The last memory you all share is that of the same portly figure, a posh looking fellow dressed in the day's fashion, complete with embroidered coat and waistcoat, maroon breeches, silk stockings, a powdered wig, and enough lace to clothe a small town. His face is sallow and sags slightly, a fact poorly hidden by his makeup, which was done in a rather slipshod manner. He holds a scroll, which he begins to unfurl as the loops of rope are slipped around each of your necks, tightened as you stand unsteadily atop the stools placed beneath your feet. The beatings and assorted indescribably tortures that each of you have undergone prior to this event, especially the spellcasters (or 'witches,' as they brand you) have left you unable to fight back, barely aware of what's going on.

The fop begins to speak, as he regards each of you with an unveiled scorn. "Well, now, we've got quite the motley group here, now haven't we? First, a savage." He sneers at Rhiv. "Your crimes include theft, barbarism, heathenism, murder in just about every degree imaginable, assault in likewise, and, of course, odour. You are guilty on all accounts, and sentenced to death for your crimes. May God have mercy on your soul." His tone makes it clear that he neither hopes for nor expects such a thing. A masked man kicks the stool out from under the battered barbarian, and the rope tightens around his neck as he begins to hang.

Ignoring Rhiv's thrashing, the portly prat prates on, moving on to Alcazar. He spits. "A witch, eh? Seems like there's more and more of you each day. Disgusting creatures. Your crimes include perversion of the natural order, treason, heresy, vending of illicit substances, practice of profane prestidigitation, and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You are guilty on all accounts, and setenced to death for your crimes. May God have mercy on your soul. If you still have one, which I doubt." The stool is kicked, and Alcazar joins Rhiv in his thrashing.

The judge moves on. You're not quite sure if he's an actual court-appointed judge, but you weren't really granted much of a trial, and he's very much the judgy type, so he's about the closest to one you're getting. He stops in front of Daugherty. He begins to scan the scroll, and his brow furrows. He looks up. "It seems that you are not on here. There seems to have been a— pardon, what's that?" Another man, significantly younger, hands another scroll to the judge. He unfurls it, and begins to chuckle as the piece of paper goes on, and on, and on. Eventually, he speaks. "Well, you've certainly angered the wrong person. Your crimes include... well, let's just sum it up under 'hooliganry,' mmm? Very well. You are guilty, Devil take you." The stool is kicked, and Daugherty drops. Both Rhiv and Alcazar have slowed by this point, but the barbarian is holding on surprisingly well for a man with a rope 'round his neck.

As Daugherty's legs jerk, Haleigh is next. "Another witch? My, the Devil must be up all not with how many of you sick people are knocking at his door. Well, no matter, you'll be passing through that door for good soon enough. Your crimes include much of the same stuff as the other one, what with the defiling and the perversion and the foul magicks and, if I'm going to be quite honest, I think the whole lot of you should get the odour one, not just the first fellow. There is one different one here, that's... er, 'looking at me in that way, no not like that, it's a very specific look, like this, yes, like that, and no I don't really care if you've got a lazy eye or not, my point stands.' Right. Well, sentence is death. To Hell with you! The stool tips, and Haleigh falls.

Finally, there is Sep. The judge takes a look at the scroll, and sighs. "Another witch. Honestly. Well, at least you're a little different from the last two. Your crimes include the typical witchy stuff, as well as... let's see here, that's ominous portents, portentous omens, production of unwanted gouts of flame, foolish talk of nonexistent and fantastical creatures, and disrupting meditations. And, you know what, I'm writing odour on there. I am. I can do that. So there. Your sentence is death, good riddance." The judge packs up his scroll and begins to stroll off, as the final stool is kicked. By now, the first three have stopped their thrashing, and Haleigh is slowing. Within ten to twenty minutes, you're all dead.

