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WotW: A Knot of Thorns The Second Parchment

Game Master Xzaral

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King of Talingarde

Don't dot us, we'll dot you.


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Dots the way uh huh, uh huh, I like it...

Yeah, that's right. I went DISCO on you! You wanna know why?

Cuz DISCO is EVIL. >:)


HP: 38/38 AC 22/14/18: F+6, R +4, W+1*, Per:0, Init: +11

Dot's what I thought. It sounded like disco.
If Talingarde is responsible for disco, even what we do to it won't be enough...


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Too right, sister! We are doing the world a service. :)


Well, you can tell by the way I use my dot, I'm a dottin' man, no time for talk!


HP: 25/25 AC 19/15/14: F+3, R +9, W+5, Per:+12, Init: +4

Dotting this dotting thread :)


Male Human

In the kingdom of Talingarde, 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. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’ and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the great and eternal love of Iomedae 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 Talingarde after what each of you has done?

The four of you recall the events earlier in the day.

The prison creaks as you are rolled along. A chill wind whips around your bodies, a telling sign you are near some body of water, though you cannot see it. Your heads have been covered in hoods, your mouths gagged. Iron shackles bind your hands in front of you, attached to the floor of the wagon, while another pair of shackles bind your ankles, keeping your stride short. The only clothing you wear are rags that were provided you shortly after your capture.

The wagon stops for a moment, and you hear one of the men guarding you speak to another, though the words themselves escape you. The sound of an opening gate can be heard, then the wagon moves forward, taking you to what can only be your home for the next three days, Branderscar Prison.

The wagon stops just a short distance in, the cage heard to be unlocked. The guard can be heard speaking, "Bunch of bloody criminals", "they'll get what's coming to 'em", "keep an eye on 'em". The cage unlocked, rough hands come in and drag the four of you out, sharp tips that can only be swords prodding you onwards.

Kalina:
As you are removed from the wagon, a guard whispers in your ear, "I can't wait to make your last few days a living hell. Hoptkiss was my cousin."

Gwyndolin:
As you step down, your hand momentarily comes across a dagger. With a practiced hand, you remove it from it's sheathe and hide it inside your sleeve.

The four march single file, blind and shackled, the only guide the taunts of the guards, as you are lead into what must be a building. Rounding a corner, you feel an opressive heat wash over you as a rough voice calls out, "It would seem we have some new guests. The first thing we do here is your initiation." Several of the guads start to chuckle at his statement.

The first of the prisoners is shoved forward. "Take a look boys, she could've been anyone you see in town. This here person is responsible for killing an Iomedaen priest. " Price's arms are pulled across a table. "Remember, I'll stop when you scream." Unable to see, a scalding pain suddenly runs up her arm as what can only be a brand is forced into it. She holds out as long as able, but eventually the pain takes it's toll and she screams in pain.

The mark in place she is pulled away and moved aside as the next is brought forward. "And this was her accomplice in the matter." Cain is pulled forward next, only he feels a light powder dusted across his arm. At first confused, the rash he feels start to build is a sign that this powder is silver. "A little trick to make sure this stays." The brand is forced into his arm next, the pain with the silver powder insufferable. Cain too only holds out so long.

As Kalina is brought forth next, she suddenly trips forward as she feels someone push her from behind, easily avoided if she wasn't blind and bound. Sliding into the table, arms outstretched to catch her, the brand comes down before she's even steadied herself. "A deserter this one. Just couldn't make the cut." They do not wait for Kalina to scream to remove the brand, pulled to the side.

Gwyndolin is brought forth last. "This pretty little one was caught stealing from the Princess. She gets to learn an honest day's work when sh-" The man's words are cut off as one of the guards suddenly exclaims "She has a knife!" Realizing she has been caught, Gwyndolin strikes out with the blade, hoping to take at least one of them before she goes. She feels the dagger connect with flesh, though she cannot make out the wound, before she is forced to the table. The impact sends the dagger clattering out of her hands and she feels the brand sink into her left shoulder. "That's good enough for you!" the man snarls.

