You are awoken on Monday, December 11 of 4717, shivering in the morning that has crept into your sleeping chambers. The sun has not yet crept above the horizon, but it's light has brought the sky to a deep, starless blue. There appear to be no clouds or storms in sight.
Jasper is woken by his adopted family's morning stirrings. His mother begins to prepare breakfast for the inn guests while his brother gets readybfor a day in the mines.
Kurt Iron wakes up in an outhouse attatched to the inn. He works as the inn's stablehand and gets ready with the rest of the inn.
Keve Shadler wakes up among the gears and tools of his father's workshop, realizing he had fallen asleep while working again. He dutifully gets back to repairing miner's axes and fixing cart wheels.
Agrimar and Cyrene wake chained tobeach other. There clothes are torn and muscles sore from days of traveling with little rest. What rest they have gotten was on rocky ground or the rough splintery floor of the covered slaver's wagon. They hear a shout from the feont of the wagon. "Wake up, filth. We'll be in Mulberry by Sunrise." Wanting to avoid the slaver's whips and clubs, they oblige.
Kurt awakens to the cold, clear morning. As he pulls aside his threadbare bedding, he once again thanks his ancestors for his unnatural tolerance for extreme temperatures.
Pulling simple clothes over his tall and lean frame he smiles sardonically at his visage in his washbowl.
A more human appearance might have been nice. This green skin and batlike face aren't doing me any favors. At least in Chiliax my kind is accepted and not reviled
He finishes his morning abolutuins, and spends a short time preparing his magic for the day, not that he would need it; but an ordered day is a prepared day.
Leaving his spartan sleeping area he begins his day, revelling in the simple, logical order of the morning tasks.
Feeding and brushing the horses, mucking stalls, hauling grain and hay. Good work, honest work.
It will do for now he thinks as he glances back to where his pack and gear lay; but it won't be too much longer before I'll need to move on
His lust for new knowldge would eventually push him to a new place, it always did.
Cyrene wakes up shivering, after the warmth of Apholine's light on the plains of the First World she is constantly surprised by how dark, cold and miserable the material world is. Reflexes first honed with six-legged stallions has her uncoiling from the little shelter she was able to find, between the lean figure of the miner she is chained to and the wagon wheel.
Wake! She pushes the thought into her companions head, short and sharp, hopefully not enough for him to figure out that she was the source. As he stirs she scoops some dirt out of the wheel and smears it across her face. One of the guards had been looking closely at her last night, the day's rain had cleaned her face too much. Being a mute with strange eyes made her valuable - that much she had gleaned from the mental gloating of the slaver, but his men were not concerned with money so much as current pleasures - hence the mud.
Eyes downcast Cyrene takes her place for another dreary day of trudging.
One peculiar thing that Agrimar had noticed in his time as a slave: after what bits of sleep you manage, you always seem to be as tired and sore as when you lay down the night before. Today was no different. Agrimar had been lying awake for maybe ten minutes, after pulling out the small keepsake of feathers he kept hidden in his boot and silently praying and paying his respects to his father, before lying down and closing his eyes again, trying to snatch a few more minutes of rest.
They were headed someplace called "Mulberry's End". Wherever it was, Agrimar reasoned that it couldn't be much worse than the past year, especially the last few days. As hard as the mining was, Agrimar was strong, and he could focus his mind on other things while doing it. But the inactivity was torture for him. For his whole life, he had never spent this long in confinement, unable to move.
A short while later, he hears the slaver shout for everyone to wake up. However, there is another, almost subconscious voice telling him to wake up. Shrugging it off as his desire not to be beaten by the guards, Agrimar stretches out the stiffness of lying on the bare, rocky ground. Around him, the other slaves have woken up. Almost all of them had been slaves for longer than him, and in their eyes, there was no life. He has always had a hard time reading people, but even he could tell the hope of release had been beaten out of them a long time ago.
Chained beside him, Agrimar sees another slave. She looks like an elf, but has two strange antennae. She seemed to be a mute, but they usually weren't allowed to talk anyway.
Keve lifts his head off the work bench and wipes the drool from the side of his mouth. He lets out a faint groan as he stands up to stretch, sore from the awkward sleeping position he found himself in. After stoking the fireplace, a quick breakfast, and cleaning up his mess from the night before, Keve begins gathering his things to set off for town. "Just another day." He groans to himself, obviously bored of this repetitive routine. He grabs his backpack and his protection, and begins to head out of the door.
