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The guards of Branderscar where trained and prepared for anything. Hidden weapons, mind control, unnatural appendages and verbal abuse. Bobbity had tried the last tactic on the way here and gotten the less mentally prepared to cave. Not enough to get free but enough to make one or two quite. And that was always fun. But now he was in the prison no one had ever escaped...yet.
He could see it in the guards here though. They were getting annoyed. So he just kept smiling that knowing smile. They had seen just about everything but apparently his reputation proceeded him. They were on high alert. It felt good to be appreciated.
"You can stop now. There is nothing to smile about here," said one guard threateningly. Bobbity just looked up and smiled.
"I know you like to test wits against the prisoners but you can't beat this one. He has no wits. Only fools argue with fools," said the other one.
"Awe. You ruined the game."
"Oh you," Bobbity says as if that was the highest praise. "We all strive for greatness. Let him chase clouds. At least it will be fun."
"Yeah, fun. Like all the fun we're going to have with you. Whole days planned out. Even the night. Don't worry though. Best healers in the realm. Keep you awake and healthy for all of it," the first guard says, this time in happy anticipation.
"Ooo. Tactical switch. First intimidation then implied threat of torture. Oh you are going have to step your game my friend. I have already mastered those moves. Have you tried the false escape? Euphoric drugs? Ooo starving then exploding cake is fun." Bobbity begins cackling maniacally while the guards share a look of concern.
"You're right. This ones too far gone," the first guard concedes.
"Damn right," Bobbity says triumphantly.
There is a pause in the conversation. In the ensuing silence there is a sound of breaking glass. Both guards turn to the prisoner who goes rigid. "Uh oh."
Green gas begins to erupt from the halfling's rear as he is propelled a few inches from the ground crying painfully, "Oh god it burns." The gas fills the hall quickly with a foul stench so powerful it has both guards choking and their eyes watering.
The prison's magical wards take affect almost instantly, blowing smoke away. Even still, there was a moment where, if he wanted, Bobbity could have made an attempt on their life or tried to escape. But when the smoke clears, he is scooting around the floor like a dog trying to scratch its butt. "Ah. Oo. Oh. Get in there. Ow. Burns so bad. Bad idea. Never again. Wasn't worth the gag. Stupid Kegal exercises."
The two guards stand up and watch the halfling scoot around for some minutes. "Worst prisoner ever."
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 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, but regardless, you will all face the final judgement. 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?
Squeeze forces his head to lick the chains. The always hungry goblin loves the taste of oxidated metal. Hopefully he will catch another roach today! Crunchy, hmmm!
Rashk keeps calm. Despite being chained, he seems at peace. He leans against the wall as if laying in bed. As he waits, he watches each of the others, the guards and anything that changes.
An unearthly cold emanates from a darkened corner where one of the prisoners sits. The shadows surrounding the man are far deeper than normal, clearly indicating a supernatural origin. Staring out from those shadows are a pair glowing red eyes that seem to pierce the very souls of those who look at them too long.
He is mostly silent, listening, watching, learning, planning. They say Bradenscar is inescapable, but the sun must set, and when it does, Veldrin, master necromancer and lord of shadows will not be so easily bound.
*clink*
"Hehehe"
*clink*
"Hehehe"
*clink*
"Hehehe"
Bobbity, one of the worst disasters ever to sweep through Talingarde, was finding it fantastically amusing to raise his arms, all three of them, in the air and let them fall down. Each cascade of sound brought on a giggle almost exactly the same as the last. And he'd been doing it for hours. It was a wonderfully new experience, having his strength drained away. Active mind, tired body. It felt so deliciously relaxing. So much so that he was ignoring the others completely. Then, quite without warning, he begins to sing.
And it is bad.
Kessa's mind is a swirl of emotions. To be brought here and have her body to be scarred once again. Subjected to the whims of men who do not understand. Why does this always happen to me. I should not even be in here. I'm the victim. After the years of torment at my father's hands, how is it I am guilty of trying to undo the harm he has caused? I am looking for answers! She looks to the others she is chained to. More men. All the crimes they have committed, all the atrocities, and I am strung up here as if I have the same darkness in me...as a DROW! And the braying of this maniacal giggling donkey just won't end!