"Take this lot away. Damn girl, she cut me." The four of you are taken away, led up a flight of stairs. You can hear the sound of a cell opening, where the four of you are led inside and locked up. Your hands are attached to the wall's behind you, and a chain on one wall is looped through your ankles, binding the four of you together. You are able to sit. When all are secured, your masks and gags are removed, your first signs of your new accomodations. As your eyes adjust, you see the four of you are in a cell, several others around you. Only one other seems to be occupied, though there is a strange, very large doorway off to the right. The only other obvious occupant is a very tall man. Bracers surround both of his hands, chained to a metal girdle, effectively keeping his hands completely bound. A mask covers his face and mouth, preventing speech, though his eyes can still see. His feet are shackled as the rest.

Several guards stand outside the cell, one of them the man who performed the branding. He has a fresh scar running across the left side of his face, covering it with a rag to staunch the bleeding. "My name is Seargent Tomas Blackerly. I'm in charge of these soldiers here, and I plan to make your next three days miserable." With that he turns and leaves the cell, only two guards left by the far doorway.

Map of cells

At this point you may start discussing with each other before I move the story along. I'll be placing a copy of the map on the Campaign Info tab. I took a couple liberties with the opening, if there's anything people don't like, let me know and I'll retcon it.


HP: 25/25 AC 19/15/14: F+3, R +9, W+5, Per:+12, Init: +4

The small girl at the end of the line starts shivering. She tries to curl up in a ball and the chains rattle a bit as her feet move across the grimy floor.

"I should've known they would find out. Now their going to kill me or worse."

She buries her head in her knees and starts to sob.

"Dammit, mother was right. I'm useless. I'm worse than useless."


HP 49/37, AC 18, CMD 15, Fort +0, Ref +1, Will +5 Per +4 Channel 9/9, Grave Touch 8/8, Shirt 1/1, Vestments 1/1, Slippers 10/10 Current effects: Detect Magic, False Life, Mage Armor, Message, Spider Climb, Shield

The tall man looks up slowly as the new prisoners are brought in and thrown into the cell across from him. His dark skin nearly disappears in the shadows. Only his eyes and the glint of metal from his various bindings outline his position. He is not so much stealthy as he is still. He does not shuffle or fidget or strain against his bonds. He hardly moves at all. He simply looks on stoically as the guards manhandle the newcomers, making no move or sound. For now, he simply watches.


HP: 38/38 AC 22/14/18: F+6, R +4, W+1*, Per:0, Init: +11

Freed from the mask, Jakes immediately starts twisting and scratching in her chains, trying to worry at the brand.

"Seven hells, this itches!" As the door clanks shut behind Sgt. Blakerly, she yells at the retreating figures "Hurt worse getting my tattoos, you idiot! After several more thrashes, she gives up trying to reach the new reddening welt with a frustrated grunt. "Balls!

She appears to notice her other cell mates for the first time, not quite sure what to make of the mousey little girl crying beside her....


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Price glances briefly at her brand before she leans forward to see the other prisoners, curiosity getting the better of her. Cain is a known factor, the others - less so... at least for the moment. She regards the glaring, muscled woman and the sobbing girl neutrally, "Which one of you delivered that cut?"


HP: 38/38 AC 22/14/18: F+6, R +4, W+1*, Per:0, Init: +11

Jakes turns her head to regard the two chained on her other side. Looking across the rather haggard, wolfish-looking man to the woman beyond, she snickers. "Not me. I would've put his damned eye out..."


Where are our scars? Lower arms? Upper? I'm assuming on the outside of the arm? I'm just kind of a visual person.

Of the four new prisoners, only one is male, and he can't seem to contain the hate in his strangely-yellow eyes or the snarl from his lips... both directed at the retreating Blackerly. He's a lean young man, but tall with what looks like a rangy strength. His sun-darkened skin and  long, nearly-black hair are both dingy and oily, though the young man doesn't seem to notice. Altogether, his appearance brings to mind the image of a cornered and caged predator that doesn't realize he's beaten.  