Blasted sun!
Jasper woke with the bustle of the new day, yet he wasn't exactly pleased about it. That would be a rare occurrence for him, working late into the evening as he did. He didn't care for the brightness or heat the star provided either, and today, he wouldn't have time to go for a swim.
Wonder what that taskmaster of a woman wants from me this time...
Quickly donning a thin shirt and trousers, the blonde elf hoped he could walk-off the morning fatigue. As usual, he conjured water as he walked to his workplace to wash himself. If nothing else, his unique connection to the liquid element provided him superior hygiene in the town. It made him attractive yet also distanced himself from some people - envy was a strong feeling.
"Morning! What needs doing today?" The door to The Rusty Scythe did its namesake proud, squeaking on its hinges behind him as he entered. "Gretchen?"
"Haven't you got a pair of eyes to match that mouth of yours, boy? Take care of that pile of dishes! When you're done, fetch some firewood." The middle-aged owner of the place didn't beat around the bush when it came to work, but she was actually nice on the inside - if you did your job. "And stop flirting with the customers! That's not part of your show!"
Surely enough, the vibrant half-elf was adept at charming most people who came to the hole-in-the-wall. During the evenings, he did a bit of basic juggling, waterwielding, and dancing to entertain the guests. Gretchen didn't seem to understand if flirting was what the customers wanted, it wasn't really his place to say no. The extra tips for "special requests" didn't hurt either...
She'd have food ready for him when he returned with the firewood. He grabbed the handcart and his shortbow - in case any wild game presented itself - before heading to the edge of the woods. What will I find today?..
As Jasper, Kurt and Ceve go about their morning chores, they see a large caravan headed to the center of town. Jasper immediately recognizes the kind as he watches chained men and women plod along behind children restrained within a large covered wagon. Men carrying whips and clubs march alongside, occasionally threatening one to put them back in line. While unlikely that they would ever recognize him, or even that they're the same band that picked him up, their presence still chills Jasper's spine.
From the stables, Kurt spots the slavers as they roll up the road to the center of town.
Keve is doing some shopping in the market as the covered slave wagon come to a stop in the town square. A handsome man barks orders to the slave handlers and proceeds to methodically visit each of the shop owners. Several of the merchants come out to inspect the wares, one or two even leave with a new piece of property.
Agrimar and Cyrene are lined up with the others as they are inspected by the slavers to make the merchandise presentable. Cold water is splashed on you to remove some dirt and grime. Extra care is given is washing off Cyrene's face. Shortly after, strangers begin to come by, looking you over even more closely. When questions are asked, they are about you, not to you. Occasionally one may ask you to do something as a demonstration, but none purchase you yet.
Kurt grunts at the slave caravan as it passes. He didn't much care for the practice of slavery personally, it was the law of the land, and he respected the law.
As much as I was disturbed by my abandonment, at least my father didn't sell me to the likes of these people. I have come to enjoy my freedom
Knowing the convoy had nothing to do with him, Kurt returns to his chores in the stable.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Keve's heart grows heavy as he watches the caravan enter the market. Just another damned day. He thinks to himself once again. The caravans are nothing new to Keve, but they only get harder and harder to see. Keve places his hand on his pistol for a split second contemplating putting a bullet between the eyes of the leader.
Unfortunately, Keve has seen what happens to those that step out of line with the slavers.
As Keve looks closer at the "merchandise", a female elf, beautiful and unlike any other elf he had ever seen catches his eye before he quickly averts his gaze. Keve finishes his shopping and pays for his supplies quickly to get a closer look of her.
"How much are they?" He asks one of the slavers, trying to seem like a prospective buyer.
As Jasper was making his way back with a half-full handcart, he watched the people-peddlers with loathing. Anger flared inside him, for while he couldn't be certain they were the same bunch that kidnapped him and Brennel, he was sure they were bad people. Not considering himself a saint, Jasper nevertheless saw himself as a decent person. In Cheliax, he'd come to realize over the years, that made him more benevolent than most.
He slowed his passage as he came by the cruel crew. I wish I could do something. In this country, the weight of the empire came down upon you if you defied their edicts though, so little could be done. Nothing overt, anyway, and although he might be able to swipe something in the right situation, he was no combatant. Most of his martial mastery was on the stage, though Jasper imagined he might at least give the appearance of prowess. Still, it would take more than illusions to bridge this sad chasm of affairs.
