Armed and ready, you slip one by one out of the armoury tent. Nearby, a group of around twenty kobolds are screeching and brawling with a handful of goblins. In the middle of it all, the raider you saw earlier - the one with the red armband who tried to assign you chores - is waving his arms in a desperate, failing attempt to restore order.

"There are no prizes promised by Lady Rezmir! This is nonsense!" he screams, his neck turning a matching shade of red. "THERE ARE NO PRIZES! Cut this crap!" But his voice is drowned out by the yapping of kobolds and the ring of steel on steel.

Thistlewick sees his opening. Tucked against the side of a large kobold tent is a stack of torches, their heads resting dangerously close to the dry leather flaps. With a quiet word of Druidcraft, a spark leaps from his fingers. One torch roars to life, then another, and within heartbeats, the tent is a towering pillar of orange flame and thick black smoke.

The screaming intensifies as panic is added to the riot.

"Another fire! Hells take these stupid creatures!" one raider yells as she runs to fetch water. More kobolds' screaming follows.

Through the chaos and the rushing bodies, Draylin spots a figure nearby. To anyone else, the man looks like just another raider waiting for the signal to march, his face hidden by a bandana and a dark cloak, a dagger tucked into his belt. It takes Draylin a moment to recognise the stance and the movements as the brotherhood's. Leosin has found his disguise, and he is already moving.

This part of the camp is now a madhouse of fire and infighting. Montar doesn't spot any other prisoners here.

The only clear path out of the heat and the noise leads North.

Draylin 

With a nod of appreciation to the clever druid, Dryalin knew they had the distraction they needed.  He was in motion immediately, drifting like a wraith along the edges of the obscuring smoke.  He moved with practiced ease, neither sneaking nor walking down Main St.  He needent act as if he belongs, he grew up in the gutters with "people" such as these.  In his mind the raiders were no better than the monster fodder they used as flesh shields, in fact they were worse.  

The young monk quickly pulled his focus back to the present moment.  He made his way around the tent-torch, always seeking the path of least resistance to the enterance, a reunion with Leosin, and freedom from this wretched nest of vipers.

Amadeus raises an eyebrow and gives a subtle nod of approval. Very nice. Perhaps the flames will scare off a few. His mind lingers momentarily on the frantic madness before him when the sharp cries of panicked men snaps him back.

He need not tarry. Too much time is wasted already. He begins scurrying between rushing forms, any immediate disguise beyond his clothing forgotten as he follows the others towards the exit, and to freedom. 

This is decidedly not Montar's element, but he shoulders his maul and walks determinedly to the North. Let someone stand in his way.

Tam nervously follows the only path left to take, hoping their distractions will let them get out of the camp.

In the chaos at the camp entrance, the group heads out and is soon joined by a limping, disguised Leosin. There is only the watchtower left between the camp and freedom and as it turns out, this watchtower is manned only by kobolds, who don't even look at the party. And why would they? To them, you look like just another group of raiders heading out to do the Cult's business.

Once the camp is well behind you, Leosin finally pulls down his bandana to breathe.

"It's about fifteen miles to Greenest from here," he says, adjusting his cloak. "At this pace, we should make it by the afternoon. Tell me, how did you end up in this mess?"

Draylin 

"Whispers of trouble on the road brought me, brother."  Offering up a half-hearted smile, he adds, "I should like to report the rumors are true."  Despite the dire circumstances,  Draylin was overjoyed to know that his mentor and friend was alive.  Mustering up a bit more confidence or comedy, he says, "Technically I was successful.  I learned the source of the alleged trouble.  It's bad.  Real bad.  You lost our wager.  I should like to learn to harness the power of ki."  As an afterthought he added, "Not right now, brother.  Should we survive the road to Greenest I will come to collect."  

Draylin pats Leosin's shoulder, a smile of sincere relief on his face.  Turning to the other united prisoners (recently self-liberated), he says, "Nice work, all.  We have proven a resourceful and formidable team.  We must make haste, every moment of advanced warning could save lives in Greenest,"  With that, he looked to Leosin for a bearing, and then moved as quickly as he could without letting Leosin fall behind.

With the sun casting a warm glow across the cool morning air, and the disheveled clutter of the camp now behind them, the young Lord can at least calm himself a bit. Traveling would not be significant of a burden for him. He's traveled fairly light so far. Truly the largest burden he's borne insofar has been his walking stick, which currently sits comfortably across his back, and his new crossbow which he loads as he walks. He attempts to keep pace lagging slightly only for how much shorter his gait is to those a size higher than he. 

