Bakreag, simply biding his time, sulking next to Lucina, begins to listlessly run his hands over his legs, as a sort of frantic fidget. His palm passes over the familiar shape of the rusted metal pipe he had triumphantly stole as a reminder of his continued resistance, really more of a source of morale than a reliable self - defense weapon. Regardless, it instilled a very faint feeling of safety and resilience within the Mountain Dwarf. Looking up, he could see the increasingly desperate ramblings of a Tiefling who never ceased to examine and pick apart their cell at every minute detail, spewing what to Bakreag seemed like simple nonsense.
"Shut up, will ye'? You want another beating from those forsaken guards?" Bakreag yelled out in Common to Bezel, his hopeless situation allowing a gateway for annoyance and apathy.
Lucina slides her gaze over to Bakreag when he moves over to her, not speaking a word but gives a slight gesture of acknowledgement. Lifting her head up a bit hearing the tiefling once again, she breathes out a small sigh. Speaking for the first time in so many days. "Regardless, we get beat for being alive. We are just prisoners after all. So much as look at them the wrong way or even draw their interest, you become a toy to them."
Bezel ignored the (sorry, I can't see Bakraeg in the campaign, is he a dwarf? Fighter?) gravelly demand levelled his way, after all, what was another insult, or even a beating, in the face of eternal damnation! Hearing the elf-woman, no half-elf he realised, mention toys though, seemed to send the tiefling into a fit of hysterics, laughing so hard that he fell into one of the rough stone walls of the cell. Bits of tiny rubble and stone dust covered his stick-thin form as his wide-eyed, white-eyed stare looks up at the resigned woman to say,'
"Yes, their play things they would make us! But no, we do not need to give in, NO! We can RESIST! Help we will find. Powerful help... friends, YES!"
The tiefling's stick-like fingers scrabble at the stone floor as he sits up to look around at all those gathered here to share in his misery and torment.
[OOC] Bezel tries to stealthily pocket the sharp chunk of stone that he knocked loose from the wall: 13
perception check to study his cell mates, including the man and woman who had just spoke to him: 1
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Bakreag simply watched the Tiefling, resolving to keep quiet for the time being and allow his anger to dissolve. He sat there, his keen Dwarven eyes scanning the horned creature, studying his body language, attempting to see into the true nature of the obsessed ramblings of it.
Vassasunstar - Congrats to our first Nat 1! Investigation - 19 Your investigation reveals nothing of particular note in regards to helping you escape. The best you're able to determine is that from their side of the bars, the drow consider you to be barely worth consideration. The bars and anti-magic field are sturdy enough and there doesn't seem to be any gaps in its reach inside your prison.
Stealth - 13 One of the guards even notices your attempts to hide the piece of rock and scoff derisively. You hear him tell the other guard about it and he chuckles as well. "They're worshipping rocks now? Lowborn scum."
Perception - 1 Your cell mates are all seemingly compliant with their situation. No one else wants to escape as far as you can tell - or at least not actively trying to escape. You might have to put things in motion yourself...
Bakreag and Lucina
The guards had been paying attention to you for a moment after they got their laughs out of watching Bezel make a fool of himself, but quickly lose interest. "Tch, maybe the Orc will beat one of them to death today." You hear one say loud enough for you to hear.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Hearing Bakreag’s remarks, Marty Rockdropper recoils to the back of his cell. Everyday was the same. Marty would wake up and cover his skin in stone to be able to withstand the bearings and the proddings.
3
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Gash- Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
(Starting item: 2)
To a side, Lynistra sits in solemn meditation and observation of the cell. When she was so unceremoniously dumped in with the rest, she was bound with a double set of irons and a thick leather muzzle. On the first day, she pleaded around the room through muffled grunts for someone to remove the mask. Anyone attempting to help was immediately whipped and beaten.
On the second day, the orc came for her. Someone with so many restraints seemed an easy target until she caught a lucky opening and nearly strangled him with a chain. He was a brute, no finesse, no skill. Not that Lynistra was elegant by nature, it just helps when you've got the muscle and brains to move them better.
