At Grumblejack's question, Wesh wonders, Does he always talk about himself in the third person?
Wesh glances over at the pair of guards that they had recently felled. Perhaps Wesh only needed to keep one intact to make his point to the Mitrans. Grumblejack could be a useful ally if they could keep him alive and in good shape.
The fighter points over at one of the bodies and says to Grumblejack, "You can eat one of them, if you're not too choosy about your meat. Leave one, though. I want to send a message to our captors or anyone else who may find the bodies."
"Healing potions! Shall we give one to our new large friend and one to Demlin? She appears ready to fall over and that just won't do at all if we are all to escape now will it?"
"Grumblejack okay with that." Grumblejack then wanders over to one of the dead guards and begins munching away.
"Eat quickly then, there'll be no dragging it with us. A trail of gore and splatter will attract unwanted attention. Even those wanting a slaughterhouse would likely prefer the fights on our terms."
Wesh smiles as the ogre wanders over to the dead guard's body. At least the man would serve a good purpose in death.
At Amalrus's words, Wesh says, "I'm fine with that distribution. But we shouldn't linger here. This prison is a big place. And we'll probably have to explore most of it to find a viable way out."
In a matter of a few minutes, Grumblejack has consumed the entire corpse, save the bones. It really is quite impressive how quickly he could make an adult human body disappear.
Demlin takes and drinks one of the potions, feeling its healing magics flow through her and fix her wounds up. Now she has only blood-stained clothing, and her strength is fully restored.
Hel nods with approval in regards to the distribution of the healing potions; it is, after all, what she suggested earlier. "There's only one viable way out," she states to Wesh, "and that's the front gate." She gestures with her head, and walks back to the guard room - though when Grumblejack returns and starts consuming the guard right then and there, she does turn green around the gills, barely managing to step into the room they'd attacked from before losing her lunch (well, her bile) across the table there.
Without turning back around, Hel calls from where she's bent over, "Could you take that into the next room, please, Grumblejack?"
Presuming he does so, she wipes her mouth on her sleeve, then walks to where the sack with the clothing was placed, averting her gaze if necessary from the casual - or rather, eager and rapid!! - consumption of another human, however fallen from the heights of Azlant. Retrieving her clothing, she removes the tatters of her golden velvet skirt, then uses it to finish cleaning off her mouth, then wipes off the table. Tossing it into the corner, she then lays out the other clothing and changes into it as quickly as she can, wincing at the lingering sting of the freshly-wounded and infernally-healed thigh wound.
Clothing changed, Hel emerges once again, moving to the table-sized sketch. "All right. I felt heat coming up the flue, so there's at least a small fire in the fireplace downstairs. I also heard some voices - maybe three, but I think only two - down there as well. I suggest we seize this building first before we try to expand our activities; like I said, this --" and here she taps on the causeway leading to the mainland "-- is realistically our only way out, because one of the reasons Castle Branding worked so well as a castle, and probably the reason nobody's escaped from this place since, is because everywhere else around the castle is rocky shoals and rocky shore. I don't know about you, but I'd rather go six-on-two or -three with the guards before going one-on-one with the ocean riptides. If," she admits, "we can manage to get it and keep it to six-on-two or -three."
Galen grimly nods "I suppose it's the only way out of the situation. We'd be foolish to not expect a few unknown obstacles on the way out regardless of which way we go but there's little we can do about that other than keep out wits about us. Give our new associate just a little longer but lets not tarry too long."
Wesh looks at Hel with an expressionless face. As calmly as he can, he says to the monk, "We shouldn't assume that the causeway is our only way out. This prison is a big place and there could be many places in it that aren't marked on maps. We aren't going to make it out of this place alive by being unwilling to think outside the box.
"Perhaps the causeway will prove the only way out, but I'm not willing to accept that. Not yet, at least. Have an open mind. Asmodeus gave us a second chance. We need to make the most of it. That means considering all possibilities."
