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 Mitra and his 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?
DOT
The young Chelaxian man looks up at his fellow prisoners and thinks to himself. Well this is an interesting end to a fine career. Why did you have to go and get yourself caught. Well I guess I'll just have to break out of her.
He begins to look around for anything that he might be able to pick the lock.
Esan stands in the middle of the cell, eyes closed, but his other senses sharp. He simply stands there, not moving or speaking. The Iron Law wraps around him.
He is a sparse man, wearing rags and little else. His head has been shaved, and fresh bruises can be seen at this wrists, ankles and upon his face. Yet he just stands there, quiet and unmoving.
Assessing the situation, the prison you are in occupies the great hall's upper level. The main room is a windowless stone bunker full of stout iron cells is where prisoners are held. The bars are solid and difficult to unbreakable. The locks on the cell doors are almost antiques, as are the manacles around feet and neck. It would be simplicity itself to free yourself, if your hands weren't manacled to the collar around you neck and you actually had some tools to work with.
Unfortunately, your repution is known. The guards carefully, and invasively, search you before throwing you in. Aside from your own rags, you have nothing.
Aside from the cell you and your companions occupy, the cells are all empty, except for the southernmost cell, which is made of especially strong bars and holds an ogre!
Separate from the cellblock lies the guardroom. Two guards are always on duty here, rotating in eight hour shifts. Every few hours, one of the guards does a quick walk-through inspection of the cells. If there is noise above a quite conversation, the guards come in to beat anyone near the bars, or piss on you if they are feeling annoyed. One always remains in guardroom with the signal horn, ready to blow if there is trouble.
A stately looking man with an air of intelligence about him looks at the other people in the cell. He has jet black hair and piercing green eyes with what was once a well trimmed and oiled goatee but is now somewhat ragged.
He smiles and says quietly, making sure that he is not heard by the guards, Did anyone manage to sneak anything past the guards?
Not seeing anything that can be used, Thomas turned to answer the question. "Unfortunately, I did not. Those ruffians were quite thorough." Looking over the man with eyes almost as black as midnight, the young rogue asked, "So how did someone as well groomed as you end up here? What did you do? Flirt with the wrong nobleman's daughter?"
screaming and shouting Raymond is pulling and shaking his chains welcoming the pain it causes
Raymond's eyes glitter Tears roll from his eyes while his face is horificly angery not paying anny atention to the other prisoners.
WHY!! WHY AARGH May Iomeday Fall from the heavens in to the Abys
Esan opens his eyes to stare at the raging man attempting to sunder his bonds. He frowns at the bestial display making a mental note. He then turns to the others. The two are very ordinary, but seem to be following the rules. Again he make a mental note, and continues to listen.
Alexander smiles at Thomas's question and says No noblemans daughters, sir. Just those sanctimonious Mitrans and their meddling in affairs beyond their comprehension is what landed me here. Their false righteousness is just a screen for their own power hungry ways. They fear that which the do not understand and like children or animals lash out instead of embracing it. Though I do not shy away from power, at least I don't hide behind false piety in the search for it.
Looking over at Raymond, Alexander says gently, I hope this screaming is some clever ploy to get the guards in here so that you can subdue them. If not, know that I share your sentiments. That being said, perhaps it would be best not to antagonize our guards until we are in a position that allows us a modicum of advantage.
"Quit your banter, I'd rather not be beaten again," came a voice from the corner. Another human but one with a far-off look in his eye. He had received his own beating recently which had left a once handsome face with numerous bruises and a broken nose that was in the process of healing slightly crooked. His chestnut hair, once well groomed, was now shaggy and unkempt. Blood had dribbled from his nose and into his bread to dry there.
"If there were a way out of here, it'd have been found by sharper minds than ours. This isn't some back country lock-up."
Shut your traps you filth you all diserve punishment! ALL OF YOU!
what to do Slay these fools or join them and kill the damn nobles who alow their kind to prey on the weak!
*a voice in Raymonds head* kill kill kill them all they diserve it!!
"Hmm, charming fellow," the man said before leaning back and closing his eyes. If he was going to be hung, he might as well be well rested for it.
"I hate to break it to you but if you're in here with us then you're no better in the eyes of the law."
realizing the bruised and broken man was right he started thinking should I repent? Or should i slay all those who deserve punishment, maybe this scum can help me kill all those who think they are better than us.
*the voice again* Kill Kill KILL those bleu blooded fools prove to them they’re blood is as red as a peasant
Terrific, a self-righteous madman. Interesting company you keep Thomas. After the man settled down, the man in the corner piped up, getting his attention. What is the deal with that one? He has the look of a Wizard, but there is something.....off about him. I'll need to keep an eye on him. "You there, in the corner, what was your crime?"
"Desertion, I skipped out on my patrols to see my brother before he was burnt at the stake." He did not bother to open his eyes when the young man spoke to him.
"Resisting arrest as well, I suppose but desertion is what they were after me for. Tried to saddle me with a few other crimes but nothing would stick."
The raging man attracts the guard's attention. Sarge! The psycho at it again!
A group of six guards, armed and ready for trouble, troop up the stairs and enter the cellblock. You all recognize the leader, Sergeant Blackerly, the man who held you down as the brand was seared into your flesh.
He opens the cell door and points at Raymond and Alexander Give that one a nap! Get the other one unshackled. Addressing all of you. Give us any trouble and you'll be pissing blood for a week.
