|
In the Republic of Andoran, many crimes may send you to Branderscar prison, but the sentence has but one meaning. You are wicked and irredeemable.
Each of you received the same greeting when you arrived. You were held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with a runic F by a fatter-than-usual guard. The fat guard seemed to hold some respect with the other guards, and you've clearly heard him being called
"Sergeant Blackerly".
The mark on your arm signifies ‘forsaken’ and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the great and eternal love of Sarenrae and her chosen mortal vassals.
Condemned, you face at best a life of shackles and servitude in the nearby salt mines. Others might await the “gentle” ministrations of the inquisitors so that co-conspirators may be revealed and confessions extracted. Perhaps, some of you will be spared this ordeal. Perhaps instead you have come to Branderscar to face the final judgment. In three days, the executioner arrives and the axe falls or the pyre will be lit. Through fire or steel, your crimes will be answered.
You have all been chained together in the same communal cell dressed in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. Manhandled and mistreated, any finery you once possessed is either ruined or long lost. No special treatment has been given any prisoner – male or female, commoner or noble – all of the forsaken are bound and imprisoned together. Your
feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain. Your arms are secured to the wall above by manacles. A guard is posted right outside the cell day and night. Little thought is given to long term
accommodations. At Branderscar, justice comes swift and sure.
Escape seems hopeless. You have all been well searched and every attempt to conceal anything on your person has failed. And if you could somehow slip your bonds and fly out of this prison, where would
you go? Who from your former life would want anything to do with the forsaken? Despised, alone and shackled – all that you can do now is await your doom.
For each of you, your old life is over. For each of you, hope is a fading memory. For each of you, justice will be fairly meted. And who can blame fair Andoran after what each of you has done?
A heavily scarred half-orc sits on the floor of the cell, leaning against the wall. He is of average height and canine teeth protrude sharply from his mouth, the tusks small but visible.
It's hard to tell with him sitting down, but he seems to be of average height. Some of the scars and burns on his grayish skin seem to have been ritualized, forming patterns of lines on his body while others seem to be random. His slightly pointed ears display two hole-wounds where jewelry would have been.
Despite the burns on his head, he has short unkempt black hair. His dark brown eyes are intense from beneath his heavy brow. He has an ugly face made uglier from the scars. His hands and forearms appear to be heavily burned, withered from heat, the blackened skin thin and papery. If the forsaken brand is there, you can't find it but another runic F is visible at the base of his neck, near his left shoulder.
Even through the harsh smell of filth, the lingering scent of ash and smoke can be distinguished on him.
He seems to be resting, almost relaxed even in his current situation, his arms folded on his chest.
A dark skinned mountain of a main sits at the side, staring down with unnaturally dark eyes. his ebony chest is set with old scars from the past, and one extends up across his cheek. long black hair falls down around his face, ending up on his back where the remnants of black wings once were.
he seems inward drawn, breathing slowly and not raising his head. occasionally he coughs, a bit of blood coming up from a bit tongue, just another thing that happened when his wings were clipped
She has a knowing look on her face. The woman is chained to the wall, and she is currently examining the 'F' on her arm. Her strait black hair shifts with every movement, revealing pointed ears. She has a pale face, and she seems to know exactly what's happening, you can just tell by her look. She has bright purple eyes, that stare right through you. She seems to be kind of short. You can tell that this woman, even right now is very attractive.
"Do you guys ave' any ideas on how to get out of this g$!&$*ned prison?" She whispers over to the Orc and the Dark mountain of a man.
"If only I had got a pick..." She whispers.
A young human male sits against the wall opposite the cell door. His brown hair is short and unkempt, and his pale blue eyes peer outward as if looking beyond the walls of the prison. His short hair allows a clear view of a blood red tattoo across his brow that appears to be a laurel crown. A portion of the tattoo has been outlined, but not colored, making it appear unfinished.
He seems to be about the same height as the half-orc, though his frame is noticeably smaller. Despite that, he is obviously a man who has spent many years honing his physical abilities as he is both lithe and muscular. The small scars on his hands and arms are indicative of a man who has spent months sparring in an effort to become proficient in a variety of fighting styles and weapons.
He takes his confinement quietly, though a small smirk appears on his face from time to time.
|
|
Perception
The guard outside the cell taps the arm of his colleague. "oi, you hear somming?"
- "Wut? Nah mate! Must be the rats again."
