"Now I'm not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but I could've sworn I 'eard some'n! Could be--" Xanranzan, a tall, muscular human, or humanoid at least given that his skin appeared to be made of some type of cloudy ruby quartz stone finely sculpted in the likeness of a man, and bear eyes the solid color of citrine quartz,  stopped mid-sentence hearing the voices. And not the aggravated voices of their captors, but faintly new ones to the sharp-eared man.

Left to his skivvies, or the next closest thing since being captured, the ruby haired earth genasi looks frantically around once more for anything that could help attract more attention. "Don't suppose you got the 'touch' for sending people signs of where ya are, would'ja?" He asked his cellmate. Then he calls out again, "Over here! Let us out!"

(What are the other three doing?  Are you heading towards the voices?)

Rubin moves towards the voices, but stays in the unlit areas of the tunnel as much as possible as he does so.

You all turn the corner, and reach an iron door.  It's locked on the outside with a latch, but it's easy enough to open and no traps are discovered.

Inside, a half-dozen straw pallets covered by threadbare blankets are spread out on the floor, and a cask of water leans against one wall. A dark, slit-like window looks out to the west.  Two figures are chained against the wall, both unarmored.

Quote from LordShadowthorn >>

(What are the other three doing?  Are you heading towards the voices?)

Kethra would head with Mr. Tyde and Rubin to the voices. (EDIT: Wah you beat me to it.)

"Ain't no maybe about it, my uh, friend? Boy are you lot a sight fer sore eyes though. The name's Xanranzan, fer what it matters." Xanranzan said, greeting Tyde and Kethra with a smile. "Don't mind tall, tusky, and silent there. I think they were more rough with bring him in than me." 

(Small amount of retconning magic)

Tyde remembers he found a key on one of the bodies, and that it's probably for these chains.

Quote from Mehmen >>l

"Ain't no maybe about it, my uh, friend? Boy are you lot a sight fer sore eyes though. The name's Xanranzan, fer what it matters." Xanranzan said, greeting Tyde and Kethra with a smile. "Don't mind tall, tusky, and silent there. I think they were more rough with bring him in than me." 

While Mr. Tyde frees one guy, Kethra puts her hood back on as she steps out of the shadows and tries to break the chains on tall, tusky and silent.

Athletics: 18 

Rubin steps into the light to give a short greeting to the prisoners.  He then glances to his companions.  “I’ll keep an eye out for any more enemies...”  He then fades back into the darkness, invisible once again.

"I'm not one to judge one way another, my new found friends." Xanranzan grins as he rubbed at his wrist and cracked his joints on the spot. "You know when I thought those skeevahs got a hold of me, I half figured that'd be it fer a bit there. Not too pleasant a thought to have lingering in a place like this. At least--" He trailed off there frowning for a second, but then he shakes his head and smiles.

"That can come later. I don't suppose you took care of the rest of their lot? if not, ya'll wouldn't happen to have a decent blade I could on to? At least until we find the rest of my things. And, uh.. not to look a gift Bulette in the mouth, but who are you folk?"

<Sorry every one. Lost the track of the thread.>

Sorak Darkblade, the half-orc mystic warrior, sat cross legged in his cell stoically meditating and ignoring the current predicament of his temporary incarceration. His massive form, even in such a restive position, took up the majority of his cell. His eyes flashed open revealing distinctive yellow irises. As the newcomers entered their cell area, he stood in one fluid motion. His supple muscles moved with cat like grace, and his bared skin were crisscrossed with a plethora of scars from his days in the gladitorial pits.

As the human female entered his cell and reached for his manacles, snapping them open with ease. Sorak raised his left eyebrow in clear surprise at her feat of strength. He flashes her a toothy, tusk filled grin. He introduces himself, "Many thanks! Sorak Darkblade am I. In your debt am I, friends. Saddened to hear you say the reavers are slain. They have affronted my honor. I wished to discuss this with them."

Xanranzan takes up the dagger with an appreciative smile, and spent a few seconds examining its edge and balance. Distracted, he only catches snippets of the follow-up and fails to immediately answer Tyde in his obsession with studying the blade. Concentration finally breaks after hearing a bit of the exchange between Tyde and Sorak. The latter of which, though he never admitted to it aloud outside maybe a slip of the tongue, reminded him of a goliath.

"Well, I gotta say ya'll did pretty well fer yerselves. Oh, and, uh... uhhh... You were asking if I knew where they took our stuff? Well, I'm somewhat ashamed to it admit it, but I don't rightly know. Made a bit of a fuss when I first came too after the kidnapping, and they knocked me out at some point on the way here. So, I can only assume the salt lickers jacked it in my sleep." He said frankly. "But, I don't imagine its too far from here. Less trouble to sort if they wind up with a larger haul of prisoners." Xanranzan frowned at the admission.

Sorak nods in agreement. He says, "I also do not recall how I came to be here. Last I recall was being in a tavern."

