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?
Rosa is Tiefling, there is no mistaking that, but also her oddly White Metallic and Animated, hair, there is now wind in this cell yet it moves as if out in the open, Her hear is like her, Skin with its just as odd Steel metallic sheen, some how alive yet dead, but then if one looks close one get to the thing that marks her out as just down right freakish, her eyes, her steel ball eyes, two reflective orbs that should in this world be eyes, yet there they are where eyes should be. She seems to have an unearthly grace is just as unsettling some would think.
May be not the ones in this cell of death with her, but others of fainter hart.
Rosa has ties her best to get lest painful posture, sense she was bragged into the cell from the inquisitors black mariah, she has spent time thinking of a means to get out, but there is none.
Soon she knows the fire will come and even with her pit blood they will take her back to the Hell's. Her eyes look at the others in the cell, and then beyond, the shadows of the souls lost to this place move and shift, echos of the doomed here. She has taken the time to learn what the guards do but its of little use. Unless one of the ones in here can craft a means to get the chines off, the door open and the Guards dead, then what use is knowing what they do.
She looks from one to the other, of the ones in the cell with here, seeking in this world and another any thing that may offer a means out of the doom.
She knows should she get out some will die, she will see there souls drift from there body's as she has the countless times she has taken life. Starting with the Guards who has ruffed her up, they will know what its like to look into her eyes from the after life as they fall down into the the land of shadows.
Cyx, A non-decript man no unusal features save only one; His head apparently forcibly shaved, as evident by the cuts and scars about his scalp.
Cyx has been here for several days at the least those that have been here as long know the story. His once long and styled black hair, his attempt to hide a tool to pick a lock, the discovery and the punishment.
Cyx now bears the scars of that feeble attempt.
Life of hard labor, Ha, that all I've known, hard labor, still better than some of these others, I will escape someday
A tall, young Chelaxian man with shoulder length jet black hair, examines his restraints. After a short while, he whips his head back to get the hair out of his face, revealing the old scar that covered his entire left cheek.
Looking around the cell he sees those who are imprisoned with him. He sees signs of abuse on the strange looking female, probably from the guards.
Animals. I don't care if she is a prisoner, she should be treated with respect.
He looked at the fresh brand on his right arm, and smirked.
Compared to what that wizard did to me years ago, that was cake.
His thoughts drifted back to those long years ago, when he attempted to defend another woman's honor.
Ember slumps against her restraints as she mutters curses in both common and foreign language . She appears to be a slender young woman of slightly shorter than average height. It's hard to tell in the dim light of the cells, but her skin appears to have a pinkish tinge to it. Almost as if she somehow suffers from a faint sunburn in this dismal pit. Her hair appears streaked in several shades of reds and oranges, resembling a fire and her overly large eyes are a dark amber in color.
A black dwarf with a bald pate tattooed with remnants of Asmodean and Infernal symbols stands stone still in the chains. Dried blood and scabs mar his scalp where someone defaced the unholy marks. His once proud full black beard is tangled and torn. Whole patches are missing where guards obviously worked to pull objects loose and ripped out anything they couldn't remove. Dark eyes stare straight ahead into the black. The most remarkable thing is that he hasn't moved since standing when he returned from unconsciousness. In spite of the hopelessness and humiliation, something sustains him.
Coming out of his train of thought, the young man shook his head and began to examine his restraints again. After about a minute, he looks to the floor around him.
A young looking human male sits in the cell and broods. Something seems to weigh on him but he says nothing and doesn't look at anyone else. He just stares at the floor.
I wish they would just kill me and get this over with.
Rosa turns her head to the Black dwarf seeing the unholy marks for the 1st time, to him she says.
whisper "Брат котловану, я Rosa Luminess, Клерік з на Господа і майстер лінійки в пекло, яка доля приносить принести вам до язичників місце?"
"Brother of the pit, I am Rosa Luminess a cleric of our lord and master ruler of the Hell's, what fate brings you to the heathen place may I ask?"