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
“I will beat you to death.” The kenku chitters from her cell after finishing her prayer, the tone masculine and menacing. “Lowborn scum.” She mocks as she mimicked the guards voice before moving to the door of the cell, poking her beak out (if possible) and staring at the crazed tiefling. Out of them all, she liked him most simply because he gave her plenty of phrases to use. “We can resist! Friends, yeeees?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Aeydof the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
When Eggbert had first encountered his drow captors, he had fought, and he had fought hard. There was no way he was going to let himself be enslaved. Not after this long. And yet, in spite of all his desperation, spite of all his rage, he still got captured. But he had not given up. Not yet. On his first day as a slave, he simply complied with orders. He didn't fight back. He didn't complain. He didn't even whimper as he got beaten within an inch of his life by that blasted orc. Instead, he turned to his people's favored tactic, which had also done him well in his years alone: Draw as little attention to himself as was possible. Give the guards, or his slavers, no reason to pay attention to him. And in the meantime, he bided his time. Watching. Waiting for when the chance to escape finally arose. Because there was no way in the nine hells that he would let himself live out his days as a slave.
In the meantime, he observed his surroundings. He observed his cells, looking for any potential cracks. He observed his jailers, trying to pick up on their habits, their weakness. His fellow slaves, trying to see if they could be of any use to escaping this damnable cage.
Lucina gets to her feet and stretches just the slightest, trying to help with the soreness in her muscles. Tilting her head to the side, she looks straight at the guards once again, unnervingly staring at them with once again an emotionless gaze. Then she turns and walks over to Bezel out of curiosity. Today she finally felt the need to be active in anything other than what she was forced to do. "Why do you keep rambling like that? You're saying quite a few interesting things..." She murmurs, folding her arms across her chest and glancing around at everyone else. Her gaze narrowing when she manages to catch the slightest glint of the orc.
In the meantime, he observed his surroundings. He observed his cells, looking for any potential cracks. He observed his jailers, trying to pick up on their habits, their weakness. His fellow slaves, trying to see if they could be of any use to escaping this damnable cage.
(Perception Check: 17)
(Insight Check, if needed: 17)
Perception can be a finicky thing. But through constant watch of the guards - particularly when they change their shifts - you realize that they trade off keys with each other. The guards near your cell carry no keys but they receive keys when they are replaced.
You also notice that the Orc - Ront - is beginning to get agitated again. He shifts frequently in his seated position, glaring daggers at Lynistra in particular. Though after receiving a thrashing from her he doesn't seem to willing to fight her. But there are plenty of smaller folk that could make for good sport in his eyes...
Having gained such useful information, Eggbert checks to see if the guards are paying attention. (Perception check: 24)
If he thinks that the guards are paying attention, he will transplant himself over to Lynistra and sit beside to discourage Ront from attacking him. From there, he will continue to observe the guards until they seem less attentive. (Perception check if needed: 17)
If they aren't paying attention, he will walk over to where Bakreag is sitting -as he is alone, seemingly capable, and, in spite of his outbursts, able to keep his wits about him- and in a whisper, let him know what he heard:
"Keep quiet, and don't react. I've noticed that the guards swap keys when they change shifts. The guards done with their shift receive the keys as they leave."
(I believe that is how you use a spoiler? When you only want one or a few people to read what you wrote?)
Stealth - 13 One of the guards even notices your attempts to hide the piece of rock and scoff derisively. You hear him tell the other guard about it and he chuckles as well. "They're worshipping rocks now? Lowborn scum."
"Worshipping rocks? No... NEVER! Rocks that burn and fire that smells of scorching stone. Yes, the scorching stone... Low indeed!"
Lucina gets to her feet and stretches just the slightest, trying to help with the soreness in her muscles. Tilting her head to the side, she looks straight at the guards once again, unnervingly staring at them with once again an emotionless gaze. Then she turns and walks over to Bezel out of curiosity. Today she finally felt the need to be active in anything other than what she was forced to do. "Why do you keep rambling like that? You're saying quite a few interesting things..." She murmurs, folding her arms across her chest and glancing around at everyone else. Her gaze narrowing when she manages to catch the slightest glint of the orc.
The somewhat skittish tiefling rambles for another moment,'
"Interesting things? Yes, maybe, no - too dark! Interesting, but too DARK!"
And then, without any real indication why, the nonsensical babble falling from the tiefling's mouth stops all of a sudden. Looking up at the taller, stronger dragonborn woman, Bezel says in a low voice that could best be described as meek to the point of perpetually apologetic,'
"Oh... hello. I'm Bezel. Who... Who are you? And why am I holding this? Here - would you like it?"
