The wagon was moving again, jolting you awake to a world of pain and hunger. Five days since you have been confined in this reinforced cart, bound, hands tied behind your back, with a few others haggard looking souls. Five days of difficult travel to your deaths, or worst, to a life of slavery. Some of you have been blindfolded and some have even been gagged. You have been fed only once to keep you weak.
The husk, its dead dragon-like body with the soul one of the Dark One's fanatics bound into it in servitude, keeps watch over you. He hasn't spoken once and you don't even know if it can. The twos barely alive and struggling horses are the only living things you have seen in those few days.
You all know the area, having managed to survive for a while on your own or in hidden communities, and you have realised that you are being taken to the only city that remains around here. Ashenfort, the domain of the Mother, a legate whose dark ambitions and evil purpose have turned the entire countryside to a lifeless ruin in her effort to please her Master. She is feeding one of the Leech Stone with unrestrained zeal and you know you are going to contribute.
Hours go by as the Husk tirelessly moves forward. The interior of the cart is cramped and days of seclusion have made the air you breath nauseating. A flash of light brittens the air, almost blinding you and the peal of thunder comes rolling a short few seconds later. Suddenly ice cold water comes pouring down and you relieved to have a roof over your head. A meagre consolation in your predicament.
As the night starts to fall the cart deviates from the road and you see a large house a few feet away. Light can be seen from the windows and you all hear the distinct sound of a door opening as the cart comes closer. A shambling creature moves to gather the horses, and without uttering a sound takes your rolling prison into a barn.
The area is lit with soft glowing lantherns and as you make yourself comfortable, as much as you can, for the night you cast a look at the others.
There eight of you in this small space. To the opposite of the door are an elf with a large gash on his head. Mated blond hair now red with blood the once proud warrior looks pale and has trouble staying awake. Some spittle and drool escapes from his mouth as he tries to say something. Nothing escapes his cracked lips.
Best to him a girl in white linen robes shudders in fright. She has stopped crying a few days ago but now and then a moan escapes her. She has short dark hair a large scared eyes who can't seem to focus.
Take this time to describe your character as you all look at each other. Fearing the worst.
An elven maiden sits in one corner of the cage. Her long black hair is tangled and knotted, filled with all sorts of grime and who knows what. She has only a filthy and torn tunic covering her. she is bruised and battered, obviously having put up a fight when she was captured.
Sitting opposite her is an unconscious dark elf, with more bruises on his face than anywhere else on his body. The roots of his usually silky white hair are stained red with blood. Whatever he did was followed by a beating so brutal, his skin was paler than the palest drow. His tunic is torn and scratched up in multiple places, revealing the cuts and slashes underneath. The dirt and mud settled on his clothes makes them even darker than his skin in his current state. The people sitting in the wagon can barely hear him breathing, creating a feeling of uncertainty. Is he actually dead or just barely alive?
A black aasimar man hunches forward, wearing ruined trousers and a vest. His long hair was once white, but is now filthy and uneven. An bite from an animal of some kind is obvious on his arm, and it appears to be healing slowly. A scrap of fabric is acting as an improvised eye patch over his right eye, but it is lifted by a puffy, swollen skin. His other eye is a piercing dark blue.
Crouching near the elf maid is a man clothed in a muddied tunic of indeterminable color; he is pale of complexion with longish, very light colored hair that is tangled and matted with dried blood. He eyes, as he looks around briefly flash with an intense fierceness, are the color of glacial ice. He whispers, very softly, "We need to take advantage of this abnormal stopping place and try to escape. Back-to-back and maybe we can undue our bonds." He looks at the elf in the corner, "Turn around and let me see if I can loosen your bonds."
The dark elf’s eyes slowly open. He looks around, trying to take in his surroundings. He sees the man crouching in front of him. He whispers, “Where are we?”
"They wheeled us into some barn somewhere on the way to Ashenfort. We haven't been here long,"the aasimar whispers in a husky voice. "I can help untie someone as well."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Salazar - Human Warlock of the Fiend (1) - The Lucarcian Incident
Shepherd Torrent Brallern Water Genasi Druid (1) - Ekuepool
Celeste Belle - Air Genasi Mutant Blood Hunter (1) - Old West
Sprawled in a corner of the cage, a pink-skinned tiefling looks up blearily at the two prisoners slipping free from their bonds with pupiless red eyes. His silk shirt is ripped and stained all over, and his hair and horns, both a deep pink, are matted with dirt. "The Husk is probably standing guard outside. You have a plan to get away from it too?"
"Can't say I think this will work, but worth trying anyway." The black-haired elf maiden says as the others work to untie each other's bonds. She works around to do the same for someone else.