The young man seems to sniff the air as he takes in the hard-armed and hard-eyed woman and then the much smaller, sobbing girl, where his yellow eyes stay. "I think it was the girl." He watches her steadily a few more seconds before giving his head a confused shake. " 'Less whatever they put in me is messing up more than my ability to..." He cuts off with an accusing look at everyone but Price. "Anyway, I'd buy the girl a drink if we weren't all headed to the block." He continues talking as he awkwardly worries at the angry red brand on his arm, "She was branded behind me, I think."

"Price, tell me you have some kind of backup plan for this..."


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7
Kalina Jakes wrote:
Jakes... snickers. "Not me. I would've put his damned eye out..."

Price gives the woman warrior a tight smile. "That's an idea with merit." Of course, she had suspected this was the one they called a deserter - by build and temperament alone - but confirmation was always better. And now she knew something else, the woman answered honestly. No self-aggrandizing bluster... good.

Price turns her attention to the sobbing girl. Quick hands - getting a blade in here. What other tricks does she have up her sleeve? The plain looking woman addresses the small, lithe girl for the first time.

"Hey... HEY." When she catches the girl's eye, she presses on, "Nice work with that blade - your mother should be proud." She adds a small nod trying to convince the girl that she's speaking the truth before turning her attention to their surroundings. Her eyes roam the bleak prison, cells, manacles, even the walls... looking for potential weaknesses to exploit.

Cain... wrote:
"Price, tell me you have some kind of backup plan for this..."

Price experimentally rattles the chains securing her to the wall, her attention unwavering. "I'm working on it..."

Perception 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28


HP: 38/38 AC 22/14/18: F+6, R +4, W+1*, Per:0, Init: +11
Quote:

"Price, tell me you have some kind of backup plan for this..."

Price experimentally rattles the chains securing her to the wall, her attention unwavering. "I'm working on it..."

"Price, eh?" She looks back and forth between the man and woman to her right.

"Know each other, do you? That's bloody fantastic. It's great fun bringing a friend to the gallows, so I'm told..."

She hoped Price snapped the crying girl out of it. She didn't need to meet her end with a throbbing headache.

"Look, Price. Another sergeant in my old unit. Big flappin' lout of a man, he was. Used to run one of the gaols here. Talked about it all the time over the firepit. All the fun he had with the prisoners.....those as tried to run and such. Ain't no escaping _this_ hole." She shook the irons to demonstrate her point.

She turned to the small girl. "And I reckon scarface is none too pleased you ruined him for all the maidens o' Talingarde. Best save your spit for his face, before you drop....or when he takes you in for some special questioning...."


HP: 25/25 AC 19/15/14: F+3, R +9, W+5, Per:+12, Init: +4

Gwyn looks up at Price's words. Her eyes are watery and she sniffles as she tries to bring herself to some sense of composure.

"Heh, my mother would have told me that I should have killed him, or that I shouldn't have taken the dagger, or let it be found, or something else that I did wrong in her eyes. She always was a heartless old witch. I never did please her."

Kalina Jakes wrote:
She turned to the small girl. "And I reckon scarface is none too pleased you ruined him for all the maidens o' Talingarde. Best save your spit for his face, before you drop....or when he takes you in for some special questioning...."

She starts to laugh, but then the girl seems to wilt at that prospect of having a "special questioning" session with the guard she knifed and curls up again, but this time her eyes are fixed on the door into the cell block.

"Great. It's just like the bloody balls all over again."


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7
Kalina Jakes wrote:
"Look, Price. Another sergeant in my old unit. Big flappin' lout of a man, he was. Used to run one of the gaols here. Talked about it all the time over the firepit. All the fun he had with the prisoners.....those as tried to run and such. Ain't no escaping _this_ hole." She shook the irons to demonstrate her point.

