts elsewhere, or to go off duty. Three remain, they have a seat at a table far down the hall, although they still have line of sight on you should they care to look.
The space you are in is dark and damp, one guttering torch was left to light the space. Near your cell appears to be another, this one more stonework than bars. You don't have a view of what, if anything, is within.
The Disaster Tiefling says...
After being shackled up, Eya looks around at the others in the cell with her. She looks to Kiven first and says, "Aloro, your brother seems like a real ass. I wouldn't mind adding him to my rapidly growing list of shitstains to kill. I'll help, but only if I get the ears after."
Eya then inspects her shackles and tests their strength a little. She scoffs, "They expect these to hold her?" She looks to Jesla, "You there, warrior of Gorum, God of Battle and Lord in Iron. Jesla, right? That's what they called you earlier. Listen Jesla, I can tell just by looking at these chains that they are far too weak to hold you. BUT, if you attempt to break free right now, you would alert the guards immediately from the noise." Eya nods in the direction of the guards down the hallway, then continues, "If you're serious about bathing in their blood, which, by the way, is a favorite pastime of mine, then bide your time for now and wait for the right moment. Side note, blood bathing is actually good for the skin. It keeps the aging down. It's a shame we can't flay them alive too though; we don't have the luxury of time." Eya sighs, seemingly disappointed.
"You all might be wondering why they went through the trouble of branding us if they're just planning to execute the majority of us tomorrow. Well, the branding iron the used had magical runes inscribed on it. You saw them too, right Aloro? Anyway, the scar created by that magical branding iron is permanent and no amount of healing can make it go away. Essentially, they didn't just brand our physical bodies, but our souls as well. You could cut off your arm, regrow it with magic, and the brand would be right back there again. Why do they do this you might ask? Perhaps it's to humiliate us, to brand us forever as the Other, the Forsaken. That's their terminology, not mine. But perhaps that's only part of the reason."
"So, why am I telling you all this? Because I think we can all break out of this place if we play our cards right and work together. I'm Eya by the way."
The Huntress says...
Jesla shifts restlessly trying to get more comfortable. Her forearm burns from the branding. Anger boils inside her at the predicament that she is in. She turns her head to look at the tiefling that speaks to her. Her eyes gleam slightly in the darkened cell." Eya is it… I am Jesla. You heard right. They are cowards just as I knew. Damn cowards. Wouldnt even fight me. Men." She almost spits out the word. "They will truly pay for this. In full."
Her chains rattle slightly as she shifts again." I will be patient. We will only have one chance to get out of here. When the time comes we must make the most of it. Let's kill as many as we can on the way out. I do not tolerate being treated like this. She glances at the two men in the cell." Hopefully they are good for something to help us escape. They don't look like much but who knows.... ."
the Unobtrusive says...
Respar tries not to make a sound when the brand burns into his tricep, but grunts and groans escape his lips. Even a curse word or two (If anyone speaks it, he curses in Celestial). But he does not issue threats.
Once the group is alone he turns away from the others and begins to whistle tunelessly for a few minutes. He seems to be ignoring the others in the cell. But he finally turns and looks at the fiery barbarian woman and the tiefling.
"Oh I assure I can be useful. But before I agree to help you with your pointless attempt to smash and kill your way out of here, leaving everyone behind in various states of dismemberment and death, let me offer you an alternative. It may not be as… satisfying to your bloodlust, but I think it might have a slightly better chance of achieving escape, which is my priority."
He lowers his voice and says, "Right now there are few enough guards out there we might be able to overpower them. But if we suddenly start tearing chains from walls and what have you, they'll call for reinforcements. However if we can just get one or two to come in, I can have us ready to totally take them by surprise, and possibly very quietly. You might prefer to put on a loud and violent show, but I prefer to work quietly."
He then raises his hands, freed from the manacles in his lap. "Now, what say you all?"
...of House Aloro says...
Kiven tries to hide it but shows a hint of fear as he is about to be branded. The elf puts his head down and looks away from the others as the brand is pressed to searing flesh but eventually he lets out one short, loud cry, gasping for air. As the task is finished and they release his other arm the proud ex-noble wipes his face clean of any evidence that he did not handle this well. He stands tall and tries not to wince has they drag him from the room.
Once in their cell, Kiven reacts little to Eya's mention of his brother being a real ass, but shoots her a very quick and serious look when she offers to assist in killing Tyris. Within a fraction of a second he is back to his previous demeanor and mutters "I will take care of HIM."
Regarding the brand, Kiven acknowledges Eya's words. "Yes, Forsaken we are. It matters not, and I will relish it. Today I am free of the shackles; the shackles of my family, of expectations, of law, of weakness. There is just one pair yet to shed." At that he looks at his elaborate chains and gauntlets. "I did my part, fiend, and you still owe me what you promised. You can start by contributing to my escape."
