"So the original guard is now to be a prisoner?"
'I can do that.'
Darius nodded softly and set about stowing his gear, and that of the other prisoners in a quick draw manner, allowing weapons to be easily visible and removable.
"I'm not sure who said you were to be a guard Bones, but I am the one assigned the papers to get us in and I think it makes more sense to let the archer and druid be my extra guards for reasons each of them have already stated. If it wounds your pride to be a pretend prisoner than perhaps you can sit out here and await our return"
Looking at the Paladin Darius frowns. "We can not afford to leave Bones here, you know that. Stop your foolish Paladin pride and lets just work this out Vorik. We are running with your plan, we just need to tweak it a little!
Bones is visibly irritated at the thought of being a prisoner. "It was my idea to take you in as prisoners, even though you having papers does have some weight that it was the boss's idea, for you to be the main guard. I would like to know how you expect to hide my weapons though, and leaving them out here is not an option."
diplomacy check to remind and convince Vorik about me being a guard
"This isn't foolish Paladin pride, though it seems Bones is too prideful to be a prisoner, this is the experience of having worked many mercenary missions with House Deneith. Loche can't be a prisoner due to his rather large beetle. He was right before, if he was a target of mine, I would have made sure to have killed the beetle, since I know it's a strong ally. Desh can either be prisoner or guard, it doesn't really matter. Instead of giving up your bow and weapon, I will wear them, and stow mine. Same can be said for Bones and his weapons. We're wasting time squabbling like maids over some handsome young man.
Bones angrily addresses Vorik"Fine you can pretend my weapons are your own."
"Vorik, do you have papers to get us back out? Breaking out of prison is supposed to be the hard part."
Darius laughed softly and grinned up at the Paladin. "Handsome young man? Well aren't you the charmer? Sorry boss... You ain't my type!" winking at the, now surely highly uncomfortable and confused Paladin, Darius took a step towards the Druid, holding his wrists out for the man to bind.
"Lets be honest here... I ain't gonna be believed as a Guard so lets just tie me the hells up and the rest of you can decide what to do after that. Savvy?"
"I'm sure me and our Monk friend here can clear a path out quietly enough for us all. All the rest of you need do is wait and see if it goes pear shaped!"
Desh, annoyed at the exchange, begins removing his weapons and armor, "I will go in as a prisoner. There's probably not a lot of room for archery in there, anyway. And if the prisoners get separated from the guards, that means me and Darius here have some skills in common... i can be sneaky as well." He locks eyes with the strange paladin, "I would appreciate if you carried my bow... treat her well, please."
Once all but a dagger is removed, he holds it up for Darius, "Mind helping me hide this somewhere on me? It's not something I'm used to doing."
Sighing, Darius pulled his Violin from his back and began to play softly for a second, plucking the strings with his fingers rather than using the bow. Sighing softly he moved to the Druid and handed him the instrument. "Mind her for me?"
"Sure. You'll feel where its hidden but damned if anyone will see it!" he laughed and stepped forward, taking the knife from Desh before moving to place it.
Dakvor watches silently the lively exchange of the group. He was reminded of one of those town council meetings Aznak made him attend in one of their travels "to broaden his horizon and see beyond the walls of the monastery's people". Well that experience is helping him see beyond the "bickerings" now as others might call them and is making him appreciate the vigorous effort of the group to fullfill their mission. And that's good enough for him.
"I am well and ready to be a prisoner,"Dakvor said in between a short pause of the conversation. "The rest you can safekeep for later use if possible when we get inside." He, then offers his hand for binding like Darius, with a cool confidence that hints the young half-orc monk could handle himself even with just his bare hands.
The tall human shakes his head when Bones asks about his papers "No, my papers get us in. While breaking out is a lot harder, sneaking in unwanted is also pretty nigh impossible. At least this way we get in easy."
As Desh hands him his bow, Vorik replies "Worry not about your bow, I shall care for it. I understand well the bond between warrior and weapon and have no desire to break or even bend such tween you and your bow. That said, he carefully slings the bow over his shoulder, making sure to leave easy access to his own longsword.
Sighing, Darius pulled his Violin from his back and began to play softly for a second, plucking the strings with his fingers rather than using the bow. Sighing softly he moved to the Druid and handed him the instrument. "Mind her for me?"
'After that bit of playing, I'm sure that I'd be doing us a favour if I gave this thing away to any street urchin that I might find to adopt it into a good home.'
Begrudingly, Bones removes any gear that needs to be removed. "If I live through this I will never go into another mission without a plan again. I am going to have a long talk with whoever hired me out for this mission also."
Dakvor heard Bones' grumble and felt the same feeling keenly.