Price debates what to say and how to appear with the guards so close by. No guardsman has shown any obvious exploitable sympathies. And our crimes are probably known to every one of them. Price immediately discards playing 'victim of circumstance', 'wayward woman', or any one of a half-dozen other ruses that come to mind...

To Kalina, Price returns a manacled half-shrug. "What else is a gaoler going to say - 'Our prison is probably difficult to escape'? I don't think that's something the public or the King wants to hear." She smiles grimly, "Besides, I've got nothing better to do for the next few days. If you are happy to wait for a dance with a rope... suit yourself. I'd rather get cut down by the guards than face the pyre. Done right that's a bad death... and the one thing Sarenrae's followers probably know is how to barbecue meat."


Male Human

As you all discuss your current circumstances, the door to the cells open, and in strides Seargent Blackerly. The wound on his face has been healed, quite probably through extraordinary means, though a scar has begun to form in it's place. He looks perturbed as he walks up to the cell door, 6 guards in tow.

“You there! That’s the scum! Get ‘em unshackled. If any of you makes trouble, they’ll earn a thrashing! Or worse." As he says this he glares at Gwyndolin, unconsciously touching the scar on his face. He turns back to Price. "Today’s your lucky day, scum. You’ve got a visitor. How you ever came to share blood with such a fine lady is beyond me. Seems she wants to say good-bye. Now step lively. We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.” As he speaks, he points towards Price. The door to the cell is opened and the guards enter, two retrieving Price while the other four watch the rest of you for trouble.

Sense Motive DC 25 (anyone may try):

A sunken look in his eyes, a slight jerk in his motions. It's clear that Blackerly is under the influence of some kind of enchantment.

Perception DC 10 (Xanos gets a +2):

A seventh guard had entered with Blackerly and is currently whispering with one of the guards, though you can't make out what they say.

Perception DC 20, only if you made the previous one (Xanos gets a +2):

Okay, so you can. "Sir Balin just left Branderscar after receiving some letter. It's kind of frightening, all the fuss they're making over 'him', and he just up and goes. What could be so important?" he motions towards the Xanos.


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Price underplays her strength, acting as if the chains weigh her down.

Perception 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22
Sense Motive 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16
Bluff (if needed to sell she is weak) 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21


HP 49/37, AC 18, CMD 15, Fort +0, Ref +1, Will +5 Per +4 Channel 9/9, Grave Touch 8/8, Shirt 1/1, Vestments 1/1, Slippers 10/10 Current effects: Detect Magic, False Life, Mage Armor, Message, Spider Climb, Shield

Perception 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

When the guards entered the tall man rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, ignoring them entirely.


HP: 25/25 AC 19/15/14: F+3, R +9, W+5, Per:+12, Init: +4

Sense Motive:1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Gwyn scrunches up even tighter against the wall, but something about the way things are going piques her curiosity.

This is odd


Sense Motive 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14.
Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26


Cain gives the chains over his wrist one solid yank to test their strength in front of the guards, but really in an attempt to help hide Price's weakness act.

Str (to test the burst DC - not to bust out in a room-ful of guards) 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19.
Bluff AA for Price (distraction) 1d20 ⇒ 16.

The seventh guard gets a sideways glance, but Cain refrains from looking at the subject of the man's whisper... for now, at least.


Female Human

The chains are old, but sturdy. DC 24 Strength check.

Price:
Price is escorted away to another room (room 20 on the updated map below). There she is brought forth a hauntingly beautiful woman, hair of platinum and eyes a vibrant unearthly green, one who isn't a blood relative you know of. She has clearly been weeping. “Oh, dearest sister,” 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.”

Sense Motive DC 15:
It is quite obvious to you that this woman has some form of power over Blackerly

Price:
With that, Seargent Blackerly leaves the two of you alone in the room. As he does, she drops all pretense of grief and takes a serious attitude. “Have you forgotten me, dearest sister?” the unexpected visitor says with a smirk. “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.”

I've attached a fuller map below of the prison from what Price has seen.

Fuller Map


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Oops. Looks like I missed rolling the second perception check from last night. That's what I get for posting late. Sorry.