"So... shall I lead some guards back up here as Blackerly or are we just going to walk about with no safe place danger round every corner?
I'm up for anything considering we're all getting a second chance here". Amalrus once more grins with a distant look in his eye as he speaks.
The noblewoman considers the map as well as the Asmodean armsman's words, then nods, an abstract expression on her face. "True, my information is at least a dozen years out of date; adding a postern from one of the back towers would be possible, and stairs down to the water and a dock for seagoing arrivals would be even easier. It might not be especially safe," she judges, "but I doubt that'd be too much of a concern. Good point; something I need to try to keep in mind.
"Still -- are we going to go downstairs and make sure we've cleared this place, or try going up through the chimney to the roof?" She shrugs, glancing towards the bow waiting for her. "Unarmed, it took us a minute; armed, I should think we might dispose of the opposition rather more quickly, but I am not," she admits, "by any stretch of the imagination qualified with tactics."
Glancing at Amalrus, she asks, "Is this something you can do several times, or for several minutes, or is it a one-time or short-term deal? If it's the latter, I think we should probably hold off on using that unless it's ... more of an emergency."
Grumblejack sniffs the proffered vial before pouring the tiny amount of liquid into his mouth and swallowing.
The healing magics flow over him, and his eyes bulge at its effects. "Little 'uns have magic! Magic heal Grumblejack, make pain go away," he exclaims, his voice a mixture of awe and a little fear. You suspect that by healing him slightly, he will be much more amenable to commands in battle - although you probably shouldn't let him get too bored. He is an ogre, after all.
"We do Grumblejack. We should press forward. It will be some time before the next shift shows up but I'd feel more comfortable if we start covering some ground. We keep our eyes and ears open for other opportunities and resources but outside of uncovering new information then we start moving towards the front gate. Many different things could happen between here and there but my gut tells me we get underway."
Adjusting the armor a final time he looks at Wesh "The two of us up front, we round the corners first and with luck we'll get to catch some of our jailers off guard."
Amalrus nods to Hel, "A few or more minutes are all I can achieve right now. Perhaps I should be at the lead, ready to change my appearance to throw the guards off as we first encounter them in the halls and lead them into ambush. That is of course if the consensus is to go now".
Hel nods at Amalrus. "Maybe save it for an emergency. Can you do the voice too?"
She glances over at Sir Gallen. "Perhaps we have a scout among us," and here she nods towards Demlin, "to be able to examine the terrain before the battalion marches in. Or are you as stealthy as you are militant?
"I also think that ... being careful about what's behind us might prove wise as well, instead of marching straight for the gate. As Master Wesh points out, we need to consider all the possibilities. That means getting information, good and current information, before we go moving much at all, especially towards the front gate, yes? Why don't we go ask the people in the kitchen downstairs?"
Wesh nods in agreement with the general sentiment of the group.
He says, "I'm fine with leading the way if we're not going to try imitating Blackerly right away."
Wesh glances over at Grumblejack and the skeletal remains of one of the guards as he says, "The kitchen sounds like a good place to start. Perhaps we can also find food there that is suitable for all of us."
Hel nods in firm agreement with that sentiment. "And maybe a bit of water to wash up with," she adds under her breath.
Rigel watches with a mixture of trepidation and awe as the ogre 'disposes' of the bodies. "Well, gracious to goodness!"
She listens in on the conversation, but doesn't have much to offer from a tactical standpoint. Besides, she's basically out of spells for the day now and reliant on other means.
Feeling much better and glad that her face is no longer smashed Demlin agrees to scout ahead.
The group descends the stairs, Demlin in the lead, listening ahead. The stairs come down and end in an enclosed room with a door that is also closed. Listening at the door, Demlin hears voices talking. She can't tell how many, but they don't seem alarmed at all.