"I hear you there, Bones,"the half-orc monk said as he graciously helped the dwarf stow his gear with care so as to assuage the simmering dwarf. He just realized that the dwarf nailed correctly the main source of their woes and raised his voice for everyone to hear but still addressing Bones,"I don't give a damn anymore what I was told but I gather we are all referring to the same employer. And you're right, Bones. This damn employer has a lot of explaining to do. But the wind of fate has brought us together it seems and since this is the way it is and we are agreed on "rescuing" this prisoner, I must but rely on you all to get out of here unscathed." "As you could rely on me to help you all get out safely as well," Dakvor wanted to say but kept it to himself as he did not want to force everyone to commit to something he could obviously observe will not be given. He hoped that by at least making himself "vulnerable" as it were to everyone and venting everyone's irritation to a common one --- their "employer", he could at least lessen the tension in the group.
"I would rather you didn't but yes I can see how you would think that!" Darius nodded his head softly towards the Druid.
Darius smiled serenely, listening to the conversation between the Orc and Dwarf. He did not understand why they were having such a bad time, with such interesting adventure happening all around them. They were about to break in to the worlds greatest Prison. How could ANYONE not be excited? Shaking his head softly Darius began to mentally prepare himself for the worst to come, all the while grinning from ear to ear.
speaking to Dakvor
"I am actually a mercenary for House Deneith who approved of me for someone else's mission. Considering missions are supposed to be screened first or so I thought, my first beef is with them, not that the mysterious benefactor won't be having to answer a few questions also."
"We all do what we must to survive. Whether it be the great Roc that spends weeks traveling across the world to find Mamoths to feed its young or the tiny dung beetle that gathers up balls of spoor to bury and feed a new generation."
"Complain or take joy. It makes no difference. Without work and effort this generation dies off and provides the matter to feed another generation that will work hard to feed its young."
"Speaking of work, we should be about our own, here. We can not go long ignored, even, with this fog and weather. This place is too large to go long without dozens of merchants passing by with goods and I'm sure we are likely not the only people with prisoners to deliver this day."
"Finally some sense. So... Someone punch me!" standing, his hands bound before him, Darius looks first to the fighter then to the Druid. "Come on gents I doubt his holyness will do it. Gotta look a little roughed up don't I?"
As Darius asks to be punched, then makes the comment about "his holyness", Vorik obliges by punching him in the gut. "What was that about holyness and being unable to do something?"
Hunched over, rubbing his stomach with his bound wrists, Darius laughs softly. "Guess I was wrong about you... Sorry Boss! Standing, Darius grins. "No more 'his holyness' jokes from me!"
Happy to be named a guard again, Bones reequips himself.
"Don't you worry boys I will keep ya safe." I will need someone to start my own adventuring group with. We shall be called Bone's Brigands."
As to the matter of the guards, I will let His Holiness(another joke), do the talking since he has the papers and people tend to get upset when I talk sometimes.
"His Holiness failed you. You can't looked roughed up with a punch to the the stomach. You have to be punched in the face."
With that said Bones punches Darius in the face, trying to do just enough damage to leave a bruise
edit:Capitalize His Holiness since it is now a name. :) I will do the same for my other posts also.
Stumbling backwards and falling onto his ass, Darius forces a yawn, working his jaw a little to make sure nothing is broken or loose. "Surprised you could reach my face from there Dwarf. Bloody good shot!" Laughing softly Darius holds his bound wrists out towards the fighter. "Pity on a poor broken Elf sir? A lift to my feet perhaps?"
The rain continues to come down around you in frigid drops. Shivers creep up and down your spines. The moons are three quarters of the way to their zeniths, and the last hours of day are fast approaching.
Bones helps Darius to his feet
With a smile on his face Bones replies, "You took it well." "Enough playing around though. It is about time we get to the task at hand."
"Indeed. We should be going, to be sure. Well... Drag the way!" grinning Darius indicates one of the three guards to start moving before his face slides to a somber, almost scared expression.
After Dakvor’s conversation with the dwarf and the subsequent verbal and non-verbal exchange of the group centering on the carefree elf, he realizes that the group is slowly bonding in an odd way not unlike the ones you sometimes get after a drunken brawl in a tavern. He remembers well how his stepfather exposed him to all kinds of seedy taverns in Sharn particularly the ones in Cliffside where he sometimes gets unwittingly in a fight due to either a prejudice to his race or just a mere accidental meeting of stare with some drunk spoiling for a fight. The odd thing he experienced then was how most of the time after the brawl and it was still early enough (and not much was broken in the tavern) and all have sobered up, that all combatants could share a table and drink like crazy (again) as if they had been friends since childhood.