2nd Perception 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31

Tiadora:
Feigning surprise for the guards is a task made simple by Price's genuine shock. "Oh sister!" She cries, burying her face in her dirty hands until the guards leave, the portait of a woman overthrown by shame and grief.

Tiadora wrote:
"Have you forgotten me, dearest sister?" the unexpected visitor says with a smirk. "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."

Price appraises the beautiful woman briefly. She had walked in and would likely walk out of here - the worst prison in Talingarde - like the wind. That made her both skilled and dangerous, qualities Price respected. She returns a ghost of the woman's smile.

"Tiadora, how could I forget my sister? Though you look so radiant in this dark place that it is as if we had never met before. Nevertheless, I'm glad to see your 'familial' face. As for my 'friends'... I have so many. As many as the fingers on the stumped arms of a beggar. Could you tell me which one specifically has my welfare in mind?"

Price doesn't really expect an answer but any additional information may be helpful. She takes the veil and examines it while dabbing tears that don't exist from the corners of her eyes.

"Bless you, Sister. I hope some day to repay your kindness. Give my love to our Father." She balls up the veil in her hand.

Sense Motive (Tiadora) 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30

O.O - Oh I wish those 20's waited to show up until the first battle?!?


Female Human

Price:

"Now, now, the less you know for now, the better. First make your way to the Manor House, and then we can talk of old times and new friends."

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, dear sister!” She gives the PC 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 sister. 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 meet the PCs one last time and she briefly gives them a wicked smile.

“Three days,” telepathically echoes in the PC’s mind. “Don’t disappoint me, dearest. And be sure to bring the one shackled and bound with you.” The visitation concluded, the PC is taken back to his cell by a cadre of guards and shackled once more.

The Veil

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.

  • 2 Daggers
  • A lantern
  • A coil of rope
  • A small sack with an arcane rune on it
  • A set of tools
  • A window
  • A stack of gold
  • 2 vials (one marked with a draconic rune for life, another with a wolf's head)
  • A symbol of Asmodeus


Spellcraft DC 24, upon examing the veil:
One patch can be detached each round as a move action. Detaching a patch causes it to become an actual item.


HP: 38/38 AC 22/14/18: F+6, R +4, W+1*, Per:0, Init: +11

Sense Motive: 1d20 ⇒ 13
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 19
Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 14


Male Human

Blackerly leads price back into the cells, where she is once again shackled with the others. As him and the guards go to leave, he tosses a glance over at the gagged individual alone in his cell. One of the guards can be heard speaking to him. "Don't like this one bit, Seargent."

Blackerly retorts back to him. "Bah, we're plenty good to watch this lot. You just need to lose some gold to me tonight at our game. Got a good bottle of brandy even." The guard cheers up for a moment, then sulks, this time at the apparent prospect of the game. As the group leaves, the two guards go with him, but can be heard laughing and talking just outside the doorway to the cell block.


HP: 38/38 AC 22/14/18: F+6, R +4, W+1*, Per:0, Init: +11

Watching Price get led away, Kalina glares at the remain guards. "What, no visitors for me?"

As Price is returned, she gives the woman a look, eyebrows raised. "I find myself coming round to your point of view...any ideas how I can die with my hands around Blackerly's throat?"


Cain once again watches the guards leave, but can't help letting a dark laugh escape his lips, "I'll hold the son of a b!tch down for ya, but only after we jam that hot brand down his throat." Cain looks back over at Price, "You hear the guard about Balin and that fella in that other cell? And did you get a looksie at anything useful while on your date with Porkerly there?"


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Sadly, I didn't take a rank in Spellcraft. :(

As she is lead from the interview room back into the cell block, Price glances at the separated prisoner... running through what her 'Sister' said as well as what she overheard from the guards beforehand. It all condenses down to a single thought.

Who IS this man?