Hanging his head somewhat dejectedly, the scrawny tiefling holds out a shard of stone that might passably be used as a dagger.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land DM Beyond the Bitter Shore DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Lynistra levels and narrows her gaze on Bezel, seeming a scowl if not for the muzzle blocking most of her countenance. She simply shakes her head and points a finger toward the orc across the cell.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The firbolg sits on floor, clutching the bars. Cedar feels strange after being away from the surface for so long. He is starting to miss the natural light and fresh air of the above. Even more so as they took his only connection to nature.
Cobalt slides out of the darkness near to Bakreag, Eggbert and Lucina. The middle-aged dwarf is the latest addition to the prisoners here. Shortly after he was thrown into the cell, he went into a brief tirade, berating himself for not noticing the drow ambush, then soon went quiet and disappeared into the gloom of the corner of the cell.
Appearing properly for the first time in hours, he slinks over to the other dwarf, brushing one of his grey-streaked, black braids out of his face.
"Do I hear talk of an escape attempt?" He whispers in his rough, gravelly dwarf accent. "Count me in. Been fightin' these bastards fer years now - never gets borin'." He quickly glances over at the drow prisoner, the corner of his mouth twitching into a scowl before he stops himself. He tries to catch the attention of the dwarven scout too, waving them over as subtly as he can.
Starting Item: 17 (Edit: Looks like quite a few people have already rolled 17, here's another roll just in case you want something new: 11)
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
BAKREAG - THE CELL
(How many guards are outside of the cell? - 3 - Perception)
Bakreag removed his gaze from Bezel, leveling it to the other dwarf. He chuckled. "Fat chance, laddie. There's that anti - magic field right above us, and then we also got these iron bars here. Oh, sure, I'd like to resist as much as the next dwarf, I just don't see a way practically how. All I've got is this rusty pipe, and if I swing it hard enough it could be a club, but... well..." He paused, stroking his rough beard in thought. "I suppose it's worth a try. We'll die down here anyways, might as well resist our captors." Bakreag now firmly grasped the makeshift weapon, considerations of vengeance filling his mind.
"It ain't somethin' we want t'rush into." Cobalt eyes the makeshift club. "Perhaps we should wait 'til we're out doin' chores... See what we can get our hands on?" He looks around the cell and his gaze lands on the strange tiefling. "Did I hear that one say he's escaped from a place like this before?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"The most important step a person can take is always the next one." -Dalinar Kholin; Oathbringer
"Well, the issue there is that we might have t' rush into it. One of us might die before we get th' chance. After all, we won't find anything out there doing chores we already wouldn't have noticed." Bakreag stated gruffly, now just staring directly outside of their cell at the guards.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
CHARACTERS
Bakreag Ingotheart [Lvl. 1] Mountain Dwarf Paladin [Out of The Abyss PbP]
"Bah! Yer outlook's too bleak brother. If we go out there lookin' for stuff, we're more'n likely t'find it!" Again Cobalt fiddles with one of his braids. "Besides, I didn't hide this bloody thing in me hair for miles of walkin' just t'die in a disorganised escape attempt!" He unravels the tip of a braid and slides out a small drow-fashioned crossbow bolt, with the coating of their signature poison still dried onto the tip, ensuring that only those huddled around in their little conversation can see it.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"The most important step a person can take is always the next one." -Dalinar Kholin; Oathbringer
Your captors are less than stellar hosts and as the Kenku approaches the bars of the cell one of them swings their shortsword against the bars to cause a very loud ringing sound. "Back up! Go hug the Orc if you need to be close to something! Maybe even ask that filthy half-elf to protect you." One of the guards specifically points towards Marty with the tip of their blade, drawing a chuckle from the both of them. "The Tiefling worships the rocks, that mongrel half-elf worships the rocks. What insanity it must be on the surface world."
Eggbert
You are possibly the first one to react to the Kenku's accidental distraction. With their attention focused elsewhere, you are easily able to slip away from Ront and over to the dwarves. It is at this point you realize that the Tiefling isn't the only one muttering to himself. The drow in the cells accused of murder is also talking to himself - albeit much more quietly. You notice him scratching his arms fervently - drawing red marks across his pale skin. Whether or not he notices it is a matter for scholars to debate. Luckily for you, Ront doesn't seem to notice your quick movement.