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The dwarf spits in the direction of the cell door, nearly managing to reach it. The black eyes continue to focus unerringly forward and for a long minute you think he won't answer. Then he whispers in response. His voice is haunting, deep and dark and you hear in it the rumble of old stones grinding together in black places under the earth. "Вони думають, що зламати мене. Дурнів. Сонце не ламати камінь. Ці м'які мешканців поверхні повинні були вбити мене вже. Їх помилка."
"They think to break me. Fools. Sun does not break stone. These soft surface dwellers should have killed me already. Their mistake."
Rosa says in a low voice to the sold stone of a Dark Dwarf.
"Як flaming булава з на майстер я бачу, що ви не стояти сломанной, як вони гальмо, речі, ковані у вогонь. Вони дурні думати таких і дурень, розповідаючи овець біль і вогонь пекло wile викладання нічого з пекла лінійки, такі невігластва. Я хотів би бачити ви розбити таких дурнів. Як молоток Кузня, якщо тільки ми могли б отримати з цього cesspit клітинки."
"Like the flaming mace of our master, I see you stand not broken, how can they brake things forged in fire. They are fools to think such and fool, telling sheep of the pain and fire of hell, wile teaching nothing of Hell's ruler, such ignorance. I would see you smash such fools, Like hammer on forge, if only we could get out of this cesspit of a cell."
Thomas, without stopping his searching, whispered his reply.
"Я працюю над цим, дай мені час."
Rosa coughs, you can see shes been put though the mill, she holds still for a moment until the coughing stops, then with some effort holds her head up, looking at the others in turn, wile doing this says says in a steady voice, not to loud so the guard outside can here.
"what brings you to this doom my fellows, I ask because some here think we should not stay to meet it, that being I think all our which the question then becomes how?"
her strength gone for the moment her head falls
"As I said, working on it," the young man replied in low tones. After a little bit longer, Thomas asks, "So do you happen to know which 'guards' decided to make you a punching bag?"
Before Rosa's question could be answered, a commotion is heard at the gate door. A group of six guards, heavily armed and ready for trouble, come into the cell led by a fat well-dressed sergeant of the watch. Everyone recognizes Sergeant Tomas Blackerly. This was the man who held the brand that marked each of you.
Sergeant Tomas Blackerly points at Thomas Glint.
“You there! That’s the scum! Get ‘em unshackled. If any of you makes trouble, they’ll earn a thrashing! 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. Now step lively. We wouldn't want to keep her waiting.”
Thomas is unchained and is escorted roughly to a meeting room down the hall and shoved into a chair. There waiting for them 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.”
As soon as the guards leave, the woman's demeanor immediately changes. She drops all pretense of grief or concern. She is immediately all business.
“Have you forgotten me, dearest?” the unexpected visitor says with a smirk, dropping her pretense of grief. “Call me Tiadora. We possess a mutual friend who would like to meet you and your fellow cell-mates. Unfortunately, our friend is unwilling to visit you in your present rather shabby accommodations so it seems you must escape. Don’t be so dour. Just because it’s never been done before is no reason you can’t be the first."
“If you manage that, cross the moors on the outskirts of town. On the old Moor Road you’ll see a manor house with a single lantern burning in the second story. There our mutual friend waits. That is all I know. He did want me to give you this.” She takes off her silken veil and wipes away a few fake tears with it.
“Something to remember me by, dearest.”
Rosa just looks at the group of six guards and the fat sergeant.
"Fine lady, is that some sick joke, do they mean to put him in the Iron maiden?"
Scum is it? That's it, you're first.
There's something off here, but I can't put my finger on it.
Thomas accepts the veil, bows his head respectfully, and says, "Thank you, milady. I shall not forget."
Looking at the veil, then at the woman, he can't help but wonder. Why are there images of such things on this veil? 'Have you forgotten me'? She can't possibly be.... His thoughts trailed off from there.
Her message delivered, she rises and the guards return. Immediately, her demeanor once more changes and she is again a perfect picture of grief. “No, I can’t bear to leave you!” She gives Thomas a kiss on the cheek. The kiss is ice-cold and feels somehow alien and inhuman.
Tomas shakes his head. “I’m afraid it’s time, miss.”