Price is lead stumbling towards the cell, the heaviness of her chains and presumably her crimes weighing her down. For the guard's benefit, she appears bereft of hope. But her fellow prisoners see a gleam in her veiled eyes - something more than mute defiance. Cain, familiar with Price's ways, realises that she has the implacable look she gets when a mission has started. She's past the 'planning' phase.

She makes no effort to stop the guards from shackling her, merely stifles a pitiful sniffle of sadness. Only after the echo dies from the slammed exit door does she drop the charade, shakes her muscles loose, and returns to a normal stance. She smiles.

Kalina wrote:
As Price is returned, she gives the woman a look, eyebrows raised. "I find myself coming round to your point of view...any ideas how I can die with my hands around Blackerly's throat?"

Price pitches her voice low, making sure it doesn't carry to the guards. "No... but we might find a way for you to live with your hands around Blackerly's lifeless throat. Wouldn't that be better? But I can't promise it will happen today. What I can offer you is a chance at busting out of here. If you want it." She indicates Gwyn with a jab of her chin. "You too. If you want out of here, dry your eyes. You've got an easy choice - live and possibly die on your feet or live on your knees until they finish you."

She is already sure of Cain's answer, but she gives him a look nonetheless. "Do I need to ask? As for what I saw... there was a meeting room and stairs UP and hopefully OUT. It sounds like our revenge on Balin will have to wait. It's probably a good thing he's gone - he might complicate our escape."


HP: 25/25 AC 19/15/14: F+3, R +9, W+5, Per:+12, Init: +4

Gwyn uses the heel of her hand to wipe away the remaining tears. She's obviously still afraid, but there's something else behind her eyes as she speaks.

"Tell me when I can slip out, and I will hand you the keys."

Escape Artist: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Gwyn isn't actually trying to slip her bonds she just wants to see if she can, and quickly.


HP: 38/38 AC 22/14/18: F+6, R +4, W+1*, Per:0, Init: +11
Quote:
"What I can offer you is a chance at busting out of here. If you want it."

Jakes lets slip a pleasured growl, deep in her throat.

"Alright, sister. You have my attention..."


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Price nods approvingly at both women, "Good. I was given a veil and I've got it in hand. There are patches on it. I think we can pull them off and they'll become thieves' tools, a weapon, gold, things like that." She unfurls the veil.

I'm assuming we are close enough that we can pass it hand to hand as needed.

The Veil

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.

  • 2 Daggers
  • A lantern
  • A coil of rope
  • A small sack with an arcane rune on it
  • A set of tools
  • A window
  • A stack of gold
  • 2 vials (one marked with a draconic rune for life, another with a wolf's head)
  • A symbol of Asmodeus

"So, we have a... patron who wants us all out of here." She looks across at the chained man in the far cage, "...especially him. We've also got a meeting point and maybe a safe house, if we can bust out."

Price doesn't offer her concerns about their patron or his/her messenger. The memory of the woman's inhuman touch is all too sobering.

Price considers her approach. These are independent people who probably don't like orders any more than she does - but they need to work together to make it out. She appeals to their self-interest. "I'm not in charge here. I'm not calling the shots. But I've got some suggestions to get us all out of here alive.... I think we wait til this evening when most of the guards are in that card game, and hopefully drunk, then we get loose, hopefully lure those guards over here. We take them down quick and quiet, squeeze one of them for information, then we see about getting out of here."


HP: 38/38 AC 22/14/18: F+6, R +4, W+1*, Per:0, Init: +11
Quote:
"I'm not in charge here. I'm not calling the shots. But I've got some suggestions to get us all out of here alive.... "

Kalina shrugs. "Don't much care. Never been one much for planning, myself. Get us the hell out of here and you can keep calling the shots all damned year."

She eyes the figure across the way. "Who's that? Another one for the gallows?"


HP: 25/25 AC 19/15/14: F+3, R +9, W+5, Per:+12, Init: +4

"As long as I get out of here, you could call yourself the Queen of all Talingarde and demand tribute for all I care."

A wicked smile spreads over her face and an evil gleam replaces the fear.

"Besides this seems like too much fun to pass up."