"As if being here with you all is not punishment enough, shut up!"
"Hey! Keep it down in there or you'll taste my beat-stick!! a guard shouts through the closed door leading into the cell block.
"Ha," Bobbity exclaims. He attempts a kip up from the ground, hoping to point at the woman that spoke. But in his physically drained state all he can do is flop uselessly back on his back with a muffled "Oof." So he settles for a mocking laugh from the ground. "Haha. First to break. Its always the women." He continues to giggle until the guard speaks up at which he shifts to fully cackle. Between breaths he manages to mock the guard too. "Haha...beat-stick...ahahaha...can't hurt that bad with how small it is...hahaha. Oh this place is a riot. Why did I never come here sooner? Hahaha"
He hears the interchange between the halfling and the guard, and whispers his advice, "I suggest not drawing unnecessary beatings. You should be prepared to take advantage of any opportunity fate throws our way. And I do not see her as broken, merely irritated." He then returns to his silent contemplation.
Squeeze smiled for a moment. He was a small and frail creature, yet his teeth were pointy and his head was huge. The perspective of seeing someone being beaten at least would take out a little bit of the dullness of the day. Fun, maybe! Yet, he quickly got distracted again and went back to biting and licking his chain.
"What's that?" Bobbity says, holding his hand to his ear as if trying to hear Rashk better. "You're right. I beat his beat-stick only has one good shot in it before it needs to recharge for half an hour." He then looks over at the guard. "Careful what you hit that with boss. Might catch something nasty in return."
The two pin pricks of baleful red turn to the guard. The voice that emanates from the shadows has a haunting, hollow quality to it. "You talk too much. Like most humans" He practically spat out that last word "That is likely all you are, talk."
Kessa turns a sharp eye toward the half-giant, but realizes he was merely stating a fact. She look softens slightly as she looks at the others in greater detail. She notes that she should be able to speak to any of them, though why she would want to was beyond her. Oddly enough, for reasons she can't explain, Kessa feels comfort radiating from the drow. Looking again to the "..giant?...Half-giant?.. to hard to say chained as we are.." she too tries to meditate. She hears the halfing, noting that the song has turned to a cackle.
"Like a babbling brook," she thinks. Slowly the crazed laughter transforms to a gurgling in the distance, then a background burbling, until she finally finds her center. "There must be a purpose to this. Do not focus on the now, today is a flowing river. Look where the water flows tomorrow. It joins the ocean. Each of us are a single drop in an infinite pool of tomorrows. Be the water, flow over the rock, through the soil. Be fluid, be ready." She unknowingly smiles to herself as she realizes that the hafling's endless stream of ranting has now become her 'endless stream', a place of focus, a way to deal with this madness.
She sighs,"Crap, I may actually need to keep him around, at least until I find myself beyond these walls."
3 of 4 in the room had finally cracked the silence. He didn't count himself as he was never silent...unless he was. And that was always very bad for someone. Bobbity turned to the goblin. He always felt a certain kinship, camaraderie if you will, with the mostly psychotic little fire starters. Enough to even learn the language.
Whether you goblin or not, you clearly hear Beat-stick and see the halfling gesture to the drow in the shadows.
Squeeze turns his red eyes to the halfling. The goblin was distracted and silent so far, but it didn't mean he wasn't psychotic. The goblin giggles.
After drooling a little bit, the Goblin goes back to chewing his chains.
"Just shut up about your beat-stick already! I'm gonna go deal with that tiny noise machine. stay out here..."
The guard enters the block, closing the door behind him. He loosens his keyring as he makes his way to the cell that holds each of you. Taking a few steps within, his form swiftly changes to that of a tall, attractive woman with white hair, pale skin, and dressed in a white gown with a matching veil. She smiles wickedly, surveying each of you before stepping closer to Bobbity.
"Well aren't you the cutest little thing, dearest? Don't worry, I'm here to help. We have a mutual friend that would like to see you free of these bonds."
Her voice is low, soft and tender. Pulling off her veil, she reveals deep crimson eyes. Smiling down at Bobbity, she licks the veil in a corner and uses it to wipe some of the dirt from his cheek before sliding her hand to his and slipping it between his fingertips.