Dakvor smiles at those memories. And looking back at that puts the present situation in their proper perspective for the young half-orc monk. A Cliffside party, then.
”Wait!’, he said with a grin to Darius. ”Don’t think you’re the only who should wear a ‘badge’ like that on the face.”
Dakvor offers his right face to the elf, the side without his protruding lower fang. ”I’m a prisoner, too. Take your shot here so you won’t bruise your hand much and so you can still play that violin of yours. My left fang tends to wound without meaning to, you know. Be quick about it, though as we’ve tarried enough.”
Laughing softly Darius drew back with both bound fists and swung them hard into the half orcs face. "No need to pretend it hurt too much my friend, I know I am not the strongest of us!" Grinning Darius offered Dakvor his hand to shake.
"Lets go before one of us gets the chill!"
Once all the hitting is over with, Vorik checks over the group and asks if they need any last minute preparations "Once we go in, it's going to take some time to get back out. So if there's anything any of you feel you need to do before going in, take the time to do so right now. Otherwise, we go in and may the gods watch over us and grant us the success we seek"
Desh watches all the hitting, a 'is that really necessary'' look painted on his features.
Vorik's reminder about the chances of getting a break soon brings him out of his quiet and he steps away from the group struggling with his bonds. The sound of waterfall intensifies where he stands by a tree. After a surprisingly long time, the sound subsides and the shifter returns, struggling to get his pants re-tied, "Ready to go when yall are."
Though the elf's two-fist strike is far from what Dakvor receives from his fellow monk students or his teacher in their sparring sessions, he felt and surmised it was strong enough to leave a passable bruise on his face.
He shook the elf's offered hand and grinned back as he touched his face softly where Darius punched him. "Nicely done, actually. You may be right about your strength but your stealth is I would say, unearthly. I tried to pick out your return from your scouting but I failed. I'd like very much to learn a trick or two from you on that if it's ok with you. And I understand, of course, if you don't want to."
The half-orc laughed softly then and said, "Besides I could always watch and learn anyway while we're together."
Then turning towards the 'guards' and addressing the druid with a neutral face, "Ok sergeant! Your prisoners I believe are ready to meekly partake and do their humble part in the great circle of life of this natural world."
Loche takes the lead of the line and ties it lightly to the back knob of the stag beetle's left mandible. He then climbs aboard the beetle.
'Mind you keep up. You tug to hard on his mandible and he's like to turn around and spit upon you. If he spits upon you, those future bruises will look like love taps from your future cell mates. Don't ever think this here companion is some tame horse. He's fully wild and natural. For a beetle, he's bright but even the dumbest dog would be a math wizard compared to him. If you anger him, I might be able to get him to stop chomping on your bones and I might not. You've been warned.'
Loche, having said his peace, taps the beetle twice with the handle of his scythe to start it walking towards the gate with the prisoners in tow.
Loche, atop his monstrous beetle companion, begins to lead you down the hill. Across the valley the iron gates of Dreadhold are now visible, despite the chilling rain. As you make your way done, you find a trail that makes approaching the gates easier. This trail is not very wide, and it is immediately obvious that inmates are not often delivered via the back entrance of the prison. Some explanations may be needed if your approach is spotted. Further ahead, you can see another trail connects with the gates, this one leading from the small harbor. This is probably the primary path used by the employees of Dreadhold. Keeping these observations in mind, you continue to descend into the valley, and towards the world's most notorious fortress.
Loche continues the march to the gate where he sits looking bored on the beetle while the other guards do the talking.
If any of the prisoners get lippy then he'll smack them with the handle of the scythe and then haul them back to their feet with the blade held to their neck.
As the group walked towards the mist-shrouded prison, Dakvor took the opportunity to observe Darius's walk while keeping up with the unnatural multi-legged gait of the druid's mount. The discipline he acquired from the monastery of always learning new things and constantly improving himself kicked in again almost instinctively. The extra unbalancing tugs of the towing rope on his bounded hand also serve as a counterpoint to his present "lesson".
He actually felt like meditating in a way. A fitting lull for the young half-orc monk as their mission finally starts.
Doing the exact opposite of trying to be stealthy.
Making sure the guards can clearly see us approaching.
Attitude shown is bored and routine.
Acting stealthy, looking like we were gawking like tourists, or looking like we were scared of the guards would just get their suspicions up.
Nope, this just a routine march of prisoners to a routine gate delivery. Acting like this is the tenth time this month I've done the same thing.
I want to be the 7,486 shopper that the Wal-mart employee has seen that month. Just another number in the crowd identical souls working crummy hours for worse pay.
The only bit of joy I get is being slightly vindictive to my prisoners and getting a chance to bully them before I have to go home and get bullied by the wife.