While most of the shopkeepers came to view and purchase due their capable pockets, the waterwhisperer also saw the son of the owner of The Little Shop of Gears. Making a purchase for his father? He didn't quite remember the young man's name, but it would probably ring a bell if put to his face. He connected the line of his gaze to the mysterious woman for sale. She was fetching to be sure, but she seemed out-of-place in the line. The same went for the young tinkerer.
Jasper decided to watch the situation play-out before him to see what the anomalies would do. He wasn't in a hurry to see Gretchen again anyway.
Oddly enough, reaching the town gave Cyrene a sense of relief. At least here there were other people, other opportunities rather than the simple, brutal, need orientated minds of the slavers. There might just be someone here that could help... Soon enough a young man comes over and Cyrene knows that he's looking at her, although she doesn't lift her eyes to meet him.
A gentle probing of his mind shows that the man feels sorry for her - a better reaction than most.
Agrimar was marched from shop to shop with the others. It was humiliating, being treated like a commodity. However, the mental pro/con list he was making on being sold vs. not being sold was interrupted by a young man inquiring about their price. Agrimar wasn't exactly sure why, but something about him seemed different from the other potential buyers.
Dismissing the slave caravan from his mind, Kurt continues about his chores. After the horses were brushed down and fed and the stalls mucked with fresh bedding laid out he turns his attention to the tack hanging on the racks.
He noticed several items were mud stained and worn.
Must have come in late last night. Ah well, simple enough.
With barely a thought and a simple flick of his wrist he worked one of his simplest spells to clean the tack with nothing more than thought and will.
The Prestidigitation spell brought back memories of his old mentor. As a youth he had thought old Marius taught him his first spell out of the kindness of his own heart. In reality, the old wizard wanted someone else to do the scut work he was responsible for, and the little bastard Tiefling was a perfect tool. At least when he was available, and not under the tender minstrations of the Zon Kuthon torturers for some slight infraction, or as an example to Lord Parthos' rebellious son.
Yet, I hold no ill will for that selfish old wizard. Self serving as it was, he gave me the tools I needed to find my magic, and find my way.
Looking at the now clean tack he idly wonders if he should offer his service to the inn. He could probably make short work of the dishes and enhance the stewpot. Likely get a few extra coins too.
Nah, I prefer it here in the stables. Calm and quiet with the animals.
-Posted with Wayfinder
One of the slave handlers looks Keve over. A fat man wearing an overly tight chain shirt, he sneers at the young man. "Seven hundred for the man, a thousand for the girl," he says.
Having finished his morning tasks Kurt quickly grows bored. He glances at his pack and gear and knows the wanderlust is starting to stir in his soul.
Needing a distraction, he quickly laces up his chainmail reinforced leather jack and belts on his sword and dagger. Again a prepared day is an ordered day, and strolls to the center of town to watch the usual haggling for slaves.
Who knows, maybe something interesting will happen today.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"You know the last caravan were selling theirs at half that price. Must be something really special about yours. I'd have to inspect them closer before telling my father they're worth a closer look." Keve approaches the male first. Doing his best to look as if he is inspecting the man. He grabs him by both wrists and pulls his arms closer. With this opportunity he tries to examine the bindings.
"This one looks a bit scrawny. Do you feed them or must they be sold before they starve? I must admit I don't think my father will be too impressed." He gives his best look of disapproval before moving down to the female. He goes through the same motions as he did with the male, though this time trying to slip something into her palm. A small pick from his thieves tools.
"This girl looks funny. Shouldn't that make her cheaper? It seems our time here has been wasted. Perhaps next time when you have some better product." His heart is racing and his hands start to quiver and voice crack by the end of his sentence. Never before had he taken such a risk in his life.
Keve you are such an idiot you're going to get everyone killed. What are you thinking? Chances are she won't know how to use the damned thing.
Unable to make heads or tails of what the gearsmith's son was doing here, Jasper approached a touch. Maybe he's here to drive down prices. They're a bit small to need additional laborers though. Maybe it's an agreement with another shop...
The locks appear to be of a special design. Keve doesn't even know where to start to give the girl an appropriate tool. He would need a longer look.
The guard replies to the prices though. "Of course, these two are expensive. They're the cream of the crop here. We expect them to go all the way to the capital."