And then suddenly, you're not. Your eyes crack painfully open, revealing the same scene you all just left. Swinging gently in the breeze atop a hill, looking out to the sea. Whereas the sun was high in the sky earlier, it is now low on the horizon, almost set. Something else seems off about it, though your blurry eyes can't quite pick it out. A painful chafing about your necks helps you all come back to your senses, and you realize that you're still hanging. The nooses are tight around your necks, the stools discarded, and yet... it doesn't feel like you're suffocating. It's very uncomfortable, of course, but oxygen starvation is less of a problem than the painful stretching feeling that comes from having your entire body's weight carried by your neck. The judge, the executioner, or anyone else who was in the area is now gone, and you're left hanging alongside your fellow ex-executionees. 

Feel free to introduce your characters and figure out a way down. You all ironically feel a lot better than you did before the hanging, and are at full hit points, spell slots, etc. Oh, and it doesn't feel like your skulls have been caved in by the beatings of the guards anymore.

     "Anyone of you good with knots?" are the first words out of his mouth as he... awakens? Re-enlivens?  "Or a dagger to cut the ropes with would be grand...  Sometime before they notice they didn't quite finish the job would be ideal."

     Maybe he woke up a bit quicker than the others.  Maybe they weren't in a talkative mood.  Perhaps just not the trusting type, he couldn't really blame them.  For whatever the reason, none of the others who seemed to be in the same predicament as he answered.  "Sure, sure... Let me see if this works then.  Usually try to avoid this kind of thing with others around but you all don't seem the snitching type..." Having said that, Daugherty half closes his eyes and does his best to concentrate on the bonds around his wrists.  To envision them as best he can while also relaxing his wrists.  Summoning what he considered his natural luck but which in reality was the arcane spark within him, he sung "Shave and a haircut" and then twice clucked his tongue to complete the rhythm just as he tried to flex his wrists free from their bonds.  ((Cast Knock to try to free his wrists.))

     Even before he knew if his spell had worked or not, Daugherty was casting the side eye to those on either side of him and trying to see if there were other eyes around.  His luck, or spells if you must, tended to be accompanied by faint green and blue and orange musical notes around the center of the effect, so he did his best to never be seen using it.  The reason should be plainly obvious...

Sep looks up, spotting a bluebird perched on the gallows, singing the sweetest song.  The sun shines on his cheek and his dry lips form a crooked smile.  He hears the sound of the ocean in the distance, feels the gentle play of the wind making them swing slightly.  For a moment he takes in his senses anew, surprised and even in spite of the predicament, delighted.  He starts to wriggle and try to get his hands unbound from behind him, focusing and meditating, having been through much worse pain, ignoring the burning at his wrists.  

Acrobatics to wriggle loose from his bonds :  21 

The ropes around Daugherty's wrists disentangle and fall to the ground, and he is freed His wrists are certainly a bit sore, but at least he can probably use his hands now. Sep manages to twist and contort his body, moving his arms under his legs so that his bound wrists are now in front. From there, it's easy enough to use his teeth and some strategic wiggling to untie the ropes.

Ow.  As Haleigh opens her eyes slowly, the pain in her neck is all she feels.  But, she realizes, breathing apparently is no longer an issue and the pain in her neck is the only pain, so there's that.  She takes stock of her situation and inwardly groans.  She takes in the serenity of the area, feeling at odds with it as she remembers the cruel judge and how they were all disposed of.  Speaking of...

She casts a glance to the others next to her and hears one down at the end saying something about a dagger, but not sure what else.  But when she notices the man next to her flip his arms in front of himself to undo the knot, figures that's at least worth trying...  She starts actually moving and rubbing her wrists together trying to lengthen the rope a bit to give her more room to get her legs through.

Acrobatics to try and copy Sep 7

     Once his hands are freed Daughtery smiles and tries to whistle a "phew" but finds his mouth and lips too dried and cracked.  Whatever, he still had this damnable rope around his neck to deal with before he was truly free.  That shouldn't be too much of a problem, right?  

     Though it occurs to him even as he brings his hands up to work upon the noose that he should be panicking...  Struggling.  He should be gasping for air and fighting to hang on to... consciousness?  Life?  But perhaps those are moot now.