To Jesla's doubts that the men here can contribute at all, the self proclaimed Prince only reacts with a small smirk. Respar at least receives a nod to his suggestion of being a bit more tactical and cautious in their escape.
Further conversation is cut off at the sound of boots trotting up the hall. The guard supposedly watching you stir at the approach of several others. "Open the cell and take the hellspawn to the interrogation room, Sergeant's orders."
"Huh? But the Inquisitor..." "Nah, that's not it, she has a visitor believe it or not." "Who would want to see a forsaken, especially that one, and why would that fat bastard allow it?" "Dunno, probably got bribed, this place is already falling apart because of his greed. Anyways, are you going to stand there yapping or open the cell?"
Six guards walk over to the cell, they use several catch poles to pin prisoners to the wall by their necks before they even start opening the door. Eya is removed from the wall, fortunately none of them spare a glance for the Rogue who had hastily set his wrists back into the chains. One of them gives the tiefling's rear a generous fondle while he has the chance, and then they are marching her out.
Elsewhere, Eya is forced down into a blood-stained chair and locked within. Waiting in the room is Sergeant Blackerly and a starkly beautiful woman she does not recognize. The stranger is all dressed in all black mourning clothes, and wears a white veil over her face.
Blackerly chases the rest of the guards out, then looks at the woman with a slightly dopey expression. The Tell-Tale signs of Enchantment can be read upon his face. A melodic voice says, "Thank you my dear. Now please wait outside and make sure none listen to us." Reluctantly, the sergeant does as he is bid.
The woman turns back and removes her veil. Her voice seems to change from one moment to the next, into something quite familiar. "This certainly is a disgraceful mess you have found yourself in child. I thought you had been taught to cover your tracks better."
As soon as the guards are gone, Respar once more removes his hands from his manacles, then steps towards the redhead warrior woman. He points at her manacles and gestures for her to hold them up to him. When she does, he rubs his fingers together, and suddenly a thin piece of blackness arises from the shadows. Respar begins trying to unlock her manacles.17
Eya snaps at the guard who touches her and gives him a death stare that would probably strike fear in anyone sane. Overall, she goes willingly with the guards.
As soon as the woman reveals herself, Eya looks at her quizzically for a brief moment. Then, Eya rolls her eyes, "Seriously? What are you doing here and what do you want?" At this point Eya takes more of a defensive posture and is clearly uncomfortable. She crosses her arms and looks annoyed, then continues, "And, for the record, I covered my tracks just fine. I just made the mistake of trusting an incompetent narcissistic fool. He had potential and decent family connections at the time, okay? Plus, I have this situation completely under control. So again, what's going on?"
Respar handily succeeds in undoing Jesla's restraints.
The woman before Eya snorts in amusement, "Just an opportunity impudent brat. Even if you get out of here, you'll be hunted down, sooner or later. The Mitrans are very good at that, and you've lost the anonymity that protected you before. Fortunately for you, someone I know is interested in acquiring people with certain skills. You and the other three newly minted forsaken here just might meet his needs. He is willing to offer aid and shelter now in exchange for service, you will also get the chance to earn both power and revenge."
"I think you will like his offer. All you have to do to hear it, is find a way out of here to join us."
Eya glares at the woman, clearly furious, but bites her tongue. There's an awkward pause as Eya processes all of her various options and thinks through hundreds of potential scenarios of what could possibly happen after she escapes and what she could possibly do to survive...but they all point to the same bad ending. She knows logically that the woman before her is right, but hates so much to admit it. With great effort, Eya eventually calmly replies, "Whatever, I'll talk to him. Where?"
Eya hates this.
"Across the moors to the southwest is an old manor, we'll be leaving a bright light in a northern window to mark it. It is perhaps half a day's walk, even accounting for the rough terrain. If you can make it there, you will be safe from the Mitrans, it is well warded."
She holds up two fingers. "You have two days. The High Magistrate's party has been unavoidably delayed, so make the best of the time granted, I doubt you could get free after they arrive. That bit of aid is free, as is this." She stuffs the veil she had been wearing down Eya's shirt, carefully ensuring it could not be seen. "Just a few things to give a bit of an edge."
"Everything else though? That is on you. We are not interested in those too weak to break their bonds. Oh, and one more thing, the master would not be adverse to seeing this place and everyone in it made into an example."
The woman calls Sergeant Blackerly back in and gives him a few more instructions. Then she departs. The guards roughly escort the tiefling back towards her cell. Once again, the prisoners are pinned in place before the cell door is opened. Eya is soon chained back up to the wall, and the hall goes quiet once again as the extra guards finally leave the area.