Looking at Alexander, Today’s your lucky day, scum. You’ve got a visitor. How you ever warranted such a fine lady is beyond me. Seems she wants to say good-bye to the scholar. Now step lively. We wouldn't want to keep her waiting.
The guards advance on the raging madman and beat him into unconsciousness before menacing the rest of you and hauling the refined looking man away. Due to the manacles, there is little the rest of you can do.
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Alexander, you are escorted to a meeting room with table and chairs adjacent to the guardroom. 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. What strikes you most about this woman is that you are certain you have never seen her before.
As soon as the guards leave, her 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.
With a flick of her hair, 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.
All things come to those who wait, Esan thinks as he watches the guards beat the one man into unconsciousness and then lead another out of the cell.
Esan moves a little closer to the cell door and continues to wait until the time is right.
"Well that was entertaining," the man in the corner said, his eyes open now. He nudged the unconscious man with his boot and snorted, "Tried to warn him."
Alexander goes quietly with the guard. When he is brought into the meeting room Alexander immediately smiles inside. At least if I die, I'll have this womans image when I go. When her demeanor changes, he smiles and says Well Tiadora, I would be most pleased to meet our mysterious benefactor. Also understandable that he would not wish to meet us here. I cannot speak for the others but if we manage to escape I will be at the manor house.
Taking the offered veil, Alexander presses it to his face as if smelling it but is really searching it for hidden items and quietly uses detect magic on it to see if there are any auras. I will treasure it until the end of my days...hopefully more than one or two. Alexander takes a moment to look over the room to see if there is anything he can use.
Visitor? Who visits the forsaken? There's got to be more going on. Yes it certainly was. After some thought, Thomas couldn't help but ask, You, deserter, what are you? You have the look of a Wizard, but there is something off.
"Perhaps the fact that I could rattle your teeth without using any spells if I needed to is throwing off your perceptions," with that, the man closed his eyes again. There was nothing more interesting to see at the moment. He leaned his head back against the cool stone.
Alexander, the item is definitely magical, radiating a moderate strength aura, though you are unable to determine it's exact properties or the school used to create it. As you examine it closely, subtle designs or patches are sown into the gossamer silk. There are 2 daggers, a bullseye lantern, a coil of rope, a sack, thieves tools, a window, a potion/vial/flask, a stack of coins, and in the center a symbol of Asmodeus.
Looking around the room, you can't find anything useful! Only splinters of wood, a bit of left over food, and what looks like an old die in the corner. Why couldn't the guards be a little more lax.
I'm sure you will. Her message seemingly delivered, Tidora 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 cold and feels somehow alien and inhuman, yet compelling.
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 meet yours one last time and she briefly gives you a wicked smile. Three days, A unearthly voice echoes in your mind. Don’t disappoint me, dearest. The visitation concluded, you are lead back to your cell by the cadre of guards.
The man in the corner opens his eyes once again as Alexander is returned to their midst. "What've you got there? That friend of yours give you some dirty linens to be burnt with you?" He asked.
"Did you get any kind of look of the layout of this place?" Glint inquired.
Once back in the cell, Alexander waits until the guard leaves before looking at the group. Speaking quietly he says, Cheer up men. I may have a way out for us. It will take us working together in order succeed but personally I am not quite yet prepared to shuffle off my mortal coil. We seem to have a benefactor that wishes to meet with us and has given us a chance to escape if we have the intelligence to carry it out successfully. First, is there one among you with sufficient skill to pick locks? If someone answers in the affirmative, Alexander tries his suspicion about the veil and removes the patch that is in the shape of a set of lock picks and hands them over.
Release us and we can get to work on the next section of the plan. Does anyone here know the layout of the prison at all? If we can make it to an outer wall I can get us out.
As you tug on the patch, it comes off easily, transforming into a set of high-quality thieves' tools.
I have such skill.
Taking the tools, Thomas attempts to pick the locks.
Despite the awkward angle, Thomas is able to open his shackles. To one of your skill, these locks are almost childish. Unless of course, you are chained to the wall with no tools.
After having freed himself, Thomas makes his way around the cell, and frees the others.
Thomas whispers to Alexander and Esan, "Catch the madman."
When Thomas gets to Palls, he whispers "Know this, I despise Wizards. If you turn out to be a true wizard, watch yourself. Prove useful, and you'll live.
"Oh, come off it, lad," Palls said standing up properly for the first time in days.
The young man lightly touched the left side of his face. Never!
Hey! What's going on in there! One of the guards stands up and begins stalking towards your cell. Club at the ready and eyes suspicious.
Alexander quickly hands the veil to Thomas and says Take the daggers and give one to the not-wizard.
Alexander then summons a Fiendish Dire Rat and begins screaming hysterically. Help us! Theres a huge rat in here! Help!
Once unshackled, Esan moves to stand near the door to the cell. As soon as anyone opens it, he will attack.
I will wait until everyone has posted and agreed on a course of action before continuing.
Taking the dagger, Thomas placed it behind his back, tucked into the ragged pants he was given. Quickly, he made his way back to his chains and made it look like he was still chained.
"Thank you, boy," Palls said pulling the other dagger patch off the veil. As he focussed on the magically produced but otherwise mundane dagger, an unearthly sheen wrapped itself around it.
ready to go