- "Yeah. There never used to be so many though. This place has gone straight down the crapper since Blackerly took over."
- "Yeah. Heh, I'll wager you a week's pay if you say that to his face though."
- "No. Frikkin. Way. You trying to get me killed?!"
- "hehehehehe"
|
|
A group of six guards, heavily armed and ready for trouble, come into the cell. Leading them is the fat guard you remember as Sergeant Tomas Blackerly. This was the man who held the brand that marked each of you. You also remember that he had a little too much fun as your skin burned.
He points to Sindran and speaks gruffly to one of the guards: “You! The green thing with the black paws, that’s the scum! Get ‘em unshackled.”
The sergeant nods smugly to the rest of you : “Oi, if any of you makes trouble, they’ll earn a right thrashing!”
As Sindran is led to the door by the guard (who obviously would have preferred that one of the other guards were picked to go close to the dangerous prisoners, but alas) Blackerly tells him : “Today’s your lucky day, Pitchpaws. You’ve got a visitor. Although, how you ever warranted such a fine lady is absolutely beyond me. Seems she wants to say good-bye. Now step lively, we wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”
For a moment, Sindran seems as surprised as Blackerly - he obviously wasn't expecting anyone. This could be interesting.
I look around at my cell-mates.
This could be our way out.
|
|
Ye Olde Mappe - Branderscar prison level
You are escorted roughly to a meeting room down the hall (room 20) and shoved into a chair. There waiting for you, is a hauntingly beautiful woman in an elegant black dress and soft silken veil. She looks as if she is headed to a funeral. Her hair is so platinum as to almost be white and her eyes are a vibrant almost unearthly green. She clearly has been weeping.
“Oh, dearest,” proclaims the unfamiliar woman. “I’m so relieved you’re alive!” She quickly turns to Tomas. “Could we please have a moment alone, good sir? For pity’s sake?”
Tomas goes blank for a bit and then quickly agrees. “Of course, my lady. For you,’ tis no problem.” You can clearly tell that somehow this woman has power over the guard.
As soon as the guards leave, the woman's demeanor immediately changes. She drops all pretense of grief or concern. She is immediately all business.
“Have you forgotten me, dearest?” the unexpected visitor says with a smirk, dropping her pretense of grief. “Call me Tiadora. We possess a mutual friend who would like to meet you and your fellow cell-mates. Unfortunately, our friend is unwilling to visit you in your present rather shabby accommodations so it seems you must escape. Don’t be so dour. Just because it’s never been done before is no reason you can’t be the first."
“If you manage that, cross the moors on the outskirts of town. On the old Moor Road you’ll see a manor house with a single lantern burning in the second story. There our mutual friend waits. That is
all I know. He did want me to give you this.” She takes off her silken veil and wipes away a few fake tears with it.
“Something to remember me by, dearest.”
Her message delivered, she grows impatient to leave.
Sindran looks up when the guards appear, regarding them with caution. He gives them a quick glance, his eyes pausing at their weapons, before paying attention to Blackerly and notices that something seems to be off with the man. Drunk perhaps?
When the fat guard points at him, the half-orc merely continues to stare intensely, not giving them the benefit of a reaction. He doesn't say anything even when he's unshackled and led out. It's only when the sergeant mentions a visitor that his face twists in surprise, realizing his expectations were wrong.
"Tiadora," the half-orc says, testing the name. "I am Sindran Eithe."
He pauses, assessing the woman as he takes the silken veil from her. "I thank you. Would you like for me to wait for you to leave the prison before attempting the escape? Though what aid you can render would be much appreciated."
Sense Motive
Spellcraft
|
|
She is clearly under orders and quite happy to follow them. The sheer force of will this odd woman displays almost commands respect.
"I've helped you as much as I can. If you are not competent enough to escape with this (she points at the veil), your meeting with our friend would end quickly and quite badly for you."
|
|
Her message delivered, she rises and the guards return. Immediately, her demeanor once more changes and she is again a perfect picture of grief. “No, I can’t bear to leave you!” She gives you a kiss on the cheek. The kiss is ice-cold and feels somehow alien and inhuman.
Tomas shakes his head. “I’m afraid it’s time, miss.” She looks deep in Tomas’ eyes and says, “Thank you for letting me say good-bye. There’s no need to search my dearest. You are such a good friend for letting me see my dearest one more time.”
“Such a good friend,” Tomas repeats his voice almost mechanical. Then the watch sergeant seems to snap out of it and bows politely. “A pleasure, madam,”
She leaves unveiled.