A young halfling sits slumped near the door of the cage, opposite the elf with the gash on his head. He is three feet tall and about forty pounds with light brown hair that looks almost red in the sun at times. Adorned in not much more than rags, the halfing looks weary and morose.
"Leave me here. This is what I deserve." "I think I can help him though"adds the halfling, looking at the injured elf briefly before lowing his head once again and closing his eyes.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The tiefling struggles into a seated position and begins trying to work off his bindings, looking a bit more awake now that he's seen more than half the prisoners attempt to free themselves from their bonds. "Not much of a group jailbreak if we leave a prisoner behind."
The group easily unties each others once a few have managed to get the bonds loose. The elf with a gash doesn't seem to react at all and his glassy eyes are not a good sign. The girl resists at first when you approach her in fright then gives up and let's you untie her. She nods her thanks and whispers her name. " Blanche."
As you are once more able to move, as much as the cramped space let's you, you realize that you have lost much weight and strength.
Read spoiler please:
Make a Con save DC 10: If failed you have a level of Exhaustion
Perception check please for everyone DC 14: Read spoiler if you succeed.
There was no sound on the outside save for the horses eating and drinking on one side of the barn but a light creaking noise alerts you to a door opening. It is quickly followed by someone approaching.
The somber halfling reluctantly helps untie Asharael. He then closes his eyes for a few second and then speaks a strange word few would know, opening his eyes to focus on the injured elf.
Healing Word: 5
"Maybe he doesn't"he says, regarding deserving this fate. "Me, I'm not so sure."
The wagon was moving again, jolting you awake to a world of pain and hunger. Five days since you have been confined in this reinforced cart, bound, hands tied behind your back, with a few others haggard looking souls. Five days of difficult travel to your deaths, or worst, to a life of slavery. Some of you have been blindfolded and some have even been gagged. You have been fed only once to keep you weak.
The husk, its dead dragon-like body with the soul one of the Dark One's fanatics bound into it in servitude, keeps watch over you. He hasn't spoken once and you don't even know if it can. The twos barely alive and struggling horses are the only living things you have seen in those few days.
You all know the area, having managed to survive for a while on your own or in hidden communities, and you have realised that you are being taken to the only city that remains around here. Ashenfort, the domain of the Mother, a legate whose dark ambitions and evil purpose have turned the entire countryside to a lifeless ruin in her effort to please her Master. She is feeding one of the Leech Stone with unrestrained zeal and you know you are going to contribute.
Hours go by as the Husk tirelessly moves forward. The interior of the cart is cramped and days of seclusion have made the air you breath nauseating. A flash of light brittens the air, almost blinding you and the peal of thunder comes rolling a short few seconds later. Suddenly ice cold water comes pouring down and you relieved to have a roof over your head. A meagre consolation in your predicament.
As the night starts to fall the cart deviates from the road and you see a large house a few feet away. Light can be seen from the windows and you all hear the distinct sound of a door opening as the cart comes closer. A shambling creature moves to gather the horses, and without uttering a sound takes your rolling prison into a barn.
The area is lit with soft glowing lantherns and as you make yourself comfortable, as much as you can, for the night you cast a look at the others.
There eight of you in this small space. To the opposite of the door are an elf with a large gash on his head. Mated blond hair now red with blood the once proud warrior looks pale and has trouble staying awake. Some spittle and drool escapes from his mouth as he tries to say something. Nothing escapes his cracked lips.
Best to him a girl in white linen robes shudders in fright. She has stopped crying a few days ago but now and then a moan escapes her. She has short dark hair a large scared eyes who can't seem to focus.
Take this time to describe your character as you all look at each other. Fearing the worst.
"
An elven maiden sits in one corner of the cage. Her long black hair is tangled and knotted, filled with all sorts of grime and who knows what. She has only a filthy and torn tunic covering her. she is bruised and battered, obviously having put up a fight when she was captured.
Sitting opposite her is an unconscious dark elf, with more bruises on his face than anywhere else on his body. The roots of his usually silky white hair are stained red with blood. Whatever he did was followed by a beating so brutal, his skin was paler than the palest drow. His tunic is torn and scratched up in multiple places, revealing the cuts and slashes underneath. The dirt and mud settled on his clothes makes them even darker than his skin in his current state. The people sitting in the wagon can barely hear him breathing, creating a feeling of uncertainty. Is he actually dead or just barely alive?
A black aasimar man hunches forward, wearing ruined trousers and a vest. His long hair was once white, but is now filthy and uneven. An bite from an animal of some kind is obvious on his arm, and it appears to be healing slowly. A scrap of fabric is acting as an improvised eye patch over his right eye, but it is lifted by a puffy, swollen skin. His other eye is a piercing dark blue.