Jesla looks at Respar with widened eyes. " It seems that you are useful after all. What manner of devilry is this?" She holds her hands up and stretches her arms. " That is better. Now it is time to escape and get some revenge as we go. " She looks to the pompous elf. " Can you free him as well? We need all of us to be sure of escape. " She studies the cell for a moment. " They will bring Eya back shortly. That is when we can make our move. Unless you can unlock the cell door first. " She grins at the thought of revenge upon these guards.
Kiven just raises an eyebrow as Respar and then Jeslia are freed from their bonds, not wanting to say too much until he is free. As Jesla is freed he tries to watch and listen for the guards and then does the same before Respar potentially moves on to the 'elf prince' himself. If the guards are on their way back with Eya he will signal for Respar and Jesla to hold off, but otherwise will keep that eyebrow raised at Respar and hold his shackles out for the talented rogue to do his work.
When it appears things are quiet once more, Respar quietly moves towards Kiven, and once more tries to unlock manacles...
OOC: Rolling Stealth, then Disable Device, both get +8...1425
Eya is wearing a bored expression as the guards escort her back to the cell. She rolls her eyes as they take their sweet time locking her back into the manacles.
Once the guards are gone, Eya turns to the others and says in a calm voice, "Listen, it appears that someone is on our side and has delayed the High Magistrate and his band of ******** from arriving here for a couple of days. We need to get out of here before then or die. Pretty simple really. But that's just the easy part. After we get out, we will be hunted down relentlessly and these brands make it impossible to hide for any length of time. We need to head southwest across the moors, roughly half a days journey to get to relative safety. Before you ask, no you don't have a choice and no I don't trust this mysterious patron fully. But given our current situation, our lack of good options, and how much this person has done for us already, I figure we should all work together to meet this person. Or you can sit in here and die. What do you say? And Jesla, we WILL have our vengeance on the way out."
Finally, she turns to Respar and says, "Oh and I come bearing a gift for you, courtesy of the mysterious patron. Just unshackle me first please. But, before you do that, we should discuss our strategy to take those guys down the hallway out."
Respar's eyebrows rise when Eya claims to have a gift for him, but any remark that comes to mind is left unsaid. As to tactics, he whispers, "This cell is so open, I'm not sure we can do anything elaborate to lure them in. I'd say our best bet is if I am not spotted whilst unlocking your manacles, is to make it look as if one of is in distress. But since three of us are sentenced to death, they might not care. But since Kiven is slated for the mines, they might come to his aid. Either he is choking and dying, or maybe it would be believable that Jesla had freed one hand and is choking him out. The others can still appear bound so they are likely to come in rather than summon help. After that, maybe we can see about donning their uniforms to at least get closer to the gates or walls. If we get cornered, I'd also recommend we go over the wall into the water and swim for it. Anyone else have thoughts?"
Eya nods, "I like the idea, though I'm curious to see whether Jesla actually chokes the young Master out." Eya turns to Aloro and grins wickedly. "Once they are in here, I can provide some amount of help, but I don't have full access to spell casting until I get my material components and spellbook."
Daishain, can Respar take off the gloves binding mine and Aloro's hands or are they too tough to even attempt? Also do we have any idea what they did with our things or no (e.g. spellbooks and gear)?
OOC: Thought of a small change in plans while showering before work. And since I doubt I will have access once I go, I am trying something now. First I wil need a stealth roll...
IC: Respar suddenly widens his eyes. "I just had a better idea, but Eya, it will require me to pretend I am assaulting you. Exactly how I do will depend on if they spot me while I am trying to get there and unlock your manacles. Kiven, Jesla, pretend to watch with interest. Even be willing to wager on the outcome." With that, Respar tries to pad softly across the cell to Eya, with his umbral pick ready. 9
To his ears, Respar feels as if the guards must notice, but they seem focused on their card game. He proceeds to begin working the locks on Eya's bonds. 26
After several tries, Respar finally realizes the special gauntlet manacles have a different locking system, and susses it out. Once Eya's hands are free he says, "Now, struggle, but don't reveal yourself until they come in. I even have a better chance of them coming in without calling for help." He turns Eya to face the wall and pins her wrists to the wall above her head with one hand. "Now, star struggling and cursing me out!" He also starts shouting out, "Damn it! Hold still, she-devil! Before I die I intend to get a little taste of a demon-blooded piece of..." He then sees the guards coming to the cell and grins evilly.
"Come on, lads, let me have a last request! Just a bit of fun with this one. Hey, I saw you with her...you know you'd like to take the same walk on the wild side."
OOC: Diplomacy oi get them to join in the 'fun.' 18
"GET OFF ME YOU LUNATIC!" Eya yells. "GUAAARDS, DO YOUR ******* JOB AND GET THIS FILTHY PINKSKIN OFF OF ME! WHERE ARE YOU TOUCHING?! NOT THE TAIL!!!"
19 on Bluff in Discord