Her eyes meets you one last time and she briefly gives you a wicked smile. “Three days,” telepathically echoes in your mind. “Don’t disappoint me, dearest”.
The visitation concluded, you are taken back to his cell by a cadre of guards and shackled once more.
The veil Sindran holds in his hamsized fist, is in fact a...
Veil of Useful Items
Aura moderate transmutation; CL 9th
Slot none; Price 7,000 gp; Weight --
DESCRIPTION
This appears to be a fine silk veil of gossamer cloth. Only as it is held and closely inspected can you see small cloth patches of various shapes. One patch can be detached each round as a move action. Detaching a patch causes it to become an actual item. This veil contains:
• 2 daggers
• Bullseye lantern (full, lit and shuttered)
• Hempen rope (50-foot coil)
• Sack full of needed spell components (worth less than a 1 gp) and common clothes in the PCs sizes
• Thieves Tools, Masterwork
• Window (2 ft. by 4 ft., up to 2 ft. deep)
• Potion of cure light wounds
• 100 gold pieces
• Unholy Symbol of Asmodeus (silver)
Note that the window patch will create a window (and therefore a hole) in a nearby wall. If there are no nearby walls, it simply turns into a common wooden window frame. It cannot be placed on a living creature however. Once removed, a patch cannot be replaced.
CONSTRUCTION
Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, fabricate; Cost 3,500 gp
Aerent observes the proceedings without reaction. Something seemed to be happening here, but the ramifications were unclear.
Aerent catches the look from the black-haired woman and nods slightly. He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the stone wall with a soft mumble...
Description post
A mysterious and haunting Elven woman sits across the cell from you in a cross legged position, her eyes staring out in nothingness. Like many Elves in Golarion, she possesses an outer worldly beauty, even in her current ragged state. You can surmise that she is tall and slender, like most of her kin, but she appears quite frail and delicate even for an elf. She has bright yellow eyes that beam with intelligence, pale alabaster skin and fine long raven hair.
Though she shares this humiliating state, she appears to have maintained her dignity and grace. Her expression appears at all times neutral, almost wholly detached and unemotional. When she does move, Caladwhen moves with deliberate and natural grace. The 'F' branded on her arm is quite apparent, as it stands in great contrast to her otherwise spotless and pale complexion. Of all the indignities, the brand is the only thing that has even garnered so much as an eyebrow raise from this woman.
Cala observes the exchange between Sindran and the woman, then slowly affixes her eyes on the veil. Within seconds, a devious smile creeps onto her normally expressionless face. Without taking her eyes off the veil, Caladwhen speaks quietly in perfect elven so as only her cell mates can hear, her voice almost musical as she sings
Sindran is led back into the room and shackled. When the guards leave, he grunts, and loosens his fist, showing a silk veil that stands stark from his blackened skin.
He stretches his neck, audibly cracking it. There's a dangerous glint in his eyes as he inspects the other cellmates more closely. He doesn't understand what the elven woman just said, but ignores it for now. He clears his throat.
"Tiadora."
His voice is quiet, the word spoken low but clear enough for everyone in the cell to hear.
I smile.
Three of us can speak elven, what are the chances?
As quietly as I can manage, whisper the following in elven.
"Lady, what do you think is happening?"
EDIT:
Tiadora? Come to say 'Goodbye'?
Realizing the Half Orc doesn't speak Elven, though not surprised, she responds to the Half Elven woman's inquiry in the common tongue "If I had to guess, I'd say our friend here had a most fortuitous meeting." Eying the cell door to make sure they are not be listened to by guards, she continues more quietly "That," pausing to point at the veil, Cala finishes her thought "is no ordinary veil."
My eyes open, aghast for a moment. I quickly compose myself, and look her in the eye, and whisper in, in common.
"So we might actually be able to use that? If so, to what advantage?"
Ideas spin through my head of getting out, killing lot, and becoming a true, notorious thief. If only... We had to get out, I wasn't going to the Salt Mines...
Talon shifts, only to look up instead of downwards. His long hair falls back and reveals more of his face. Then his eyes shift sideways to Arryn, and he seems to be intently listening
|
|
What you've seen from Branderscar so far : Map
The prison is located on a small island, connected to the Andoran mainland through a bridge and a winding path(2). The island is surrounded by sharp rocks, and wild waves; jumping and swimming would be a quick and messy way to commit suicide.