Salazar - Human Warlock of the Fiend (1) - The Lucarcian Incident
Shepherd Torrent Brallern Water Genasi Druid (1) - Ekuepool
Celeste Belle - Air Genasi Mutant Blood Hunter (1) - Old West
DM for A Waterdhavian Heist
Crouching near the elf maid is a man clothed in a muddied tunic of indeterminable color; he is pale of complexion with longish, very light colored hair that is tangled and matted with dried blood. He eyes, as he looks around briefly flash with an intense fierceness, are the color of glacial ice. He whispers, very softly, "We need to take advantage of this abnormal stopping place and try to escape. Back-to-back and maybe we can undue our bonds." He looks at the elf in the corner, "Turn around and let me see if I can loosen your bonds."
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
The dark elf’s eyes slowly open. He looks around, trying to take in his surroundings. He sees the man crouching in front of him. He whispers, “Where are we?”
"They wheeled us into some barn somewhere on the way to Ashenfort. We haven't been here long," the aasimar whispers in a husky voice. "I can help untie someone as well."
Salazar - Human Warlock of the Fiend (1) - The Lucarcian Incident
Shepherd Torrent Brallern Water Genasi Druid (1) - Ekuepool
Celeste Belle - Air Genasi Mutant Blood Hunter (1) - Old West
DM for A Waterdhavian Heist
The drow visibly struggles to get his hands free and gives up with a huff. “I’ll help you, you help me.”
"That's the idea," Bitter Ashes says. "Turn around and let me try t' loose yer bonds." Bitter Ashes turns so he can get to the dark elf's bonds.
Acrobatics 17 DEX 20
He will try and loosen them enough so his hands can slip free, or undo them altogether.
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
((I imagine those rolls would free Mordyn’s hands.))
Mordyn will attempt to untie the man’s bonds once his are free.
Dex: 23 ((no dex skills with proficiency, so just default modifier))
Sprawled in a corner of the cage, a pink-skinned tiefling looks up blearily at the two prisoners slipping free from their bonds with pupiless red eyes. His silk shirt is ripped and stained all over, and his hair and horns, both a deep pink, are matted with dirt. "The Husk is probably standing guard outside. You have a plan to get away from it too?"
"I'll eat the bloody thing to death if I have to," Bitter Ashes snarls quietly.
Panic is a mechanism that strengthens the gene pool.
"Can't say I think this will work, but worth trying anyway." The black-haired elf maiden says as the others work to untie each other's bonds. She works around to do the same for someone else.
Acrobatics: 10
Mordyn is sitting across from her so he’ll help her out too.
Dex: 9
A young halfling sits slumped near the door of the cage, opposite the elf with the gash on his head. He is three feet tall and about forty pounds with light brown hair that looks almost red in the sun at times. Adorned in not much more than rags, the halfing looks weary and morose.
"Leave me here. This is what I deserve." "I think I can help him though" adds the halfling, looking at the injured elf briefly before lowing his head once again and closing his eyes.
The tiefling struggles into a seated position and begins trying to work off his bindings, looking a bit more awake now that he's seen more than half the prisoners attempt to free themselves from their bonds. "Not much of a group jailbreak if we leave a prisoner behind."
Acrobatics/Dexterity: 17
"Nobody deserves what is going to happen to us. Here. Let me untie you, then you untie me."
Asharael moves to untie the bindings on the halfling.
14
Salazar - Human Warlock of the Fiend (1) - The Lucarcian Incident
Shepherd Torrent Brallern Water Genasi Druid (1) - Ekuepool
Celeste Belle - Air Genasi Mutant Blood Hunter (1) - Old West
DM for A Waterdhavian Heist
The group easily unties each others once a few have managed to get the bonds loose. The elf with a gash doesn't seem to react at all and his glassy eyes are not a good sign. The girl resists at first when you approach her in fright then gives up and let's you untie her. She nods her thanks and whispers her name. " Blanche."
As you are once more able to move, as much as the cramped space let's you, you realize that you have lost much weight and strength.
Read spoiler please:
Make a Con save DC 10: If failed you have a level of Exhaustion
Perception check please for everyone DC 14: Read spoiler if you succeed.
There was no sound on the outside save for the horses eating and drinking on one side of the barn but a light creaking noise alerts you to a door opening. It is quickly followed by someone approaching.
Con save: 17
Perception: 12
The somber halfling reluctantly helps untie Asharael. He then closes his eyes for a few second and then speaks a strange word few would know, opening his eyes to focus on the injured elf.
Healing Word: 5
"Maybe he doesn't" he says, regarding deserving this fate. "Me, I'm not so sure."
Leshanna con: 12
Perception: 18