"Talingarde is changing, my dearests, and when its metamorphosis is complete, wouldn't you prefer to be on top instead of in a cell? Find your way from this miserable place and travel five miles due west. There, in a manor in the moors, my Master awaits you."
Stepping backwards until she exits the cell, she resumes the guise of a guard and locks the door.
"Oh and try to be a little more presentable when you get there...." he mutters, walking away without any interest in engaging in further conversation.
As the "guard" slips away, Rashk will nod contently, "Ah, my master mentioned that he knew somebody who also wanted Talingarde defeated."
As used to things not going as planned as he was, Bobbity was at a complete loss for words except for an awed "Hubba Hubba." Guess pretty women were one of his weaknesses. She leaves and he is still standing there, shell-shocked. He turns with a goofy grin on his face, starring down at the veil she gave him. "The gods favor the fools," he says. Then he turns to the others. "Who wants to be the first to break out of the best prison on the island?"
"It would be good to stretch my legs again." he says. "And my blade thirsts for vengeance."
Kessa whispers to the halfling,"I don't suppose she slipped you a key or a pick or anything." Looking toward the half-giant, "Otherwise your blade may remain thirsty. I would welcome the opportunity to leave this place, but if I...we...escape unaided, I see no reason to pay tribute or bend a knee to others. What say you?"
"Huh?" Bobbity says looking perplexed. At the time Kessa asks about the veil he is blowing it into the air repeatedly to see if he could keep it. Hehehe. Keep it up.
Squeeze looks at the strange scene with interest. Finally, without even trying to pretend differently, he speaks back to the halfling.
Smallshanks and Squeeze friends already! You know, Squeeze never ate too many pink skinned short men. Squeeze usually identifies easily with smallshanks!
He blinked his red eyes before continuing.
Did false guard gave you a way to get out of manchains? Maybe pink friend has plan? - his eyes went to Kessa - ... Or maybe pale female longshanks has ideas? You speak hard!
His speech was interrupted when his attention was caught by what he thought was a brown roach.
As Bobbity's gaze met the veil, he noticed a two small patches sewn into the center of the garment. One seemed to be in the shape of a satchel, and though cloth, glinted as if it were made of gold. The other was unmistakably shaped like a set of tools that Bobbity would be all too familiar with using.
Bobbity starts singing again, seemingly for no reason. He pulls off the patches on the veil, the bag first, tossing it to the side, then the tools. He then begins working slowly and meticulously, a grin on his face, looking up periodically to watch the guards. The terribly high pitched song hides the clink of shackle and tool.
Once the amusing little halfling is free, Veldrin motions him over "Be so kind as to release me next. My magicks are suppressed by these shackles and it is high time Death came to Talingrad"
Having waited this long, a few more minutes are nothing. Once he is released he steps out, floating a few inches over the filthy floor. A blade of pure red light, finely focused hatred, springs forth from his hand. He leaps up, twisting in the air to stand on the ceiling.
He also focuses for a moment, causing a slight distortion to surround him, which then fades from view. Shortly thereafter he begins blending in with the ceiling.
"I am ready." he says softly.
Kessa tries to hide her impatience. "Thank you," she offers to the halfling, trying to avoid as much physical contact as possible. Resigning herself to the fact that she will need to work with these men. "I am called Kestrel. How would you like to be addressed?" she asks. Eager for answers and a chance at freedom, she crosses to the bag and looks at the contents.
Bobbity finds little resistance in undoing the restraints, hastily freeing himself and the others. Inspecting the bag, Kessa finds five more veils similar to the one the mysterious woman left with Bobbity. The veils are covered with patches, and each appears to be attuned to a different individual, sparkling with gold as the intended user gazes at it. The equipment harvested from the patches is highly customized, fitting perfectly to your grip, figure, and tastes.
-A Bag of Holding IV, Filled with "mundane goodies"
-A small, mithral-adamantium alloy box, colored in red and black. Within are high quality materials that cover all your alchemy needs.
-Two impressive blades, one fashioned from mithral, the other adamantium. The hilts are bound with black cloth.
