Gurwen nods towards Vritra. "Next time listen a bit closer, and you wont have to look like an idiot." She smiles, genuinely trying to be nice. She moves on to checking out the bow. Nothing like hers, but it will work for now. These ratty guards aren't worth killing with her bow anyway...
"Yes. Its time to get going. I, too, have gifts to give." She smirks.
Markus motions with his hands to head outside the cell, "Right then, this way everyone. I'll take you to the storeroom."
Before you can head down the hall to the left, you hear a voice coming from behind the door to the right, a deep voice with a strange accent, "Oi, what's going on out there? You lot finally gettin' ready to take me off to me execution? Let's see how many o' you little 'uns I can take down 'fore ya put me to the axe!"
Markus whinces as he hears the voice, "That's Grumblejack, friend, one of the last few Ogres left in Talingard. He was caught as highwayman in the moors here, waylaying everyone he came across and killing most of them. He killed two guards before we all got him in that cell. Richter's keeping him as a trophy until a suitable moment to execute him. He's trouble, friend, best we move on!"
Casting a glance in Grumblejack's direction, you see him through the bars, a fifteen foot tall Ogre with bulging muscles, scraggly black hair and a beard from lack of shaving, small horns just under his hairline, and menacing black eyes. He smiles, misshapen tusks jutting from his lower jaw, "Ah, well lookee here, it's a prison break!" he laughs thunderously. "Look here fellas, if ya let ol' Grumblejack out, I promise to play nice. Well, with you all anyways. With these damnable guards, not so much. Bastards had the nerve to slip poison in me food, nightshade from the taste of it. Come on, ya need help in a scrap, who better than a big scary Ogre, after all?" he chortles at the 'big, scary Ogre' phrase. For an Ogre, he seems surprisingly well-spoken and intelligent.
Vritra really tried to return the smile, but he didn't respond to Gurwen otherwise. The elf was perhaps trying to bridge the gap between them, but she wouldn't convince him that easily.
The guard moved forward, giving Vritra an excuse to walk away from the elf. The metal remained sheathed as they walked down the hall, even before they hear a new voice. The deep voice brought a smile to Vritra's face, no doubt belonging to a warrior! As they walked by the Ogre's cell, Vritra stared up into the black eyes. Perhaps they could release him? The Suli knew he couldn't destroy the bars, assuming that they were made of the same material as his chains.
Vritra tries to read the Ogre's body language, but is distracted by his rather unique appearance.
Vincent stiffened a bit as soon as he heard a voice not belonging to one of their merry band of criminals. He turned and stared at the Orge....he grinned eagerly, what chaos a giant could cause let loose in this paltry little dungeon. And if he was trustworthy...oh what a fascinating thing to have owing him a favor. His fingers began fumbling with the lockpick and he looked over at the guard with the keys.
"Big boy, you look like you could use a bit of exercise, stretch those long legs of yours and all. Perhaps I free you, what will you do once you leave this place. If I save you from your inevitable death at those filthy human hands...perhaps you can owe me something in return?" he offered up chuckling.
He didn't wait for a response from the orge before he stepped forwards and began to work at freeing him if he could.
Vincent looks over the Ogre, trying to ascertain if he is trustworthy. Like Vritra, he is too distracted by the Ogre to reliably guess.
Before the Ogre can react to Vincent's attempt at diplomacy, ruined by a sly tone he adopted as he thought of the things Grumblejack could do. As he opens the door, the massive giant steps out of his cell, ducking to avoid hitting his large head. He stands to full height as he walks past the open door. "Well, snake-man, you're not much good at talkin', but you're good at doin' things and that's fine by me. As for what I do afterwards, well, that depends on you lot, dunnit? We'll see later anyways. For now, let's focus on gettin' the Hells out o' this damned prison, wouldn't ya say? Oh, and the name's Grumblejack, just so ya know."
Veldrin grinned a rather predatory smile. An Orge, of all things, would be a great addition to his soon to be army. Sadly, Vincent did not seem to have be one for talking, which Veldrin was usually pretty good at.
"It would seem Mistress Zura has blessed me once more, with considerable might to back up my magicks. Please to meet you, noble Grumblejack, I am Veldrin d'Shraen. Come, let us lay waste to those who have wrongly imprisoned us!"
The Cloaked One watches the proceedings with interest but says nothing.
Gurwen looks at Vincent with wide eyes. "Are you crazy! That's an Ogre! It cant be trusted!" She backed up slowly, putting her hand close to her bow. "If it really has to be with us, keep your noses plugged and your guard up!"
"Not crazy dearie, smart. One should always take advantage of whichever opportunities present themselves. Why would we not want to have a massive orge help us escape?"