After learning about the voices, Wesh says, "Sounds like we can take them by surprise. I'm a bit concerned about the number present, but we're also much better equipped than we were before. We could use Amalrus's skills in this situation, but we might want to save that for later. I'm all for rushing them, if the rest of you agree. My stomach's starting to rumble, so the sooner we get decent food the better."
"It might be best to hold back such precious resources as the magic at our disposal. Wesh and myself tie up our foes as best we can. Everyone else could harass and take opportunities as they arrise. It might take Grumblejack a moment to duck through the door so him coming through last leaves him less vulnerable. If any yet survive Grumblejacks forms lumbering towards them may break their morale so be prepared for runners. If our ranged elements could prioritise anyone with or near a signal horn it would be appreciated."
Gallen readies his new blade but looks to see if anyone wants to adapt the plan or suggest an alternate approach.
Hel nods her head for those ahead of her to proceed; if she was to be completely honest, the back of her neck is itching to have Grumblejack immediately behind her. It isn't that she doesn't trust the ogre, it's just that ... she doesn't trust the ogre. Well, the facts will out -- eventually.
Grumblejack leans over and whispers, "We smash blue little 'uns now?" His whisper is actually reasonably quiet - for an ogre, anyway. The closed door would have ensured no one outside could hear him unless they were listening at it.
Gallen nods and gets ready to charge through the door and strike down the guards.
Wesh moves up behind Sir Gallen and prepares to follow after him. Now that the fighter finally has a proper weapon, he's especially looking forward to the bloodshed.
Wesh nods back at Sir Gallen, indicating he's ready to begin the attack.
Picking up one of the discarded daggers, Rigel carefully tests its edge before sidling out of the way of the frontliners. At least she's not defenceless; but hopefully it won't be needed. The people she's with seem very competent.
Hel holds a pair of fingers in front of her lips while glancing at the ogre. In a low murmur she answers, "If they are there to smash. But we want to take out the guards - your 'blue little ones' - as swiftly and silently as possible, so we don't have to fight all of them at once, and die because there are too many of them and too few of us."
After a moment to allow Rigel and Amalrus to finish moving down the stairs, she finishes descending and eases to the side to give herself a hopefully straight shot through the door ahead and into anyone who might ... be a danger to them.
Amalrus clutches his dagger and nods in readiness after all he's not the one taking the risk in this plan. He knows his time will come where he can shine but this isn't it.
Demlin pulls open the door for the group to reveal two guards in the hallway, looking bored as they talk to each other. They stand on opposite sides of the hall. They turn to look as the door opens and at first only seem to register the guard uniform worn by Gallen.
Gallen moved swiftly through the door hoping to strike the man down swiftly, no need to pointlessly draw things out. But he put two much force into the blow, over eager in his assault allowing the surprised man enough time to bring his shield up. No quick end for this one then!
Wesh silently breathes a sigh of relief that the hallway only contains two guards. He moves up to face the two, but isn't able to get a swing of his sword in just yet.
Without the skill necessary to take such a risky shot, Hel isn't willing to fire past Wesh and Sir Gallen; she too moves forward as the other two do, sliding sideways once she's through the door - either to keep her shot clean or to get a look at first one, then the other guard.
Rigel utters a quick prayer to Asmodeus, asking him to guide Wesh's strike against the do-gooders.
Amalrus casts Mage Hand and attempts to lift one of the guards' weapons right out of their scabbards and throws it as far as it will go.
With the door open, Amalrus casts mage hand and pulls one of the guard's swords out of its scabbard, and throws it away from him.
Wesh silently breathes a sigh of relief that the hallway only contains two guards. He moves up to face the two, but isn't able to get a swing of his sword in just yet.
Grumblejack grins and moves past everyone to bowl his way into the room, saying, "Grumblejack gonna beat you now."
Without the skill necessary to take such a risky shot, Hel isn't willing to fire past Wesh and Sir Gallen; she too moves forward as the other two do, sliding sideways once she's through the door - either to keep her shot clean or to get a look at first one, then the other guard.