The winding path leads to Branderscar's huge gatehouse, where two sets of large, solid double doors keep visitors out and prisoners in. You'd expect a couple of archers behind the arrow slots could transform anyone on the winding path into a dying porcupine in a matter of seconds.
The gatehouse is part of a high stone wall that surrounds the prison grounds. three story guardtowers(6) are located every 60 ft or so.
Beyond the gatehouse is a courtyard with a small fountain(4). The sounds and smells of the nearby guard dog kennels(7)1 are obvious. The courtyard is dominated by castle Branderscar, a large dismal stone building.
When you were transferred from the prisoner coach to the Branderscar guards, you were brought into the great hall(8) through a reinforced set of double doors; North side of (8).
You counted two doors on the west and one on the east side of this hallway. There was a tempting smell of half-decent food from the door to the southeast.
The doors at the southernmost end of the great hall lead to the stairwell (16), which lead up to the prison level (17), where you are now. Your current cell is 18B on the map. Sindran's meeting took place in (20).
The last thing of note, is the broad, tall tower located at the southernmost end of the fortress. It is an intimidating sight, overlooking the entire complex(21).
|
|
First day, hours have passed.
Your current situation in the cell allows for some movement; remember that you're all chained together and to the wall on one long, strong chain. If all of you wriggle about a bit, you can give one person at a time some room to move somewhat normally. Passing an item back and forth in such a way is very doable.
There are two guards outside your cell. As time passes, from the end of the hallway(19), low menacing grunts are heard every now end then; you notice how the guards get a little jittery as the grunts occur more often.
-"When's the last time Grumblejack had 'is medicine, you figure?"
- "Was just thinkin' that meself. Think he'll wake up before our watch ends?"
- "I'll be happy to wait..."
- "yeah. Me too. Only an hour or two before Ron and Sham get here."
- "Ron? I thought he switched duties with Hank, with him wanting to win back his lost wages in the poker game and all."
- "hahaaaa are you telling me he lost again?! some guys just don't know when to quit. I'm sure the missus will be pleased"
- "ghehehe"
There's no sign of life from any of the other cells. You're expecting more guards at (17) though.
To be honest, if you get your hands on lockpicks and if you decide to open the locks, I'm more interested in how quiet you are during all this, than wether someone of your skill can get the locks open. These locks are almost an insult to your ability.
Aerent listens to the comments and glances at his cellmates before looking closely at the elf. In a soft voice he says, "Time passes, what needs done?"
Looking quickly again at the to ensure it safe to speak, Caladwhen ever so slightly furrows her brow and speaks again in common "This veil has been enchanted with transmutation magics, and can produce many objects," glancing over again at Sindran and the veil, she continues "some of which might be useful. If I could get my hands free, I could demonstrate."
My eyes open so wide, that they might fall out. I was going to get out. Nothing could hold me in.
I wait a few seconds, trying to make sound come out, trying to whisper, but nothing does. I finally manage a whisper, as quiet as ever. "Well lady, we'd better get that veil to you. If I had a single lockpick, I'd be able to get all of you out. All of us, then we're scott free."
I can do this! I'll get my revenge, and I'll be free! I can do something!
Time passes and Sindran continues to think. None seemed to react to the spoken name, no apparent recognition. He lets himself fall back into silence when the others talked. The half-orc breathed deeply, letting the soft silk of the veil in his hand serve as a focus. When the guards spoke, he listened, gleaning information.
Tiadora had said her friend wanted to meet all of them. He listened to the others and took note of their behavior, judged their reactions. What was special about them? They seemed to have talents, but everyone here must have some. It was Branderscar. He shook his head. No use trying to figure out a reason. He had questions, but he wouldn't get answers until he escaped.
The human was inscrutable. The half-elf was eager and confident in her skills. The elf was smart, perceptive, and had her pride. Dangerous. The dark-skinned man looked strong but was in bad shape.
They all wanted a way out.
They would escape, but he knew what he needed to do first.
Establish authority.
Sindran looks up and speaks for the second time, addressing the elven woman. "You are familiar with it," he said, a simple statement masking the fact that he knew nothing of it.
He glances out the cell door, wary of any guards before turning to look them in the eye one by one.
"I assume you all want to leave. It so happens that a … mutual friend would like to meet you all. If you agree to the meeting, I'm sure escaping would be much easier," he displays the silk veil, "as I can see you've already guessed."
|
|
Perception
Suddenly one of the guards stands straight. He must have heard you talking. This could get ugly.