As Kurt approaches the slave market he notices a young man haggling with the slavers.
Is that the boy from the Gear Shop? Maybe.
Kurt had always wanted to check out that shop as engineering had always fascinated him. Yet he hadn't checked it out in his time in this town. He didnt have a reason why. He continued walking towards the market to see what the discussion was about.
He noticed the conversation seemed to be regarding two individuals who looked unusually healthy for slaves, including one strange looking elf.
I wonder if she has some infernal blood like me, or perhaps even celestial? Interesting anyway.
He sidles up within earshot, pretending to look at the various slaves lined up. His curiosity was peaked and he didn't mind eavesdropping.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Keve bids farewell to the slaver disappointed he was unable to help, but relieved nothing bad came of it. He sees the half elf helper watching him intently and makes his way toward him before speaking in a low tone, almost whisper. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me, Jasper. I'm not interested in owning people, nor is my father. I was just... curious." Unsure if he can fully trust Jasper with what he had planned he didn't want to give up too much information. He was a nice young man, but what Keve thought of attempting was highly illegal. Instead, he tries to gauge Jasper's feeling on the subject. "How do you think they end up in that situation? Enslaved I mean."
As he is talking to Jasper he sees the tiefling studying him and his exchange. Their eyes meet for a split second as they catch each other examining the other. Geez, now everyone in town is going to think I'm into buying slaves. I better clear this up now before word gets around
and I have to explain this to my father. After Jasper answers his question he subtly motions for the tiefling to walk over.
We were taken. The voice in Keve's head is quiet, almost as though the wind itself had whispered in his ear. They take the vulnerable and the weak, the ones they think no-one will miss.
Cyrene watched the various buyers carefully, although she did her best to hide her interest. The young man seemed genuine, his thoughts as he examined the manacles were certainly kind, and just about worth taking a chance on.
Kurt is momentarily confused as he sees the young man from the gear shop surreptitiously wave him over.
He can't mean me... right
Glancing back he sees no one else around.
Must mean me
As he walks over he notices the bard from the inn. He had enjoyed his... Kasper? Something like that entertainments a time or two, though he doubted the bard ever noticed him sitting in the common room's darkest corner table.
With a questioning look on his face he approaches the two young men.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Jasper was surprised at the man's approach, yet not afraid of it. "Probably the same way I was - kidnapped at a vulnerable time. Similar band took Brennel and I when we were kids, but we escaped." He nodddd towards the sellers. "They must've stepped-up their efforts. Thise two would be harder than two boys."
The bard smiled. "Nothing wrong with being curious. You haven't struck a conversation with me before. Why now out of all these people?"
Keve jerks his head around searching for the source of the voice before realizing it came from inside his head. Giving a quick look back at the elf and seeing her staring at him he slowly realizes what has happened. Or what he thinks has happened. What is this? Some kind of magic?
Almost forgetting he was mid conversation he turns back to Jasper just as Kurt is arriving. "I... I had no idea Jasper, I'm sorry. I don't understand how anyone could justify that. Men of that nature have no honor."
Turning toward both of them Keve continues, "To answer your question, Jasper, and the reason I called you over here stable hand, is I saw your expressions as I was talking to the slaver. I ensure you both, I have no interest in owning people, and in case word got to your employers, who my father does occasional business with, I would like you to inform them of the same. We do have some reputation to uphold. This is Jasper, by the way, and I'm Keve. He works at the Inn and my father owns the shop down the road."
Being rather blunt Keve asks, "Stable hand, what's your name and how do you feel about those that kidnap people and then sell them to others?"
.
Kurt smiles thinly at the brash youth and his barrage of questions.
"My name is Kurt," he offers a hand to both men. "To answer your question and ease your worries. I do not, myself, approve of the practice of slavery. Yet, as long as it is the law of the land I pass no judgement against those who lawfully practice the custom. Unless..." his normally soft voice takes on a hard edge and his eyes gleam dangerously "the slavers are foolish enough to think a lone tiefling easy prey".
Again
He brightens some, and continues in his soft, measured speech.
"Sadly, there is not much we can do for these lawfully held slaves."
He stops abruptly, realizing this was probably his longest speech in quite some time.
-Posted with Wayfinder
After ahaking hands with Kurt, Jasper knew he'd have to wash his again, but he didn't want to be rude and do it now. Stable hands did dirty but honest work; the entertainer didn't hold it against him.