     Still, the noose... His hands work slower now, less rushed.  He's become calmed with the realization that the need to save his own life is past now.  This gives him the peace of mind to realize that even if his hands cannot do it he has time to cast another spell to get it done.

Dex to untie noose?  17 (or can modify if should be something else..)

     If the knot cannot be untied, it is Knocked instead - though until he's more sure what is going on and who these others are it may be best to reserve his resources.

     Once freed, through whichever method, Daugherty would dust himself off and look to the others.  Seeing they too are attempting to free themselves he assumes whatever happened to him happened to them all.  So, no need to hurry then.  Excepting the possibility of passerby or look-loos seeing this unnatural activity and raising a shout to the guards.  Suddenly hurried once more, Daugherty would rush to the woman and try to assist her escape, if still needed.  Otherwise the closest to him, stage-whispering to whoever else is freed to hurry up and help the others.  "Not sure who you all are but we're all obviously in the same predicament. Seems that makes us allies, at least for now..."

Haleigh attempts to replicate Sep's feat, but clearly she lacks his acrobatic talents, and she really only manages to stretch her elbow in a rather painful way. Meanwhile, Daugherty manages to slip the knot up the noose, and slip out. The skin around his neck is swollen and purplish, but at least he's free. He doesn't see anyone besides his fellow ex-executees, which is odd, but not his biggest problem at the moment.

Well, this is unexpected. A dry coughing sound, what might have started as laughter escapes Alcazar's throat.

His long dark hair clings to the side of his head as he struggles vainly against the bonds on his wrists. By the look of him, he is unused to any physical labour, and the foppish clothes he wears suggest a wealthy background. Little good it did him.

He flails his legs and contrives to spin his hanging body to look around at the circumstance. His movements slow and he ends up facing Daugherty, though his eyes still roam their surrounds, looking for things he might use, or signs of gaurds. When he is satisfied that there are no longer any watchers, mists and darkness collect about him, and a moment later he is standing free of the gallows and his bonds, rubbing his wrists, and sucking in fresh air out of long habit.

He looks up at Haleigh as she struggles vainly, then starts to untie her. "A fellow artiste. I think that's what His Lordhsip called you?"

As he works to free her, he turns back to Daughtery.

"Once free, do you have a plan?" he asks, then assists him if he has not already freed himself.

Rhiv is angry. Very angry. He WILL find that fat bastard and destroy him.  But what is going on...? He try's to look around but is unable to due because there is a .....rope?...around his neck? He remembers that stupid man again and he feels the familiar burn inside. He reaches down lets the rage into his hands. His fingers curve, harden and elongate, becoming his favorite weapon, CLAWS, he shreds the rope around his wrists and then slashes the rope at his neck. Seeing the others also strung up, somehow fills him with unnatural.... sympathy?...Bah! No one should be strung up by that man! and he slashes them down one by one.

Alcazar frees himself in a burst of mist, and Rhiv shreds his bonds. Working together with Daugherty, the two of them untie Haleigh's hands and cut down both Haleigh and Sep. When you have a moment to breathe... er, that is, a moment to not breathe, you begin to understand a few things. First of all, you're not breathing. If you had been, you most definitely would have stopped by now, on account of the nooses that were around your necks up until a moment ago. You also notice that all your injuries are gone, though you were previously beaten practically to a pulp. Well, all of your injuries except for one. Every last one of you has thick ring of discolored, bruised flesh around your necks where the nooses were, and all of your voices are scratchy and hoarse, your throats very much in pain. The scaffold you were on lies on top of a hill, not very far from a chalky cliff that leads down to the crashing sea below. Down the hill there is a city not too far in the distance, its walls looming.

Sep nods to Rhiv in thanks, he was prepared to pull himself up on the rope to create slack and untie the rope, but he is pleased to be on the ground, he pulls the last of the rope off his neck and rubs the large bruise underneath.  

With a croaking hoarse voice, “How…. how did we get here?  Who are you?  I can’t remember much of anything.  I know that my name is Sep…”. He keeps rubbing his throat and looking at each of you.  