But then, to your relief, he points towards the grated window in the southern door:
Guard1: look at that, is that Sham coming up the stairs?
Guard2: Great, can't wait to get out of here. I need a drink.
Guard1: Heh, I need a couple, but I'm sure there's plenty at the poker table. I'll race you to it!
Seeing his replacement coming up the stairwell, Guard1 blatantly abandons his post, and eagerly starts to walk towards the exit of the cell block.
Guard2: Oi, you have to wait for him to come here, you tit! and then, as Guard 1 obviously isn't planning to do anything of the sort: ...Bugger that.
Guard2 turns towards your cell and fiercely bangs the metal bars of the cell door.
Guard2: Oi you lot! Have a nice death! Good riddance! And he moves off, following his colleague's fine example.
It would appear you have some time to chat and move for a little while, without being disturbed by the 'legendary' guards of Branderscar. You cannot help but wonder what earned this place the reputation it carries.
Still keeping my voice down, I speak up.
"Well, who knows what going to happen, but before and if I do die, and never escape, I want people to know my name. I'm Arryn..." I pause, and look over to the Orc.
[b]"So what's this meeting?"[b]
Ignoring the guard as though he didn't exist, Caladwhen without responds frankly to Sindran's question without the slightest hint of excitement or eagerness "I have studied transmutation magic, yes." Contemplating Sindran's proposition a moment, Caladwhen raises her left eye brow inquisitively "Normally I'd be suspicious of such a rendezvous, but it would seem our options are limited at this moment; as such, I would not be indisposed to meet our," Caladwhen pauses to add a little disdain and emphasis "mutual friend"."
Address the entire group, Caladwhen introduces herself "Allow me to introduce myself; I am Caladwhen." Raising her chains a moment, Caladwhen looks to her cell mates "Pleasantries can wait for now though, the sooner we remove my chains, the sooner we can make use of that veil."
|
|
this is you, chained together to the walls of cell 18b
clever characters may have seen that you're all chained together, and that
However, this slack could be taken advantage of by working together. You could allow one person to take up all slack in the chain, so that he/she gains the freedom to move 10ft from their chained position, while everyone else is straining somewhat uncomfortably, close to the wall.
This slack also allows you to pass an item along to someone else in the chain. This is relatively easy and only takes a full round action for one person to pass something on to the next in line.
Sindran clenches the fist that held the veil when the guard approaches, attempting to hide it though it seems unneeded as the guard doesn't pay much attention before he leaves.
He returns his attention to Caladwhen. "Patience," he says. "Escaping this cell would be easy. Escaping the prison would not. The chains stay on for now," his tone brooks no arguments, "until the time comes for when we escape or unless you have a way to keep the guards from noticing. It would be in our best interest to give the impression that we are still chained. I propose only, ah, Arryn, be unchained for now. Fooling the guards would be easy if it were only one person."
"I am Sindran Eithe," he says, a dark smile passing over his lips. "And we will be the first ones to escape Branderscar Prison. But first, we require a plan."
"I don't seem to have a way to pick the lock..."
"I think the veil should have something, but I didn't have time to inspect it in detail." He addresses a question to Arryn. "Still, had you a form of lockpick, you would be able to get us out fast enough when the need arises, I assume?"
I look at Sindran for a moment, than size up the time to get all the locks undone, including being quiet.
"I could get us out in about 5-10 minutes with a pick."
Int check
Talon suddenly comes to life and lunges forward, yelling in a strange language and using all his strength in a hopeless attempt to break the chains
Str
He quickly stops, then returns to his position on the wall. His eyes turn to the orc, he says "Let me see that veil orc" After a moment he retrieves the thieves tools, then makes them apparent to Arryn
"The orc speaks wisely, let us bide our time" He pauses for a moment, as if he's forgotten something "I am Talon, member of the Uruti tribe"
Aerent raises an eyebrow as the one called Talon surges against his chains. As the strix cries out, Aerent opens his eyes wide in surprise. Smiling, he shakes his head at the gesture of force.
Aerent leans forward and looks at the orc, "A chance at freedom, and all it costs me is a meeting? Why not? Especially for a mutual friend." He says the last part with an exaggerated wink.
He leans back against the wall and stares at the ceiling, but says "And - Sindran, was it?. I respectfully recommend you remember about our friend down the hall while finalizing our escape plan. Our guards seemed quite worried about this... Grumblejack. Perhaps that could play in our favor?"