He inferred Keve really was not happy with people being pawned-off, but the work they'd be used for here was a fate better than many in Cheliax. He must be from another country. Unfortunately, upending the whole of society's practices wasn't easy, and even with his history of capture, Jasper didn't feel particularly-inclinded towards renegade activity.
The bard tilted his head to the side. "I think you misunderstand. You were more interesting to me than they were," clarified the entertainer to Keve. "The woman may be fair, but there's more to a person than their face." Keve was fit and approachable, but it was his character of heart that was more conpelling to Jasper now. He's willing to chance his and his father's security poking around here.
"Can you help us?" comes the quiet voice again, directed to all three young men. "Slaves, we are. Lawfully taken - no. The slave master has no papers, he worries about it at night when his guards are asleep. If he were reported to the authorities then he'd be the one arrested, and he doesn't have the bribe money - not unless he sells some of us first. The man with me will fight if he gets the chance. Please, help us."
Cyrene has outed herself now and she knows it. Freedom is worth the risk though.
Kurt starts as a foreign voice invades his mindspace.
What the heck was that! Telepathy?
He had read about some creatures and magaicians having the ability to communicate only through thought but had never experienced it himself. He did know it was often a tool of his infernal ancestors. Looking again at the strange elf he again wondered if they shared a similar bloodline.
Muttering to the two young men next to him in a low voice.
"Did someone just, uh, speak to you in your... mind? "
Great, I just met these two and they are already going to think I'm a looney, as if my appearance wasn't odd enough.
There was a reason Kurt had been a loner since he was booted from his "family" home, he didn't mind solo travel, but it was embarassing when he was rejected by society due to his heritage. Not that he would ever let that show, of course.
His father's penchant for torture led him to keep nearly all emotion inside, where it was safe.
-Posted with Wayfinder
A relieved look comes across Keve's face as Kurt mentions the voice. "I'm so glad I'm not crazy. I was beginning to wonder if it was just me. But yeah, she's been talking to me. And wants our help." His face starts to get a serious look as he lowers his tone to a whisper. "I know it's a huge risk, but Jasper, what if had been caught? Wouldn't you want someone taking that risk? Kurt, imagine if you were kidnapped and sold just because you were different. It's time to show these men they can't get away with this. And worst case, if we do get caught, we ask them to show us their papers. Without proper documentation they won't be taking this to the authorities. If you two are interested we can head to the shop and make plans. They'll only be here a day so we have to do this tonight. Are you in?"
Keve is assuming Cyrene can listen in and know he is trying to plan something.
Keve was a bit slow on the uptake, but his mind was otherwise occupied at this time, so Jasper didn't feel too bad about it. The brazen suggestions he was making for good causes didn't hurt his appeal, either.
The woman bothered him with the mind-to-mind contact though. While he was stunned at first, the talk from the others made the communication believeable for Jasper. It seemed invasive to him. He'd learned a bit about enchantment and how it affected the mind, but it seemed violating. He did not believe the woman could read his thoughts - at least not on a whim - but it was enough to make him uncomfortable just hearing her in his head. She has good reasons though, and I'd have done the same in her shoes.
Jasper raised an eyebrow with talk of Keve's shop. "The shop? Your dad's in on this?" The bard found that hard to believe. "For now, I'd say having at them here might be difficult. Documents or no, people defend victims in an attack. They'd also not want to venture into the wilderness too far off the path to catch escapees there. That's how I got away"
A thought came to his mind. "Kurt probably has work to do, and so do I. If these people swing by The Rusty Scythe tonight though, maybe I can swipe their keys or delay them."
"Who's to say they haven't tried," hissed Kurt, in responce to Keve's speech, dangerous gleam back in his eyes.
"But your point stands. Your father owns a shop and you have legitimate business in owning slaves. Ask the boss to see these two's papers. If they can not supply legal providence, or try to dissemble the truth then yes, I will assist you in restoring freedom to the unlawfully detained."
In for a penny, in for a pound
In trutg,he knew he was just justifying his actions to bring him into contact with this strange elf. He had never even heard of her like and he was sure she would be a treasure trove of new knowldge, or at least a few new stories.
Plus, getting an in with the bard and the son of the gear shop could lead to new learning as well, in tale and engineering. There fascinating things at that shop he was dying to examine.
Perhaps I am not yet done with this small town.