Jaq looked at the Orge and gave him a smirk. "Let's go bash some skulls in. Those puppies need to get some sense knocked in them."
'And my Lady provides. Best to use the tools at hand.'
Grumblejack stares at Gurwen, "Can't be trusted? So says a snooty Elf, of all things! I'm not trying to be your bloody friend, knife-ears, I just want out of this joint. I assume you're smart enough to want to escape too, eh? If so, then shut your gob and stop complaining. If not, say 'ello to the executioner for me!"
Veldrin and Jaq spend a moment speaking to Grumblejack, trying to make him an ally. He laughs, clearly amused at what was said, "Bahaha! That's the spirit, lads! I think we're going to get along just fine! Now, let's go break someone's headball, eh?"
Jaq turns to Veldrin, grinning still, "Seems both our Ladies have blessed us." Jaq moved forward heading towards the door, and reached for the handle. He looked back at the others to be sure they were ready before he would open said door. It was time for the conversion to commence.
The Cloaked One nods slightly.
Breath.
That was all that was needed before Vritra nodded, his body ready to unleash the fury of his progenitor upon the guards.
A single nod.
And they would fly.
Gurwen grumbles and follows, keeping a 'knife' ear to the conversation and a close eye on the ogre.
With a smile at the others, Jaq opened the door. Releasing him and his fellows upon the poor souls that were the guards. He stood back to let those who wished to rush in, do so before heading through the door himself.
Veldrin strides into the room like he owned the place, despite wearing peasant clothing. He holds his head high, looking down at the guards, for they were beneath the mighty Drow. Yet, even the lowliest of vermin had their uses.
"Greetings, gentlemen. I am Veldrin of House Shraen and I come to you with an offer. My companions and I are leaving, regardless of your wishes otherwise. Being a guard, stuck in this hell hole, is no way to truly live your life. I bet you get paid maybe a silver a week, which can not go far, especially if any of you have a family. Come with me, and I will pay you much better, and see to it that your families are taken care of as well. Or, decide that that lone silver you make a week is what your life is worth, and die, where you stand. The chose is yours, but make it fast, as my friends aren't the most patient bunch."
He pauses, thinking, then waves Markus forward. "Dear Markus, please tell your fellow guards that my words are true, and inform them of how I have promised to take care of you and yours."
The Cloaked One follows Veldrin into the room and stares calmly at the guards. Anyone looking at him will notice his hands are faintly glowing black.
A figure standing in the door with a tabard that was sloppy, and a sword that didn't need to be used.
Perhaps this would aid in negotiations? Vritra took Veldrin's side, across from Oscar. His arms loose by his side, the Abyss-blooded male was ready to continue breaking the morale of these guards, but that would be unnecessary.
For now at least.
The group of criminals enters the room, noting the guards, 3 male and 1 female playing at the table. After Veldtin makes his ultimatum, looks of horror run across the faces of all the male guards. The female guard, however, smiles a bit. She looks up at Veldrin with icy blue eyes, contrasted with her shoulder-length flame-red hair that spills from her helmet in a wave and her ivory white skin. She speaks to the Dark Elf, her husky tone bespeaking how much she is intrigued, "My, that sounds interesting, Mr.Shraen! Let me consider your offer... She gets out of her chair and holds her hand under her chin in a faux-thoughtful pose. The guard to her right looks at her, trembling slightly, "Miri? You're not honestly considering this... are you?" She suddenly draws her longsword and strikes at the man...
Laying open his throat in a spray of blood which coats the other guards, "Nope, not considering, already accepted." she says in all calmness, oblivious to the blood running down her face. She looks at you and smiles, "Come on then, let's finish these simpering cowards, then we'll discuss fees!"
How interesting!
Vritra launched into action as the sword flashed into the man's throat. It was so interesting to see the guards fall upon each other. But now was not the time for such paltry interests like that. Now was the time for Vritra to do what he did best.
Break heads.
Heavy footsteps slapped against the stone floor as a mass of muscle and bone ran towards the nearest guard. Rising up, the man unleashed a single strike of power at the figure, aiming for the very centre of the guard's chest.
Vincent could only grin at the situation as one of the guards turned on the others. He slipped in between the legs of the other eith vials in hand cackling like a kid with a bag full of candy. He eyed the room for only a brief moment before lobbing the vials at the guard furthest from the female.
"Bad in den Feuern der meinen Hass" he said with glee as he watched the explosion of flame go off.
"Now her I like!" She laughs. She takes aim at the furthest guard, snickering. "paybacks a b%@&!!"
Seeing the sudden explosion of violence, the Cloaked One dives at the surviving guards.
Gurwen nocks her bow and fire, her snickering causing her aim to veer of slight. She fired the arrow, which barely misses the guard and splinters against the stone wall at the other end of the room.