Talon gives a dark look to Aerent, then smiles and speaks again
Aerent notices the look, and the strange language, but he does not respond.
"A fight will only slow us down, we have to at least work together for the time being. Come on."
Observing the display of strength and words directed at Aerant, Caladwhen rolls her eyes and speaks to Strix using the harsh sounding infernal tongue.
Looking over to Arryn, Caladwhen genuinely smiles for the first time as she observes the half-elven girl pick the lock, and then whispers something in Elven.
Addressing the rest of group, Caladwhen concurs with what has been said "If I heard the guard right, there may be only one guard for a time. I could enchant him, before his compatriot arrives. That would give us an edge when we need to act."
"Thank you... do you think I should unlock anyone else?"
I look around, with a new, happier look.
"I think that if you could, enchanting him would be a very good choice."
Talon gives Caladwhen a long, piercing look, then rests against the wall "Yes, you're right. This is not the time" He attempts to stretch out his back, and old habit, and once again is frustrated by the bindings on him "Perfect. You enchant him, then we can quietly slit his throat. Or better suffocate him so there's no blood" Talon speaks casually as if he's talking about doing household chores
|
|
Arryn nimbly snaps open the lock. She makes it look so easy, it's almost as if she were idly swatting a fly. Certainly a useful skillset in the near future.
It would appear both replacement guards are near.
Perception
Wisdom
Talon lowers his voice "You, orc...uhh Sindran. See this link by my left hand? I think if we both put pressure on we could break it, but not now. Cannot exactly hide that" He speaks up again, just enough for everyone else to hear him. He raises an eyebrow at Arryen "Impressive. I'm torn right now between us waiting here in shackles or just getting ready to jump any guard that comes in"
Sindran leans away from Talon when he yells and throws himself forward.
He nods at what Aerent is saying. "That might be wise. Another ally, unwitting or not, would be welcome. And failing that, a distraction would work to cover our escape. I have not noticed any other prisoners, but it's possible a ruckus might be raised if one notices us leaving them to their fate."
He thinks a bit, ignoring as the human and Talon bicker. He does not understand any of the other languages they used.
"That would be a good use for enchantment," the half-orc says to Caladwhen's idea. "When the time comes, whatever we do, we'll need to act fast lest an alarm is raised. Having the guard amiable and unprepared would be useful."
When Talon speaks to him he listens, and whispers back. "I'll remember that in case we have an emergency."
He silently agrees with Talon at his impression of Arryn's skill with a lockpick. Impressive indeed.
The half-orc notices nothing, deep in thought. After some time, he speaks, his voice firm and commanding even in the hushed tone.
"What is your name?" he asks the human.
"Arryn, is it possible to unlock the manacles but keep them closed? If so, try to unlock ours so we'll be free to act immediately when the time comes. Also inspect the door. You should have no problems with the lock but it pays to be cautious.
"Talon or Caladwhen, if you would, identify what items the veil contains? Knowing what resources we have is vital.
"We need to start planning our escape. Try to remember what routes the guards used to get us here, any details you may have noticed. We're on the second floor and going the direct way, down the stairs and out the door, holds a high risk of meeting guards and raising an alarm. If the veil holds rope, climbing down a window, if we can find one, may be less risky.
"Our main problem would be getting to the mainland. There's only one path out and they know it. Getting to the path is difficult in itself. Passing through the gatehouse is extremely dangerous and even the walls hold the risk of getting spotted by the guard towers. If there's a couch or some other form of transportation here, it may be wise to appropriate it for our own use. The others can hide inside while the human masquerades as a guard. Even if the guards eventually notice, they might not be able to catch up to us. I noticed dog kennels near the courtyard—it may be worth it to make sure their dogs are out of the way so they will have difficulty tracking us. Any other resources we come across should be taken or destroyed if we have time."
|
|
Strix are highly exotic creatures. It's difficult to even tell if it's male or fe- oh. No...that must DEFINITELY be a male :-S
Amongst the people of Andoran, there is plenty of folklore about all sorts of fierce, violent creatures living in the Aspodell Mountains, but until today, you didn't believe any of it. Sharply pointed ears, pupilless eyes, this one seems patient and cunning - a formidable monster of myth.
It is indeed possible to make the shackles seem closed after you unlocked them. Especially if all the guards in the prison are of similar competence as the once who just left your cell unguarded.