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Price looks at the gagged man speculatively, "I don't know what he's done, but there has been some special fuss made for his stay here. Some of those guards seem afraid."


HP 49/37, AC 18, CMD 15, Fort +0, Ref +1, Will +5 Per +4 Channel 9/9, Grave Touch 8/8, Shirt 1/1, Vestments 1/1, Slippers 10/10 Current effects: Detect Magic, False Life, Mage Armor, Message, Spider Climb, Shield

The chained man opens his eyes and returns Price's gaze. His eyes are pale enough that even in the poorly lit prison they catch light. His expression is flat, but not empty. Slowly a single eyebrow raises.


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Price gives the chained man a nod and a slight wave, unsure if he can see her in the gloomy lighting. She says to her new-found comrades, "He's probably in for something really horrible... drying his underwear in the public square on the King's birthday maybe."


HP: 25/25 AC 19/15/14: F+3, R +9, W+5, Per:+12, Init: +4

*snicker* "I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case."


Male Human

I'm back!

Gwyndolin:
A test of the bonds tell you with all the skill you currently possess, these manacles, while old, are secure enough to prevent you from slipping out of them.

Time passes, and you can hear the sound of the guards switching out from inside your cell, the only signal that evening has begun to approach from this windowless room. Noises can be heard coming from outside the cell.

Perception DC 15:

The guards seem to be enjoying themselves. Occasional a word can be heard clearly, such as "Blackerly", "Poker", and "Brandy".

If the Perception roll is 20 or higher:

The guards have just come from the poker game hosted by Blackerly. They are already slightly inebriated, and have brought more liquor to share during their watch.


HP: 25/25 AC 19/15/14: F+3, R +9, W+5, Per:+12, Init: +4

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

"Seems like our gaolers are in a good mood."


Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13. Nope.

Cain -- who'd been sitting nearly stone-still for the last few hours -- looks up at Gwen's words. The girl, despite her small size and earlier bout of tears, had shown herself capable of sneaking in a weapon, the guts to use it when the moment came, had enthusiastically embraced their plan to escape, AND apparently had some sharp ears. She might prove really useful to have around, indeed.

His yellow eyes rise to take in the strange man in the other cell once more, then at the two women to his left, and finally resting on Price to his right. He shrugs, but his unspoken thought is clear, We about ready to do this?

His eyes also stray questioningly to where he knows Price has been hiding the veil she brought back with her.


Male Human

Just a quick thing, when reading back through posts, the poker game is still going on. It was just time to change the guards out. Wanted to clarify that.


Yah, I think the general idea was for us to use the game as an opportunity to break out. I was just waiting on Price -- as the person with the Veil thingy -- to pass that thing over to Cain or Gwen. Do we have to make some kind of Spellcraft check or something to know how to use the Veil? And the entry that says "a set of tools", can that be any set of tools (like thieve's tools)? Or something more specific?


Male Human

You're not sure until you remove them, hehehe. Though the patch itself does look rather like lockpicks.


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Price catches the look and shoots a glance at the guards before saying quietly, "Those boys have another full bottle with them and they plan to make a dent in it. Let's give them another hour or so before we do this. With luck, half the guards will be drunk and it will be fully dark outside. In the meantime..."

Price stretches her chains quietly to hand the crumpled veil across to Cain with words that it should get passed down to Gwyn.

I don't know if Gwyn can get unlocked and leave the manacles so they look locked - but that would be ideal.

Perception 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27


Cain passes it down, adding a whispered request, "If you can get yours loosened, send the tools back down to me... I've picked a lock or two." Wanna give Gwen a crack at it first, since that's her gig. :)


Class: AC: 16|12|14 - For:+4 | Rex:+3 | Wil:+9 - Per:+15 Init:+7

Doh! Apologies Cain, I forgot you had that in your skillset.


Don't sweat it. I know Gwen is built to be the lock-pick, so I want to give her first crack. :)
Cain will probably (if we can make it out of here) consider himself the backup lock-pick.

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