Quote from Brian_Avery >>

"My name is Tyde. Here, you can use my dagger for now." Tyde hands Xanranzan his dagger."

Kethra whips her head to meet Mr. Tyde's eyes after so easily giving his name out in the middle of an enemy fortress, then giving out a weapon. However, as everyone continues to talk her shoulders relax a little as she realizes that these two guys share the same common enemy.

Quote from BizarreBalthazar >>

"Many thanks! Sorak Darkblade am I. In your debt am I, friends. Saddened to hear you say the reavers are slain. They have affronted my honor. I wished to discuss this with them."

"Same here!" the cloaked girl exclaimed, which reveals a lock of white hair which she quickly tucks back in behind her hood. "They killed my teacher, Master Stormwind and took our town's venerated sword, The Silver Watchtower! And you need weapons, huh?"

The petite girl opens up her hood, pulling out the oversized maul of a famous local mercenary leader, Jolliver Grimjaw. It drips fresh of blood and has a few teeth embedded in it, as if it was forcibly shoved into a shark's maw and twisted around. She puts it on the ground standing up with a bit of a thud. "Uhm, I have this weapon, but I'm kind of fond of it. I can give you a couple of throwing javelins, and...oh, I know! Here, hold this."

She then takes out a greataxe shaft with dwarven writing, and hands it to her tusked acquaintance. Then taking out a blade of ogrillion make and a blacksmith's hammer in her other hand, she'll offer to fix the head onto the shaft.

"It's a little too big for me, anyways. And you say those warriors are called reavers, huh? We never really let one live long enough to tell us about their life story, so that's good to know..."

Sorak holds up a staying hand to the petite woman with her bristling assortment of weapons. He says, "Armor they take from I; but never alone am I. The Darkblade is never far." Sorak extends his right hand away from his body. In a moment shadows gather in his hand and extend upward forming the outline of a large bladed weapon, before coalescing into a dark steel great sword. The blade is almost as long as the tusked warrior is tall. Mystical runes trace along the middle of the blade, appearing to almost diminish the light in it's immediate vicinity.

Sorak flashes his tusk filled grin once more. The familiar weight of accursed blade in his hands a comfort. He says, "The Darkblade will never leave I. It is atonement for past transgressions. Keep your arms, fair one or perhaps Xanranzan can make use of them." Sorak moves to leave the cell in his meager attire and wielding The Darkblade.

Trying to hide her amazement at the introduction of Sorak's Darkblade, the hooded girl quickly gathers up her stuff and moves closer to the wizard. "Y-Y-Yeah, good idea! And if we can't find your effects, we can always exhume that armored wench we sank to the bottom of the riverbed a few minutes ago. You can dry it off and I can fix it up to his size..."

And more privately she whispers to Mr. Tyde, "Sorry, but I was just surprised that you were so trusting all of the sudden! We know there's more than one cult moving around these parts...but at least these guys don't seem to have any cult-ish markings on them, I guess."

"Huh?Is that what they're called?" Xanranzan muttered to themselves, then shrugged believing the name not really matter all too much. Whether they were Reavers or Reapers or Salt Lickers or Whatever, their actions spoke louder than any title. "I'm sorry to hear that 'bout your master. Hope-" His stopped there with wide eyes at the veritable arsenal on the girl. Which funnily enough through him more for a loop than her feat of strength moments before, and warranted a drawn out whistle and nods of approval.

Somehow, he manages to go even more bug-eyed at Sorak's summoning of a blade. Before he can ask the first obvious question to come out however, the suggestion gives him pause. "... I'd appreciate one'm javelins, but uh... like yer friend is suggesting... kind of... uh... Probably better we sort the rest of that lot out 'fore we worry overly much about some impromptu "repairs", as it were I think. Though it is appreciated as far as looking out for the rest of our stuff" He chuckled. "And if its all the same with you lot, I'd prefer to keep to the, uh, proverbial back of the cart, as it were, until I'm more-" He gestures up and done himself. "Equipped.. heh.. But no worries. I do know a bit of magic for mending wounds and couple other tricks that aughta help us out in a pinch."

Rubin steps out of the darkness, becoming visible again.  “If we are done with all of this talking, we should either head onward or back the way we came in...  He frowns at the others.  “What are we after down here anyway?  I thought we were seeking those deligates, this place seems a bit far afield for that searching...”

"Sounds good! Could use the stretch, among other reasons." Xanranzan comments, chuckles, and would move to follow after the others.

"We're here for the delegates yeah. But after getting through four fights already today, we're all getting tired...if we don't see anyone for a while, maybe we should backtrack and rest by the docks."

The hooded girl shrugs and follows the party. Taking out a javelin from her cloak she hands it to the citrine eyed genasi, but also offers him a shortsword. 

"I've got a javelin to spare, but are you sure you don't want something a little..lighter?"

If Xan takes any of the items from her, Kethra curiously looks over his ruby skin then averts her gaze. 

"Sorry."