-Posted with Wayfinder
There's almost a smile on Keve's face a as the excitement starts to swell inside him. The most dangerous thing he had ever taken part in was a few minor explosions from miscalculations of gunpowder. Are we seriously about to do this?
"My father has been quite ill for weeks now, so he hasn't left the house in a while. It's been only me taking on the workload. But I don't want us to attack at all. Hopefully we can do this without any sort of violence, and have them free before the slavers realize they're gone. These slavers know our faces, so we must be discreet. I was thinking we would do this while they slept, where hopefully there was only a single guard to deal with. Following them down the trail until they camped could be risky in itself." Keve has dozens of ideas pass through his head as he talks to Jasper, but all seem to have a weakness. "This won't be easy by any means, and we may have to shed some blood."
He turns to answer Kurt as well, placing a hand on his shoulder. "So you have reason to teach these men a lesson as well? You understand these aren't good people. What they get, they deserve. But to ease your mind I will inquire about the papers beforehand. Perhaps I will have an opportunity to learn a bit more about them as well."
"I'm going to speak with the slavers again. Jasper, could you find out how many of them would be staying at the inn? It could give us an idea how many will be staying overnight with the slaves. Kurt, there is a good chance they'll be using the stables for their cart and horses. If we are lucky they could be trying to leave the slaves there. Let's meet back up at the shop in an hour. It's the only place I trust to be private enough to plan."
Despite her gifts, tracking three conversations at once is still difficult, made worse when the young men retreat further from the slavers and right to the edge of Cyrene's telepathic range. She picks up unease from the blond man, curiosity from the one with the strange skin and sense of satisfaction from the young man with black hair. As he approaches she gleans a little more of the plan - enough to give her hope.
We might get free afterall...
Kurt nods at Keve's plans. If these papers were indeed false, or absent he would have no qualms crossing the slavers.
"If the papers are legit, I will not cross the law of the land, however noble the cause would be." he turns to go.
"But, I will finish my morning tasks and gather my kit. I will also see what information I can get on the caravan. I will meet you at your shop, but I suspect it may take longer than an hour."
He suits action to words, returning to the stables to finish his remaining chores and gather hit kit.
He also checks for the caravan's horses/wagons and inquires with the stablekeeper if he is to expect them this evening so he can prepare extra food and bedding for the influx of animals.
-Posted with Wayfinder
As you're talking among yourselves, you notice one of the caravan leaders talking to the guard that Keve talked to about slave prices. The leader is a hard faced elf with jet black hair dyed red at the edges. He wears a suit of scale armor and carries a longsword at his belt. You decide to split up before he takes notice of your little meeting.
You go about the rest of the day as normal, your guts tightening as dusk approaches. Jasper finds out that most of the guards are staying at his inn, but there is a contingent of two guards to be posted tonight.
It is now after nightfall. Jasper has retired from entertainingvfor the night and Kurt has finished his stable work. Keve puts his father to bed and cleans off one of the work tables for the makeshift party.
Finishing his (probably final) daily tasks Kurt quickly packs his meager belongings. Making sure his kit wad in his backpack, daggers and longsword handy on the belt. He ties his bolts and crossbow on his pack, rolls his bedroll and starts to the gear shop.
He wanted to be ready to leave immediately if things go south, and he could always leave most of his pack at the shop.
Taking a deep breath and controlling his excitement with a stern mental excercise he moves through the night.
Arriving at the store he knocks softly before letting himself in, firmly controlling his wonderment at finally entering this fascinating shop.
"For good or for ill, I am here."
-Posted with Wayfinder
"I'm glad you've decided to join. Let's hope none of us regret the decisions we made. As soon as Jasper gets here we will go over the plan and head that way. I hope it is not needed, but I trust you have a means of defending yourself?" As Keve greets Kurt he begins gathering supplies laid out on the table. All that is left is a crude drawing of the stable and a candle. "We can either wait for the guards to lose focus, which may never happen, or create a distraction that will give us enough time to release the slaves. I think it best to release them all so it looks more like an escape than a break out. But just in case we are seen I stitched these masks and cloaks. This is the sigil of a semi local freedom fighters guild, so we can blame this on them. " He hands Kurt a mask and cloak after showing him the symbol, and sets the other on the table for Jasper.