She looks deep in Tomas’ eyes and says, “Thank you for letting me say good-bye. There’s no need to search my dearest. You are such a good friend for letting me see my dearest one more time.”
“Such a good friend,” Tomas repeats his voice almost mechanical. Then the watch sergeant seems to snap out of it and bows politely. “A pleasure, madam,”
She leaves unveiled. Her eyes meet Thomas one last time and she briefly gives him a wicked smile. “Three days,” telepathically echoes in the his mind. “Don’t disappoint me, dearest”. The visitation concluded, Thomas is taken back to his cell by a cadre of guards and shackled once more.
Rosa looks at the young man with the scare,
"He dos not look like hes been harmed? what is going on"
To the scared man she says,
"Did they not beat you this time, they must be getting soft, as for who beat me, why the fat chubby sergeant and all the time with a smile on his fat face, you know I have a feeling he may get some kind of gratification from seeing others in pain, a weakness I could use if I was not changed to a wall. It is good to see you not harmed, and you where saying."
She waves the chains soundlessly.
"Any luck?"
At the sound of Rosa's voice Kasim will look over at her and watch. He remains silent.
When the fat man comes in Kasim watches him with cold mean eyes.
What would any of them want with any of us? Maybe one of them has better friends than I do.
When they return Thomas to the cell Kasim keeps a close eye on the fat guard.
Fatty will get his turn. I will be the one to do it. Maybe hang him up by his entrails? Or a musket at close range and take off one limb at a time. Yeah.
The telepathic message snapped him back to reality. What the..? He thought.
-------
Back in the cell
-------
"No, I actually had a visitor." And a strange one at that.
Upon hearing that the sergeant seemed to take pleasure in beating women, Thomas looked at the Tiefling with utter hatred in his eyes. "Oh now he's really at the top of my list. No woman deserves to be beaten by an animal like that."
The young man took a deep breath and continued, "As for getting out of here, the cell is clean. However," Thomas lets part of the veil fall from his hand. "Somehow I have the feeling this may come in handy."
Cyx remains silent eyeing each of the guards, looking them over signs of weaknesses.
that seargent, probably not much of a challenge, need to deal with the thugs first though
after Thomas leaves. a visitor, interesting, seems someone may still have a contact on the outside
could be to my advantage, will have to convice this Glint fellow to trust me Cyx continues his schemes to plan some means to either escape or better his situation.
after Thomas' return it seems an oppurtunity has arrived So...Thomas is it?... a visitor you say. I can only assume that there are those ouside these walls that have need of your services. and should such people have influence, than I would like to offer my services to you. I am called Cyx, and I am at your service.
Cyx regarding Thomas like lobbyist regards a polititian.
a means of release is your game than perhaps I could be of additional services outside of these wall to you, as well as in your escape. that is you plan no doubt
Cyx patently awaits Thomas' response to his offer of a partinarship.
"Escape from this place doesn't seem very likely, though I would make the attempt given half a chance. I'd rather risk death from the guards than be burned alive while that damn judge still lives."
And these 'people' call themselves righteous?
"Plans are of little use without knowledge. Does anyone happen to know the layout of this place?"
What is he playing at I wonder?
"Well, I didn't exactly go quietly along with the guards after my arrest. I was bound with a hood over my head for a bit 'cause they were scared of my casting any spells on them."
Thomas' head snapped towards the other female in the cell, "Spells? You're not a Wizard are you?"
Ember gives a little snort of contempt at Thomas's question. "Oh please. My talents are more innate than those posers. I am a sorceress with an affinity for fire."
After Ember finished her statement, you hear a loud commotion from the guardpost. You hear as keys are turned into the door leading to the cells. Two guards step through, one with a hooder lantern pointed towards the cells. The second guard raps a baton upon the cell.
"Keep it down in here!!" He grumbles roughly. The guard with the lantern takes a quick scan of everyone to make sure they are all secured and quiet before the head back the way they came, locking the door behind them.
@Thomas Glint "O Yes Blackerly and his fast sweaty hands, A mine who likes to get up-close and personal with his 'interrogations' I would like it very much if you had the chance to give me his hands, minis of course the rest of him."