Alcazar looks up, rubbing his throat and repeatedly trying to clear it, but to no avail: When he speaks his voice sounds rough and weak.

"Whatever it is, I must remember to thank whoever did it." He looks around at each of the others, a faint smile playing on his lips,  "This new...ah...state...has some undoubted advantages, but...everyone does look a little pallid, eh?" He examines the back of his hands. "I might even pass for a local now, though that will no doubt decrease my exotic charms." He sighs a theatrically, then stares at the distant town for a while, trying to identify it, if he is familiar with it.

"Should we perhaps introduce ourselves?" he asks.

Haleigh nods to Daugherty and Rhiv as they help her down, muttering a thanks but not looking up.  As she slowly becomes adjusted to her new state of being, she rubs her neck and remembers the harsh words of the judge.  Her eye was something she already thought about constantly and to have him berate her about it in front of all those people... she'd be blushing if she could.  

"I...I am not sure how I got here, I'm Haleigh" she says to the floor.  She slowly looks up and starts looking toward the town, trying to recall anything about it.  "What, what do we do now?"

Alcazar bows with a flourish, "Alcazar Tre..." he frowns. "Tre...Well, that's damnably odd. I ... "

With a look of confusion he glances at the others, then after a moment he seems to recover and turns back to Haleigh, "Alcazar's the name, call me Caz if you prefer. Most do, except my mother." Strange: I know that, but I can't recall her face. Or her name.

"As to how we got here, I believe we were hanged and left to rot, if my memory served. But I wouldn't believe everything the judge said: I am quite sure that I have never practiced profane prestidigitation!"

He looks around at his companions, pacing now, trying to restore the sluggish circulation to his arms and legs. "Nevertheless, it would seem that some power has intervened on our behalf...and I for one would like to understand who it is and what they did." Again, his gaze lingers on the town.

Sep still seems disoriented, looking around, gaining his bearings.  He looks back at the spot from which he was hanging.  Still hoarse, he says "I know one thing I'd like to do."  he looks around, looking them up and down, "I'd like to burn down those gallows."  He keeps rubbing his neck, considering his options.

Since Rhiv has released himself, he begins to pace back and forth. He is still seething, letting the warmth of the rage fill him.  "I will not let it stand. Judge, jury and executioner! I will find him and destroy him." He says half to himself, the pain of his gravelly voice fueling his anger. Then hearing the others speaking, "Yeah burn down the gallows. That way they will think someone else burned them down and our bodies with them." 

Rhiv listens to the man called Daugherty prattle on about scarves and sneaking around and plans and such. "Well since I'm 'n such 'genteel' company, I am Rhiv... ummm.... hmmmm. I can't seem to 'member the rest o' it. And I maybe inf'mous...not sure.. . but anyway, I dunna think very well. Not sure If I was always thisaways. Or maybe me brain didn't wake up all da way. I guess if I dun wan my revenge, Imma gonna need help doin it. So you makes a plan an I'll help carry it out." He folds his arms across his broad chest. "An whaddabout the rest of ye!"

As the others start to come alive with conversation, Haleigh hears talk about burning down the gallows.  Now that brings her spirits up as well as her head.  She looks around and sees everyone is pretty clear of it and starts moving her hands around.  Red crackling energy starts, but then she hears that they aren't really looking for that yet.  So she hangs her head and stops what she is doing.  Backs up a bit and waits to hear what they all want to do.

Alcazar initially seems reluctant to burn down the gallows, for fear of attracting attention, but as the others continue to speak, he nods.

"A fine plan," he says. "It will, at the least, take them some time to determine our bodies are missing. And even if they do, I doubt they will expect to find us still...walking." Not breathing. Not living. But walking....who did this!?!?

He dusts of his clothes and straightens his frock coat then nods toward the gallows as flames gather around his hands. "Best make quick work of it, then off to the constabulary and the judge." He smiles a malicious smile. "I think it might be time for the latter to face justice, eh?"