The unnamed Aasimar with the soulless eyes rakes one of the guards with his hand. The darkness enveloping his hand spreading throughout the guard, who slumps at the nearly-fatal blow.
Vincent throws his flask of volatile chemicals at the other guard, certain the explosion would take down the one engaging his compatriot. He was correct. The flask shatters against the guard, engulfing him in flames and splashing the other guard with flaming liquid. The target screams in agony as his flesh burns and chars, but still clings to consciousness. The other, already damaged by the Aasimar, can take no more, his body shutting down into unconsciousness.
The charred guard dodges Vritra's attack easily, so telegraphed was the move.
Jaq moves to attack the last standing guard, hoping to get some flanking from Vritra. He swung his club hard, aiming for a solid blow.
Veldrin surveys the death being dished out by his companions and grins "What lovely carnage you have all wrought, warms my dark heart" He says.
Jaq's swing is blocked by the guard's shield with a *THUD*.
Veldrin saunters over to the unconscious guard, and calls upon a minor dark incantation to cause the mans wounds to bleed profusely.
As he sends the unconscious guard off to his final resting place, Veldrin looks over to his ogre friend. "Grumblejack, be a good fellow and smash that other chap to pieces for me?"
Grumblejack smiles, Certainly! He moves forward and swings his massive fist at the guard...
Hitting him across his helmeted head and knocking him to the ground. The guard does not move, apparently unconscious.
Miri saunters over to the fallen guard and drives her sword deep into his back, which issues forth a sickening SNAP. She pulls the blade out and runs the blade over the dead guard's tabard, cleaning off the blood. "Now, what was that about payment?"
Grumblejack chuckles, "This little bird sure is the eager one!"
Jaq, seeing the guards killed and Veldrin and Miri conduction buisness, proceeded to brand them with the demon sigil of Sifkesh. His on little joke on whoever found them. He made sure to place it where it was obvious and taunting in it's placement. He wanted it where they couldn't hide it or cover it up. They'd branded him, so... why not let them have a taste even in death.
"That should do it." He chuckled to himself, looked around the room, before deciding, the room needed a Sifkish sigil. He choose the most obvious, most taunting location to place an arcane mark of the Sigil. He couldn't help but laugh as he did so.
The dark-eyed Aasimar confirms that the guards are dead then dons whichever one of their cloaks is least damaged. this will do for now....
Veldrin grins at Miri's eagerness "Indeed my dear, just as soon as I recover my belongings. I hope you will continue on with me, even after we leave this vile prison behind. Having a lovely companion such as yourself will definitely make the days and nights go by faster"
Vincent darted into the midst of things as Grumblejack felled the other guard. The blade was barely leaving the the guard's neck as he began to try to pry anything of value or use of the body. His eyes darted about as he scanned the room for useful things, Veldin had things covered it seemed with the newcomer. His tail swished about happily behind him as the smoke still billowed off the smoldering body. He hummed a delighted tune as he worked.
Vritra stood back up as the last guard is killed. The elven woman draws his eyes, her strange actions... questionable. She seemed almost too eager to be joining the slaughter of her fellow guards. The bloody scene here was perhaps only possible with her actions, but that didn't stop her from being a traitor further along the line. And with no trustworthy witnesses left to bear witness against her, she could easily betray them and blame these deaths on them.
Gurwen laughs at the marking of the guards. "Nice, Jaq. That should piss off the people who find them!" She puts her bow away, though keeping an eye on the last guard, the one that helped them kill.
Jaq places the unholy sigil on a tapestry depicting Mitra, right on the Empyrean Caul, the white halo said to obscure his face so that the mortals who behold him in visions are not driven mad. The jagged glyph seems to weep blood, a sign of Sifkesh's favor.
The dark-eyed man dons a deep blue cloak from the guard Miri nearly decapitated, red stil staining the portion tying across his shoulders. Not quite his color perhaps, but at least he could live by his moniker now. The cloak billows slightly, as if caught it an unseen wind.
Miri laughs merrily, "Oh, a lovely companion? You flatter me Veldrin. Better watch out though, or Mitra will smite you for being tawdry!" Her last words dripped with sarcasm and contempt as she looked at the now-defiled tapestry, lips curled into a smirk.
Vincent sets to work stripping the dead guard down, eagerly picking through his belongings for something of use. His gear was surprisingly similar to the guards previously scavenged, like they were each assigned a 'uniform' for service. His eyes alight on something, however. He sees a golden chain barely visible around the guard's neck. He pulls the chain from under the armor and tabard and sees it is a locket of some sort. It comes open and the painting of a beautiful young woman with curly brown hair in a high-neck white dress with stunning blue eyes can be seen. In the door is the words, 'Love Always, Anna', inscribed in flowing script.