Kurt looks at the mask with distaste. He had spent too much time with the priests of Zon Kuthon to have much stomach for dissembly, yet this was a task for masking ones identify. Steeling himself he takes the proffered items.
Responding to Keve, "I agree, striking late while the guards are tired is the best bet. Distracting our true goal by freeing all the slaves seems expedient, yet I do not wish a moral obligation for their subsequent health. Though, if we unleash them and leave, any further action is their own choice, so I suppose that clears us. As to defense..."
He pats the longsword at his hip, "I am proficient with blade, bow and spell. Should things turn... ugly... I can hold my own."
He still didn't feel terribly comfortable breaking accepted customs to help these strangers. What good was a society without order? Yet, something in his soul told him he was doing the right thing. Maybe his conscience, maybe that voice that invaded his head. He was unsure.
If only I wasn't so excited. I must have stayed in this sleepy town too long. Either way it seems I'll be moving on soon.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"I'm wondering if there is a way to ensure the guards will sleep. Maybe get Jasper to bring them some ale and say it's from the inn. We could always spike it with something to make sure. I'd like this plan to have as many failsafes as possible. This is our home. The last thing we want is this to come back to us." Keve begins rummaging around the shop looking for anything that may help with their plans.
Keve quickly comes across the medicine he uses to put his father to sleep on the nights when the pain is greatest. It would only take two doses to put the two guards to sleep, but the medicine isn't cheap.
Keve prepares two waterskins with ale and the medicine in preparation. "These are my father's meds, so after this is all over our number one priority is replacing them. The slaves can hide out in our basement until this all blows over. They're going to expect them to scatter so I doubt they think to look within the city for any runaways." As he gathers the remaining supplies that are needed Keve and Kurt wait eagerly for Jasper's arrival. "Thank you for doing this, Kurt. I know you don't know me, but I owe you huge for doing this with me. As soon as Jasper arrives we head to the stables and wait for them to pass out from this." He shakes the medicine bottle. "Then get to work releasing them. I'll pick the locks if you can explain to the slaves what's going on. The elf and her companion can stay, but I need you to tell the rest of them to scatter. Never remove the mask. You can't trust the slaves not to identify you either." Keve puts out the candles inside as him and Kurt wait right inside the doorway on Jasper to return from his duties.
Hearing a pair of guards was absent at the inn tonight, Jasper put on a more reserved performance than usual.
He told his stories about local myths and legends, yet the entertainer did not invoke his usual arcane flare to add to the effect as much. Some prestidigitation here and there was it. Once the patrons had left for the night - either to their homes or their rooms - he snagged some heels of bread and half-drank tankards of ale and made for the workshop.
Still dressed in his entertaining clothes, Jasper's crimson pants and goldenrod vest were easy enough to spot, though they wouldn't be well-known to those from out-of-town. "Ah, with all these shadows and secrecy, Norgorber himself might pay us a visit tonight!" Jasper jested as he was met by Keve at his shop. Kurt had already arrived.
"I can put on a bit more of a show than I did for the patrons tonight, and soldiers never turn down free food, but you'll have to get them out. No keys from the ones at the tavern. I bet the pair remaining have them." He snickered at the masks. "I'd look suspicious if I was to perform for them in that! They should be busy long enough for you to open the shackles and get them walking - if you know what you're doing." For all his confidence, Jasper didn't really know what he was doing himself. He did, however, have confidence his show would be good.
"I'm only worried they suspect you as part of the ploy if you stick around too long after delivering the goods. Once you notice them feeling the effects of the medicine you get out there and get to the inn as soon as possible. You need a solid alibi during their escape. If anything goes wrong before that time, slip on that mask for any other witnesses. If we are ready, let's go." Keve says with a slight nod, his heart racing and mind running through hundreds of ways this could go wrong. "If all goes according to plan we meet at the shop tomorrow at midnight. If it goes terribly wrong we meet three miles east at my aunt's farm, the Skank ranch. There's a sign at the front of the main drive. I already sent a message that she may be expecting a few visitors and that they don't wish to be announced. She won't ask questions until I get there, don't worry."
Kurt nods to Jasper and Keve.
"We have a plan then". Donning his mask and cloak he prepares himself for this night. Leaving his pack by the door, he would make do with blades and crossbow tonight, better to move light and fast.
And my spellbook, can't forget that. Though if all goes well I shall need none of it tonight.