Cobalt and Bakreag
From where you are seated, you have a decent view of the slave pens and its surrounding area. In total you count only the two guards standing in front of your cell. None seem to be watching you otherwise.
[OoC]: JetanWM, would it be possible to refer to character names instead of player names? It might get confusing having to go back to previous pages often to check who's who.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
"The most important step a person can take is always the next one." -Dalinar Kholin; Oathbringer
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Bezel ignored the (sorry, I can't see Bakraeg in the campaign, is he a dwarf? Fighter?) gravelly demand levelled his way, after all, what was another insult, or even a beating, in the face of eternal damnation! Hearing the elf-woman, no half-elf he realised, mention toys though, seemed to send the tiefling into a fit of hysterics, laughing so hard that he fell into one of the rough stone walls of the cell. Bits of tiny rubble and stone dust covered his stick-thin form as his wide-eyed, white-eyed stare looks up at the resigned woman to say,'
"Yes, their play things they would make us! But no, we do not need to give in, NO! We can RESIST! Help we will find. Powerful help... friends, YES!"
The tiefling's stick-like fingers scrabble at the stone floor as he sits up to look around at all those gathered here to share in his misery and torment.
[OOC] Bezel tries to stealthily pocket the sharp chunk of stone that he knocked loose from the wall: 13
perception check to study his cell mates, including the man and woman who had just spoke to him: 1
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
BAKREAG - THE CELL
(Bakreag is in fact a Dwarf Paladin.)
Bakreag simply watched the Tiefling, resolving to keep quiet for the time being and allow his anger to dissolve. He sat there, his keen Dwarven eyes scanning the horned creature, studying his body language, attempting to see into the true nature of the obsessed ramblings of it.
20 - Insight
CHARACTERS
Bakreag Ingotheart [Lvl. 1] Mountain Dwarf Paladin [Out of The Abyss PbP]
Dungeon Master - [Druidic Embers PbP]
EXTATUM ET ORATUM
Hearing Bakreag’s remarks, Marty Rockdropper recoils to the back of his cell. Everyday was the same. Marty would wake up and cover his skin in stone to be able to withstand the bearings and the proddings.
3
Gash - Lvl14 Goblin Wizard - The High Court of the Aasimar Queen
(Starting item: 2)
To a side, Lynistra sits in solemn meditation and observation of the cell. When she was so unceremoniously dumped in with the rest, she was bound with a double set of irons and a thick leather muzzle. On the first day, she pleaded around the room through muffled grunts for someone to remove the mask. Anyone attempting to help was immediately whipped and beaten.
On the second day, the orc came for her. Someone with so many restraints seemed an easy target until she caught a lucky opening and nearly strangled him with a chain. He was a brute, no finesse, no skill. Not that Lynistra was elegant by nature, it just helps when you've got the muscle and brains to move them better.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
“I will beat you to death.” The kenku chitters from her cell after finishing her prayer, the tone masculine and menacing. “Lowborn scum.” She mocks as she mimicked the guards voice before moving to the door of the cell, poking her beak out (if possible) and staring at the crazed tiefling. Out of them all, she liked him most simply because he gave her plenty of phrases to use. “We can resist! Friends, yeeees?”
Aeyd of the Dragons || Wood Elf / Way of the Ascendant Dragon Monk
Demetrios Zalaoras || Protector Aasimar / Paladin of Torm
Hawke || Kalashtar / Circle of the Moon Druid
Morticia || Half-Aasimar Rogue
Yvan || Goliath / Path of the Wild Soul Barbarian | Paladin of Helm
/ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\
When Eggbert had first encountered his drow captors, he had fought, and he had fought hard. There was no way he was going to let himself be enslaved. Not after this long. And yet, in spite of all his desperation, spite of all his rage, he still got captured. But he had not given up. Not yet. On his first day as a slave, he simply complied with orders. He didn't fight back. He didn't complain. He didn't even whimper as he got beaten within an inch of his life by that blasted orc. Instead, he turned to his people's favored tactic, which had also done him well in his years alone: Draw as little attention to himself as was possible. Give the guards, or his slavers, no reason to pay attention to him. And in the meantime, he bided his time. Watching. Waiting for when the chance to escape finally arose. Because there was no way in the nine hells that he would let himself live out his days as a slave.