Vritra eyes the Human woman Miri, taking a moment to see if she is trustworthy, as she seemed all too eager to betray her fellows. He reads her body language, as all the warmblooded-kind had little tells which betrayed their inner thoughts, recalling his draconic lord's teaching. Her body language seemed very hard to read, almost as if she has had practice at disguising it. Once she makes her sarcastic comment about Mitra, it seems to make a little more sense. He sniffs the air, the dormant wyrmblood within him awakening for but a moment. She smells of exultation, of joy, of indulgence in long-buried revenge. It is very unlikely she will betray them, judging from what he can gather from her.
Miri turns to Gurwen, "I should think so, seeing as how you defaced their idol. I hope so anyway! These Talireans are an ignorant bunch of yokels, a failed offshoot of true Taldans, even more puffed up than their forbears and with only a fraction of the style. What sort of people are looney enough to believe in this thing anyway?" She takes a dagger from the built in sheaths on her belt and throws it at the tapestry of Mitra, the blade pinning itself between the legs of the depicted figure. "Sarenrae is the Sun Goddess, not this... thing. Anyone with the slightest bit of sense knows this! But no, don't confuse this gal for the religious type, I'm more of a, shall we say, opportunist. Learned it from my dear mother, Isabella. We Sczarni don't look to the heavens for out fortune, we make our own."
Vincent stared at the locket for a bit, going over the various people he managed to see through his grate and small holes he managed to hide in the walls for seeing out of his prison of a room.
He held up the locket, his tail tip coming to his mouth where he nibbled on it in focus and curiosity. He shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. "Well well...looks like we might have a widow from this poor schlub. What do you reckon she might want for this little beauty?" he said before tossing it over at Gurwen. "I hear tale your race have a discerning eye. Tell me about the beauty....beauty" he said snickering a bit and flashing a toothy smile.
He looked up from the dead guard and began looking over the room as a whole, seeing if he could find possibly anything hidden or discarded.
Gurwen nods at the elven woman, then looks at Vincent and catches the locket.
"Well, sure, I could probably discern the price of this trinket, and Im also sure she would want it, no matter what the cost. However, its mine now, so she can cry all she wants." She returns the snicker and looks at it a little more closely, tearing the picture from the locket. "With love, bahahaha!"
Vritra smiled as his feelings confirmed her temporary loyalty. That in combination with her distaste for this Mitra... would make her especially loyal for the time being. However, the Suli didn't think she would make a permanent part of their alliance. Her secretive nature would work against them for now, and despite her actions so far it seemed like she could still betray them.
Just because she wanted to work with them now, didn't mean she would forever.
As Vritra relaxed for a moment, his eyes caught sight of the blue cloak worn by his compatriot. Smiling, he walked over and glanced at the Cloaked One, interested in why he had chosen to wear the bloody cloak. "Zi bensvelk!" he began saying. "The cloak may turn more bloody before we're free from here."
The Cloaked One returns the Suli's gaze.
As the blood oozed, Jaq smirked. "My Lady approves." He took another sweeping glance around the room. He wanted to be sure nothing of interest was overlooked.
The smile widened as the voice echoed in Vritra's mind. "Night hunting is the best hunt"
Turning and glancing at the bodies, the Suli looks around for some sort of pack. It would be good if he could collect some of this gear to produce some money on the human markets. Or even to create some sort of interesting tools if they could find some craftsman? The dragon he had served had some interest in human craftsman, allowing him to gain new and wonderful creations out of fallen trees.
One time, the dragon had even come across some starmetal, which he managed to hide from the search parties that attempted to find them. Vritra had been a boy then, and the scaled lord had shown him a glimpse of the great treasure.
No doubt it was moved from there when Vritra had not returned. The dragon was not foolish enough to engage dragonhunters head-on, long ago having learned the benefits of humility. It had been lucky that it was that dragon who found him, rather than the beasts of the forest. Si geou ehtah jacion tenamalo...
Vincent recalls seeing the woman depicted in the locket enter his parent's manor once. This was Lady Caltessa, regarded as one of the most charitable of the nobility, a woman who is practically a saint. She knew of you,and when she would pass by, often had a pained look on her face, a look of pity. You even recall one time, when she stayed for an event your parent's hosted, someone slipped a book through the gratings in your door, On the Wonders of Hope. You believe she is the only one who ever showed you any kindness. Naive, perhaps, but kind nonetheless. You remember her husband worked in a military position, but you never thought it was anything so lowly as this.
Several members of the group stare around, looking for something other than the gear the guards had on them. Nothing can be found, unless they decide to take the defiled tapestry or the blood soaked tables and chairs.