-Posted with Wayfinder
There are about 30 slaves lying in the dirt. They are shackled individually at the hands, but a long, manacles chain hilds their ankles together and insures that they don't get more than a few feet apart from each other. The guards are sitting by a campfire and are only watching their charges half-heartedly.
Kurt watches the guards from a safe distance in the deepest shadows he could find. His infernal heritage gave him superb night vision, so ambient light meant little to him.
As he waits for Jasper to make his play he holds his longsword and waits, mentally running through the words of his combat magic.
Suddenly he has a thought, long shot likely but it might work. Thinking as loudly and clearly as possible he attempts to transmit a message.
"Mysterious voice in my head: we are here to help. If all goes well we will get you out momentarily. Any help you can give will only make this easier."
Feeling slightly foolish, Kurt settles in to wait.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"You're up Jasper. Just give them the waterskins, do a little jig till they're asleep, then give us the signal. If possible you can search them for a key. Thirty slaves are too many to free their hands by picking the locks. Kurt, if you can free their feet I'll pick the locks if need be on the elf and her friend. Once that's done we can leave the keys with the slaves if we obtained them, or they'll have to run shackled. Hopefully they get the full night as a head start. Any questions or suggestions?" Keve whispers to the two as they watch from a distance as he begins looking at the slaves for the elf.
Grabbing the supplies for their shady business, Jasper made his way to the pair of watchers. It was unsettling for him to be around the bound folks, for they reminded him of his past. Serves them right, he thought about the guards as he approached them with a smile.
"You there! Your friends in the inn had such a wonderful time, they couldn't let you be left completely out of it. This bread and ale's for you, and I've been requested to tell you a tale and pass the time!"
Jasper knew many tales, but he took one that he used to clear out rooms of unsavory folk - or put them asleep.
"Once upon a time, there was a dour dwarf named Durk. Durk didn't have many friends, but he liked to drink. Don't we all? Heh, normally I'd have a bit to cheers to you with, but I only have an empty cup out here. How 'bout we fix that?" Jasper hefted his mug of air and conjured water into it, tame for his talents but alluring enough when unexpected. The cantrip was positioned high above the mug to fall into it with a gaudy trickle.
"Now, in this story, when Durk drinks, we have to too. To too? Two too!" he confirmed with a laugh. "Keeps the story saucy, you know? Anyway, Durk dwelled in a dark, dank dungeon of a home. He wasn't the best smith, but Torag strike me if he wasn't the best digger. Dig dig dig! That's what Durk did. Dig dig dig!" The bard gestured towards the ground with his hands at each shoveling syllable. "Problem was, Durk dug down deep enough to wear himself out all by himself. When dwarves are worn-out, they like to drink -
and that's exactly what Durk did down in the dark, dank dungeon dent he dug deep. Let's take a drink as deep as he dug! Drink!" Jasper took a swig, gesturing for the men to join him. "He knew he'd need more people to help him dig faster, so he went into town."
"Who wants to dig with the best digger?!" asked Durk. But even by Dwarf standards he was small. "You'd need to be a bigger digger!" said the passers-by, leaving him alone. Dwarves drink when they're lonely, and Durk drank deeply again." The entertainer took another sip in tandem with the guards. "All but one, that is, at last. "My machine can help you! All you have to do is pull the trigger! No need to be bigger!" Turns out, there was a gnome among the dwarves by the name of Dink. Dink had a magical pickaxe with a knob to pull on the end. Each time, the pickaxe would swing itself and cleave off a huge chunk of rock! "My beard," said Durk, "What a device! What do you want for it?"
Jasper approached the men a bit and lowered his stature and raised the pitch of his voice for Dink. "A thousand gold!" said Dink. Durk wasn't pleased. [b]"That's more than I have, but I'll challenge you for it. A drinking contest!" Dink was clever, gnomes as they are, and he accepted what many would consider a sure loss. "Deal!" said Dink. It wasn't long before they were in the tavern."
The local tavernkeep, Dagmar, watched the show. "First one under is done! Dink gets Durk's diamond dust deposits if he wins. Durk gets Dink's device if he wins. Ready? Go!" Each diminutive denizen drank their first drink!" The watersinger made sure to copy the act. "Then they drank again!" So did he. "And again!" Once again. "But after their third ale, they were none more pale or ready to fail. Durk hefted another mug, ready to do work. Dink raised his own drink, to compete he would think, when the inn went dark..."