At the slash of some thing Glient has she things as the others talk.
What could he have there?
Then as Ember talks and the guards come, Rosa never takes her eyes off Ember, when the guards head off back from where they came she whispers.
@Ember - "You'er a Sorceress of fire, how interesting, I am a cleric of fire, a cleric of the Hell's to be precise, Rosa Luminess is my name and I think you can guess why I am here"
After the guards leave, Thomas asks Rosa with a grin on his face, "What would you pay for his hands?"
Turning back to Ember, he continues, "Good thing you're not a wizard, otherwise, I'd kill you." His show that he is deadly serious. "Anyway, care to have a look at this? I suspect there is more to it than meets the eye."
If my 'visitor' is any indication. He thought.
As best he can, the young man passes the veil to Ember. Then introduces himself to the group, "Oh, by the way, the name is Glint. Thomas Glint."
@Thomas "Asking a cleric of Asmodeus to be in your debt, now that's a 1st, most would do any thing but have that. As for the hands we shall see, get them and we can talk more, looking at the others few here can heal the flesh as I can, and Blackerly I have such plans for Blackerly."
"My name's Ember. Have you got reason to think your visitor wanted to see you get out of this place?"
Three days. Echoed in his head. I have a suspicion or two, yes. He whispered back.
Cyx remained quiet realizing Thomas appeared to have no inerest in a partnership. Perhaps He has intersts in other things He contemplates looking to the ones he does have interest in partnering with.
a deal with a demoness a cost much higher than I would pay... but to each his own
Cyx looks to the remaining prisoners looking for signs of activity, of schemeing of escape.
Kasim takes a careful look around the cell and the jail in general (with what he can see) and takes note of where everything is and if there is anything of use.
Thomas, you are, with a bit of difficulty, able to hand the veil to Ember.
Ember, you are unable to determine what the item is other then it being magical. However your knowledge of arcana suggests that this veil might be hiding something within itself. In fact you notice that the symbol of Asmodeus upon the center of the veil has a loose thread and looks like it can be torn off with relative ease
Rosa looks at the others and with dark vision tries to spy what they are handing to each other.
Also GM did Rosa spot any thing in the Ethereal Plane around here.
Thomas, I see you may not be interested in a pertnership but I can share with you what I do know of this place.
Cyx looks about for signs of activity from the guards, seeing that it is still safe to converse in hushed tones.
This place has a reputation of never having an escape. but such reputations tend to be their downfall. people tend to become laxed when they have never been challenged. we could use this to our advantage
All I ask is that you include me in any plans of escape you may have. What say you Mr. glint?
"Well, it looks like your visitor managed to smuggle you a magical veil with a rather prominent symbol of Asmodeus upon it. I'm quite surprised it wasn't confiscated from her. There also appears to be a loose thread in the embroidery for the symbol. A bit odd cosidering the condition of the rest of the veil. It could be a trigger to reveal something magically hidden by the veil."
"Wise word, sir. You can come, but don't fall behind. We're probably going to get one shot at this, so let make it count."
"In that case, give it here. I have a thought." His mind remembering one image in particular.
"I'll try."
Ember tries to pass it back to Glint.
Upon receiving the veil back, Thomas carefully picks at the thread of the image left of the star.
At Ember comment about the symbol of Asmodeus Rosa perks up.
Whisper "Well, well, well, even here he hand moves"
Rosa looks up at the roof of the cell and to no one there says
"Hes ways are many and to number-us to count, so are the plans of the lord and master of the Hell's",
Then looking back at Glint
"If this has been given you Thomas Glint, then he has plans for you and so I feel us all. The dark dwarf here is of Asmodeus faith, In Ember I see fire. The wise human who sees reputation become weakness if taken and even the silent human, whos eyes are keen. All here have use to do the impossible, that is, escape the inescapable and it sounds a lot more fun than waiting for death in chians.
Life seems to have come back to the cleric, the spark of faith shines in eyes that see beyond.
"There is someone in the cell near us. I can hear them breathing." Kasim says and points in the direction of the sound.