Rigel utters a quick prayer to Asmodeus, asking him to guide Wesh's strike against the do-gooders.
Demlin moved into the room, dagger out.
Gallen moved swiftly through the door hoping to strike the man down swiftly, no need to pointlessly draw things out. But he put two much force into the blow, over eager in his assault allowing the surprised man enough time to bring his shield up. No quick end for this one then!
Wesh isn't going to let Sir Gallen get to do all the bloodshedding. When the opportunity comes, the fighter steps up beside the antipaladin and focuses his attack on the leftmost guard.
"Asmodeus's judgment is upon you," Wesh says as he begins swinging his longsword.
Whether it was Asmodeus's blessing through Rigel, Wesh's bloodlust, or pure chance, his blow lands with perfect precision, slicing into the guard.
With Grumblejack squeezing through the door and starting to lumber up from behind, Hel skitters forward to keeping ahead of the ogre; it's almost as if she doesn't quite trust him at her back which, to be honest, is a hundred and ten percent absolutely true. It keeps her ahead of Wesh as well, sending her past the guard before he can get his sword out - but then the warrior demonstrates upon the guard why he does what he does, and narrows the noblewoman's practical choice of targets from two to one. Her skirts flare as she spins in her movement forward, lifting her foot to strike at the guard on the right side of the hall.
Grinning With the success of the Mage Hand in relieving the guard of a sword, he does the exact same thing but this time with the horn and this time, he brings it into his own eager hands.
Grinning With the success of the Mage Hand in relieving the guard of a sword, he does the exact same thing but this time with the horn and this time, he brings it into his own eager hands. The horn floats away from the guard and moves towards Amalrus.
Wesh isn't going to let Sir Gallen get to do all the bloodshedding. When the opportunity comes, the fighter steps up beside the antipaladin and focuses his attack on the leftmost guard. "Asmodeus's judgment is upon you," Wesh says as he begins swinging his longsword. Whether it was Asmodeus's blessing through Rigel, Wesh's bloodlust, or pure chance, his blow lands with perfect precision, slicing into the guard. The guard's blood spurts from a gaping wound across the midsection, as the other struggles to remain on his feet. He does not fall, however.
With Grumblejack squeezing through the door and starting to lumber up from behind, Hel skitters forward to keeping ahead of the ogre; it's almost as if she doesn't quite trust him at her back which, to be honest, is a hundred and ten percent absolutely true. It keeps her ahead of Wesh as well, sending her past the guard before he can get his sword out - but then the warrior demonstrates upon the guard why he does what he does, and narrows the noblewoman's practical choice of targets from two to one. Her skirts flare as she spins in her movement forward, lifting her foot to strike at the guard on the right side of the hall. Her boot connects, snapping his head around, but he otherwise is unaffected.
Grumblejack moves up behind Wesh and says, "Nighty night, little man." He then swings a meaty fist towards the guard, over the head of the shorter warrior.
The fist connects with a thwack, slamming the guard into the the wall and cracking his skull, finishing off the surprised and overmatched guardsman.
The remaining guard desperately grabs his leather-wrapped club off his belt and swings it at Hel, missing, while he shouts, "Prisoner escape! Prisoner escape!" at the top of his lungs.
Swinging once more at the guard Gallen raises his own voice hoping the others would follow his lead in disguising the noise and sings out loudly. "Oh I am the last of the giants. Oh hear well the words of my song...
See? Using your feet at people does make them keep their distance. Keeping her own movement going, though, Hel slides another five feet closer, then spins downwards, the heel of her foot striking at the guard's ankles.
Wesh decides it's probably best for him to help make sure the other guard stops shouting. There would be plenty of killing left to do, but the fighter would prefer some decent food in his stomach before the slaughter begins in earnest.
Seeing Hel's positioning, Wesh moves over to the other guard and assumes a flanking position before slashing at the man with his longsword.