In the meantime, he observed his surroundings. He observed his cells, looking for any potential cracks. He observed his jailers, trying to pick up on their habits, their weakness. His fellow slaves, trying to see if they could be of any use to escaping this damnable cage.
(Perception Check: 17)
(Insight Check, if needed: 17)
(Starting item: 11)
Lucina gets to her feet and stretches just the slightest, trying to help with the soreness in her muscles. Tilting her head to the side, she looks straight at the guards once again, unnervingly staring at them with once again an emotionless gaze. Then she turns and walks over to Bezel out of curiosity. Today she finally felt the need to be active in anything other than what she was forced to do. "Why do you keep rambling like that? You're saying quite a few interesting things..." She murmurs, folding her arms across her chest and glancing around at everyone else. Her gaze narrowing when she manages to catch the slightest glint of the orc.
Cornpuffbuddha's Insight roll needs to be a roll made against Vassasunstar's Deception roll - if he so chooses to do so.
Perception can be a finicky thing. But through constant watch of the guards - particularly when they change their shifts - you realize that they trade off keys with each other. The guards near your cell carry no keys but they receive keys when they are replaced.
You also notice that the Orc - Ront - is beginning to get agitated again. He shifts frequently in his seated position, glaring daggers at Lynistra in particular. Though after receiving a thrashing from her he doesn't seem to willing to fight her. But there are plenty of smaller folk that could make for good sport in his eyes...
EXTATUM ET ORATUM
Having gained such useful information, Eggbert checks to see if the guards are paying attention. (Perception check: 24)
If he thinks that the guards are paying attention, he will transplant himself over to Lynistra and sit beside to discourage Ront from attacking him. From there, he will continue to observe the guards until they seem less attentive. (Perception check if needed: 17)
If they aren't paying attention, he will walk over to where Bakreag is sitting -as he is alone, seemingly capable, and, in spite of his outbursts, able to keep his wits about him- and in a whisper, let him know what he heard:
"Keep quiet, and don't react. I've noticed that the guards swap keys when they change shifts. The guards done with their shift receive the keys as they leave."
(I believe that is how you use a spoiler? When you only want one or a few people to read what you wrote?)
-
"Worshipping rocks? No... NEVER! Rocks that burn and fire that smells of scorching stone. Yes, the scorching stone... Low indeed!"
The somewhat skittish tiefling rambles for another moment,'
"Interesting things? Yes, maybe, no - too dark! Interesting, but too DARK!"
And then, without any real indication why, the nonsensical babble falling from the tiefling's mouth stops all of a sudden. Looking up at the taller, stronger dragonborn woman, Bezel says in a low voice that could best be described as meek to the point of perpetually apologetic,'
"Oh... hello. I'm Bezel. Who... Who are you? And why am I holding this? Here - would you like it?"
Hanging his head somewhat dejectedly, the scrawny tiefling holds out a shard of stone that might passably be used as a dagger.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vassa Sunstar (half-drow bard) - Waterdeep Dragonheist
DM Ghosts of a Forgotten Land
DM Beyond the Bitter Shore
DM Echos of a Burning Crown
Lynistra levels and narrows her gaze on Bezel, seeming a scowl if not for the muzzle blocking most of her countenance. She simply shakes her head and points a finger toward the orc across the cell.
Characters:
Grishkar Darkmoor, Necromancer of Nerull the Despiser
Kelvin Rabbitfoot, Diviner, con artist, always hunting for a good sale
Bründir Halfshield, Valor Bard, three-time Sheercleft Drinking Competition Champion, Hometown hero
The firbolg sits on floor, clutching the bars. Cedar feels strange after being away from the surface for so long. He is starting to miss the natural light and fresh air of the above. Even more so as they took his only connection to nature.
Item - 19
Cobalt slides out of the darkness near to Bakreag, Eggbert and Lucina. The middle-aged dwarf is the latest addition to the prisoners here. Shortly after he was thrown into the cell, he went into a brief tirade, berating himself for not noticing the drow ambush, then soon went quiet and disappeared into the gloom of the corner of the cell.