-A chainshirt, black as the night itself, with the unholy symbol of Asmodeus linked in silver on the inside. This items begins as a +2 Mithral "X" Chainshirt. The following abilities are applied to it:
As a standard action, the user may add a special material to the Chainshirt, filling the "X" noted above. Only one special material may be added at a time. Whatever selection is made must be able to be applied to a base chainshirt.
The chainshirt weighs less than one pound, has no armor check penalty, no arcane spell failure, and no max dexterity bonus.
The user may select one element at the beginning of the day and be immune to all damage from that source. This may not be changed for 24 hours.
The user receives points to modify the armor, starting at one point at 5th level and an additional every three levels thereafter. (Similar to the Paladin's Divine Bond). The bonuses are applied at the beginning of each day and may not be changed until the next. Points may be spent augmenting the base item to a maximum of five, or by adding special qualities to the item.
-A stretch of cloth with ten ornate shurikens tucked into it. They are cool to the touch.
-A greater monkey belt
-A MW Alchemy Crafting Kit
-A silver rope dart
-A shadowy veil, with the unholy symbol of asmodeus sewn into the corner. It can worn as a veil or rolled into a headband. the veil confers the following bonuses:
+6 to Intelligence and Wisdom
Increases the range of a Dhampirs darkvision to 120 feet.
The user ignores Light Sensitivity.
The veil stores 50 charges of inflict critical wounds. Twice per day, this may be cast quickened, empowered, and maximized. The veil recovers 1/2 charge per day, or can be recharged as a wand.
The veil converts positive energy the user is subjected to into negative energy.
The user gains DR/Evil equal to half their HD.
The user gains spell resistance equal to 10+HD.
-A wayfinder with a clear spindle ioun stone.
-A belt of incredible dexterity +4
-A spectacular amulet, fashioned in the unholy symbol of Asmodeus, the amulet itself is transparent, created from thin, crystalline tubes with blood pumping through it.
-A headband of inspired wisdom +4
-A feather-light tome, bound in high quality full grain leather, with the unholy symbol of Asmodeus branded into the front and ancient runes embroidered in gold along the sides. This magical tome servers many purposes: Though it seems to be only 200 pages in thickness, whenever it is opened it always displays the Arcane spell the user needs. The user can not access a spell beyond his highest casting level in this manner. The user may cast from this book as if using a scroll of his own caster level, sacrificing his own spell slot instead of removing the spell from the book, but may not apply metamagic when doing so. The book satisfies the needs of the onyx component for the spell Animate Dead, and has 400 charges. Each HD of undead created consumes one charge. Charges may be replenished by sacrificing human souls once per week (restores 1d10 charges), the victims corpse is completely consumed and can not be raised or returned from means other than wish or true resurrection. The tome grants its user a +4 to all mental abilities. This bonus increases to +5 at level 14 and +6 at level 18.
A headband of inspired wisdom +4
A gruesome, nearly transparent mask fashioned from diamond and crystal, the leather straps used to fasten it to your head are branded with the unholy symbol of Asmodeus.
This mask functions as a crystal mask of dread, with the added following abilities:
-It functions as a power point capacitor with a maximum capacity equal to 1/2 the users HD.
-It allows the user to quicken three 1st to 3rd level powers a day. At 14th level, 1st-6th level powers may be quickened, and at level 18, any power may be quickened.
-It grants the user +1 resistance bonus, plus an additional one per five character levels to a maximum of +5.
-Confers a +5 competence bonus on perception.
Once Veldrin is free, the necromancer picks up the veil and discovers the tome. He then grins an evil smile. "This should help us find our possessions, should they still be intact and within the prison" He turns his dread gaze to Kestrel. "I am Veldrin, Lord of Undead and Master of Shadows."
He drops his voice to a whisper "We should attempt to ambush the lone guard. Perhaps a ruse to trick him into thinking we're still locked up and one of us has fallen ill?"
He turns to Kestrel and bows his head to her. "I am pleased to meet you. I am Rashk." Despite the restriction on magic, he still forms his blade. He keeps his voice low. "I suggest that we escape the cell and then take the guards out."