Though curious, Amadeus tries his best not to listen in. Tis not his business how these two might've been acquainted previously, only that they appear capable in their own. Though, he supposes, would I even be able to tell true capability apart from sheer luck? He ponders this, only to eventually give his own query a resigned shrug. Curious bunch regardless, but not the worst company. At least this will surely make a story later, when at last he returns home. Mayhaps he'll write a book. (From Hither and Thither, a Gnome's Story,) he muses. Then with a soft chuckle, he dismisses the notion entirely. Rubbish! Hehe. 

This line of thought occupies his mind while the road winds indeterminate. 

The path gradually winds to the northwest. About an hour into the journey, the rocky cliffs of the camp's canyon flatten out, replaced by rolling hills and scattered clusters of trees. 

Tam

Tams eyes go wide as she hears the noise. She looks frantically around for a hiding place and loud whispers to get her new companions’ attention. 

“I hear something coming. I think it’s those beasts they talked about! Hide everyone!”

Tam will hide. 

[uh oh. I rolled a 7. Unless we can help each other and get advantage.]

The immediate area around the group doesn't look like the most ideal place for hiding.

To the left, there is a cluster of low, thorny bushes and waist-high grass, offering the quickest concealment. To the right, there is a cluster of young trees that could provide partial cover for two or three of you. About twenty feet further off the path to the right is a singular limestone rock that could provide enough solid cover to hide another couple of people. However, it is a sprint across open ground to reach it.

The wind is blowing from the pursuit towards you, carrying a sharp musk and the high-pitched bickering of voices you might recognise from the armoury. They haven't reached the turn of the trail yet, but the sound is moving fast. 

You can help each other to figure out what to do.

[sounds like we need to split up.]

 Map - the more verdant green bits are bush, the other green bits are trees, everything else green is waist-high grass

Montar smiles grimly. "Ye may hide, friend, but if they're comin' this way, they're lookin' ta do damage, and it's up to us ta stop 'em." He hefts his maul and takes up a position in the center of the path. "I'm no good at hidin', anyway."

Tam will go for the rocks.

[stealth 16]

Draylin

The half elf nods in response to Montar's declaration.  "You will not face them alone," Draylin replies, "but I sure hope it looks like you are."  With  a last nervous glance back towards the encampment he vanishes into the tall grass.

***stealth: 16***

Amadeus looks between the grass and the trees, and the dwarf standing in the road. After a moment of ponderance, he gives a resigned grumble. 

"Oh, to the hells with it!" He takes a quick sprint to the smaller trees, and once more pulls the crossbow out. It seems he'll be getting a chance to test it out. Lovely, his mind flashes with a grim sarcasm. He tries his best to hide, though he's none too suited to the ordeal, so his efforts surely stick out to even the most journeyman of trackers. (Stealth: 7)

Regardless, as he kneels, the gnome readies himself - not to fire, no. The crossbow is still loaded, a fortunate oversight on his part from earlier. Perhaps it will misfire - who knows? Nay, he readies a spell, something to give him a needful advantage on the first man to peak the corner. (Prepares to cast True Strike on the lead pursuer)

Draylin 

***There is a cluster of 5 bushes left of the you are here text - that's the spot in particular that he is going to hide in.  He also has a dagger in each hand as he waits.***

Thistlewick  grumbles under his breath about certain spells that would be very handy... if only he was several levels higher in experience and training.    

WIth a sigh, he will angle to the left (toward the bushes) and snugs his shield on his arm and grips his club in anticipation of what is to come.

Draylin

Many at the monistary value and devote much training to stealth.  Draylin, with some experience due to necessity, took to it like a fish to water.  Listening to Amadeus stomp through the brush sent a soft, involuntary sigh past his lips.  He glanced back; yup, the gnome was undeniably learned and quite handsome, but he stood out like a Goliath at a pixie party.  

He glanced back to where the enemy should come from.  With a glance back to Amadeus he shifted his hiding spot slightly south to place himself in position to intercept, should the need arise.  He glances back again, and gives the gnome a soft whistle, letting him know exactly where he is hidden.

***OoC: if the incoming baddies send someone towards Amadeus, Draylin will be in position to slow them down.***