Appearing properly for the first time in hours, he slinks over to the other dwarf, brushing one of his grey-streaked, black braids out of his face.
"Do I hear talk of an escape attempt?" He whispers in his rough, gravelly dwarf accent. "Count me in. Been fightin' these bastards fer years now - never gets borin'." He quickly glances over at the drow prisoner, the corner of his mouth twitching into a scowl before he stops himself. He tries to catch the attention of the dwarven scout too, waving them over as subtly as he can.
Starting Item: 17 (Edit: Looks like quite a few people have already rolled 17, here's another roll just in case you want something new: 11)
"The most important step a person can take is always the next one." - Dalinar Kholin; Oathbringer
BAKREAG - THE CELL
(How many guards are outside of the cell? - 3 - Perception)
Bakreag removed his gaze from Bezel, leveling it to the other dwarf. He chuckled. "Fat chance, laddie. There's that anti - magic field right above us, and then we also got these iron bars here. Oh, sure, I'd like to resist as much as the next dwarf, I just don't see a way practically how. All I've got is this rusty pipe, and if I swing it hard enough it could be a club, but... well..." He paused, stroking his rough beard in thought. "I suppose it's worth a try. We'll die down here anyways, might as well resist our captors." Bakreag now firmly grasped the makeshift weapon, considerations of vengeance filling his mind.
CHARACTERS
Bakreag Ingotheart [Lvl. 1] Mountain Dwarf Paladin [Out of The Abyss PbP]
Dungeon Master - [Druidic Embers PbP]
"It ain't somethin' we want t'rush into." Cobalt eyes the makeshift club. "Perhaps we should wait 'til we're out doin' chores... See what we can get our hands on?" He looks around the cell and his gaze lands on the strange tiefling. "Did I hear that one say he's escaped from a place like this before?"
"The most important step a person can take is always the next one." - Dalinar Kholin; Oathbringer
BAKREAG - THE CELL
"Well, the issue there is that we might have t' rush into it. One of us might die before we get th' chance. After all, we won't find anything out there doing chores we already wouldn't have noticed." Bakreag stated gruffly, now just staring directly outside of their cell at the guards.
CHARACTERS
Bakreag Ingotheart [Lvl. 1] Mountain Dwarf Paladin [Out of The Abyss PbP]
Dungeon Master - [Druidic Embers PbP]
"Bah! Yer outlook's too bleak brother. If we go out there lookin' for stuff, we're more'n likely t'find it!" Again Cobalt fiddles with one of his braids. "Besides, I didn't hide this bloody thing in me hair for miles of walkin' just t'die in a disorganised escape attempt!" He unravels the tip of a braid and slides out a small drow-fashioned crossbow bolt, with the coating of their signature poison still dried onto the tip, ensuring that only those huddled around in their little conversation can see it.
"The most important step a person can take is always the next one." - Dalinar Kholin; Oathbringer
Marty and Bell
Your captors are less than stellar hosts and as the Kenku approaches the bars of the cell one of them swings their shortsword against the bars to cause a very loud ringing sound. "Back up! Go hug the Orc if you need to be close to something! Maybe even ask that filthy half-elf to protect you." One of the guards specifically points towards Marty with the tip of their blade, drawing a chuckle from the both of them. "The Tiefling worships the rocks, that mongrel half-elf worships the rocks. What insanity it must be on the surface world."
Eggbert
You are possibly the first one to react to the Kenku's accidental distraction. With their attention focused elsewhere, you are easily able to slip away from Ront and over to the dwarves. It is at this point you realize that the Tiefling isn't the only one muttering to himself. The drow in the cells accused of murder is also talking to himself - albeit much more quietly. You notice him scratching his arms fervently - drawing red marks across his pale skin. Whether or not he notices it is a matter for scholars to debate.
Luckily for you, Ront doesn't seem to notice your quick movement.
Cobalt and Bakreag
From where you are seated, you have a decent view of the slave pens and its surrounding area. In total you count only the two guards standing in front of your cell. None seem to be watching you otherwise.
EXTATUM ET ORATUM
[OoC]: JetanWM, would it be possible to refer to character names instead of player names? It might get confusing having to go back to previous pages often to check who's who.
"The most important step a person can take is always the next one." - Dalinar Kholin; Oathbringer