As Kessa rolls the veil up and ties it into her hair,"Veldrin, I fear that these men would show little concern for an ill convict they planned to kill in a few days time anyway, especially with four more prisoners to place on display. I think Rashk may have the right idea. The question is how to do it quietly.
Kessa moves looks to Veldrin and says in undercommon,
"My powers lie in augmenting and commanding the undead, and slaying the living. I do not possess normal channeling, but I do know spells that harm those alive and heal my favored minions"
"Eeee," Bobbity squwees as he opens his bag. "I love Axmas." He sifts through for a moment even burying his head and upper torso in the bag. A cascade of mumbles comes from the sides. Eventually he pops back out pulling on what appears to be the upper portion of a small chair. Unfortunately, the size of the opening prevents it from coming out. "What the?" Bobbity's head disappears back in the bag. He pops back looking incredulous. "Their's a whole dinner set in here. How'd they get it in there? Did they build it in there? That's...fantastic," he says back to shit-eating grin. "Why did I never think of that? She knows me so well. I think I'm in love."
He then fishes out the chainshirt. "Ooooooo." Then he sees the symbol on the inside. "Ugh. Ass-modeus. Never mind. I am so over her." Even as powerful as the item appeared to be he loathed to put it on. "Lawful. It buuuurns."
He drops his voice to a whisper "We should attempt to ambush the lone guard. Perhaps a ruse to trick him into thinking we're still locked up and one of us has fallen ill?"
"Cliche."
"I suggest that we escape the cell and then take the guards out."
"Boring. Oh." Finding an idea. Bobbity hops into the bag up to his head. And that appears to be it. He sits there, body in the void of a pocket dimension while his head rests close to the floor. "Imagine walking into the cell and seeing all of us like this."
The free Squeeze collects his items and adorns whatever he can. Finally, he smiles and run around the cell on his four, like an animal, until finally he stops by a corner. His big eyes look around and he happily shows his teeth to the other, completely dirty.
Squeeze thanks for freedom! - he says, creepy - Squeeze is hungry.
He looks to each one, as if studying them.
I'm Squeeze. Squeeze Bits. Squeeze hungry, but Squeeze won't eat small pink, juicy, tasty, delicious friend, today! - he looks at Bobbity, drooling a little bit, but quickly corrects himself - Squeeze means, Squeeze won't eat friends, ever! Squeeze loyal and thankful. But Squeeze hungry! Where are the guards now?
He stays sitting on the corner. He's obviously fairly savage and even his common sounds hard to understand.
"Asmodeus is getting us free of execution. I assume that he'll want something from us. Likely involving opposing Talingarde and Mitra. He says, focusing his rage. "At least getting out of the cell so we can use our other powers would be best."
Bobbity looks around at all the people not following his plan and sighs. He climbs out of the bag. It leaps to his shoulders forming a cloak and spiked pauldrons. "What the?" the halfling says, spinning a few times to try and see what just happened. He looks a lot like a dog chasing his tale. When he finally catches it, he looks impressed. "Oooooo. Shiny." He pauses a moment, listening as people introduce themselves, then decides those names aren't good enough.
"Sunny." He points at Veldrin.
"Great Bald Turd." He points at Rashk.
"Tits." He points at Kessa.
"...Squeeze Bits." He points at Squeeze Bits. Honestly he couldn't come up with something better than that. And the look in the Goblins eyes made him consider a new plan. He approaches the door, a tool appearing in each of his three hands.
Once the door is open he says with a flourish, "Release the Squeeze."
Wincing as she hears the halfling assign names, Kessa lets out a short sigh and addresses the rest of the team,"Can we not kill the braying donkey yet? He seems 'touched', and certainly cannot hold his tongue, but he has been useful." She then turns toward the halfling and drops to one knee and clasps her hands,"Look my little babbling brook, rattling around in that head of yours is the knowledge you need the rest of us to escape, otherwise you would have left us all chained up. Now you have a choice: you can stop letting every thought trickle out of your mouth as soon as it drips into your head and we can get out of here, or you can continue to be dangerously verbal. I promise you this, if you pick the second, we will become even more boring than we are now. I ask you, what fun could a jail break be with a bunch of boring partners?
She looks to Veldrin and says in undercommon