Vincent rummages through the unlocked chests in the room. In two chests, he finds ink, quill, and a series of letters between two guards of an illicit gambling session tonight at the Eastern Gatehouse , as well as the daily password to get past a gate, HESTERFIELD. He also finds a finely crafted rosewood lute with silvered strings, a number of pointlessly vapid letters between a guard and their family, a set of clothing fit for a peasant, and a surprisingly well written love letter ending in a proposal of marriage to someone named ‘Michelle’ and a silver engagement ring set with a small sapphire.
As Grumblejack lumbers through the door, ducking so as not to hit his head, Albert raises his sword in salute, "May the Lord of Light look kindly upon your wretched soul as you fall, monster!"
Grumblejack punches the guard in the face, clanging against the guard's metal helmet. To the man's credit, he moves well enough that the blow was not instantly fatal, showing remarkable combat prowess.
Albert points to Grumblejack with his sword, "Lord of Light, judge this sinner and cast him from this world into the shadow of death!" As he says this, Albert's eyes glow with a golden light. He then gets closer to the Ogre and slashes with his blade...
his blade biting deep into Grumblejack's flesh. "Come then, beast, is that all you've got?" Albert says, his voice changed into a resonant bass which carries the weight of divine judgement.
Vincent put the ink and quill away in his alchemy bag for now, the letters being tossed back in after a brief read. He took the password and passed it on to to the silent one figuring that Mira probably already knew todays password. The lute was intriguing and at least probably able to fetch a few gold so he slipped it over his shoulder to carry. He wasn't too interested in the clothing or the love letter, but he did pocket the ring for now.
He smiled "Well, the password of the day and a couple of easy marks...I'd say we hit the jackpot. Mira dear, do you know how to get to the Eastern Gatehouse from here....or perhaps if these two even earn enough that we should care?" he asks
Grumblejack stumbles a bit under the blow but is not yet down. The ogre swings again
Green eyes glower with held-back fury. Why place this monster above him? Why place a killer with no loyalty above him?
But Vritra stepped aside, his blood boiling within his chest.
Soon he will prove himself.
Soon he will prove his power.
Miri laughs at Vincent's question, "Of course I know how to get the eastern gatehouse, my memory's not that poor! As for your two 'marks', they're not well-off, but I suppose you could squeeze some gold from them. Grieving families, after all, would pay dearly for any mementos of their loved ones, right?" She looks around the room, as if hearing something, "Huh, sounds like our friends have reached the two stationed in the hall. Care to take a look?"
Grumblejack's punch lands squarely in Albrecht's gut, causing him to double over from the force as he is momentarily knocked an inch or so into the air. He coughs a bit, obviously hit quite hard by the Ogre.
His golden eyes blaze beneath the visor of his helmet. He swing his blade downward in a broad vertical arc...
opening a wide gash across Grumblejack's face, which runs with deep red blood.
As the fight continues, the Northlander known as Jon watches Vritra. He laughs heartily, "I know that look, you're a man that craves the thrill of battle. You know what is it be a warrior, to live and die by the sword, following no code but your own, don't you? If so, I respect that, for the blood and honor are one and the same."
The mighty warrior smashes his massive fist into the face of his opponent.
Vincent nodded at Mira's wise words and took a mental note of them. "I suppose we have check them waiting long enough, it wouldn't hurt to rejoin them at this point" he said smiling as he stood up from his seat on the bed. He put his hands behind his head and began to walk leisurely towards the commotion, giving his friends a bit of time to finish up their fun but trying not to end up falling behind.
Cloak follows silently behind Vincent.
Grumblejack's fist slams into Albert, whose cheekbones makes a sickening cracking noise. The force of the blow knocks him backwards, where he smashes into the ground.
Miri flips her hair casually with one hand at Vincent's comment, "I heartily agree, my scaly friend! I knew you were smarter than you looked!". She playfully punches his shoulder lightly, like they were drinking buddies at some tavern in Ghasterhall.
Grumblejack lets out a roar of fury as he knocks down his enemy, then walks over to his fallen foe and balls up his fist in case a killing blow is necessary. [ooc]His move action for the round
Albrecht groans as tries to recover from being knocked to the ground, "No... no, monster, not yet..." he gasps as he slowly stands.
Grumblejack grins wickedly "I am no monster, but you sir, have lost" With that he smashes him again
The blow lands squarely on Albrecht's chest with a loud *CRUNCH*! He falls back down to the ground, his breathing ragged and laboured. He raises his arm, pointing to the massive Ogre, then to everyone else assembled, "You... *GASPS*... all of you... monsters. This changes... nothing. You're all... *COUGHS* damned. May the Shining Lord judge you all... for your sins! *URK!*" His arm falls to the ground, next to his rapidly rising and falling chest. His breathing is rapid, shallow, and weak, his skin growing paler by the moment.
Veldrin walks over to the fallen guard, and just stands imperiously above him "Perhaps we are damned, and perhaps your Shining Lord will judge us. You will see your god before us, however"
Albrecht's short gasps turn to gurgles and you blood begins to trickle from the sides of his mouth. Suddenly, he falls silent.
Jon reaches down and places Albrecht's sword on his chest, arms crossed over it, "Well, that's that, I suppose. He trusted in his Mitra rather than the strength of his arm. Foolish boy. Brave, but foolish. It's obvious you lot are a bit more capable, otherwise, ya wouldn't have made it past all those numbskulls upstairs! I would like to discuss terms with ya, since all of ya seem to make for... livelier companions and probably have deeper pockets besides, given that pretty young thing that came in earlier for one of ya. I'm getting about tired of drinking all of this cheap swill they pass off as ale, standing around guarding filthy prisoners, no offense, and listening prattle on about the 'Shining One' this and 'Mitra' that. It's enough to make a man sick to his stomach!".
Its now Veldrin's turn to smile evilly "Terms you say? I am all for discussing such things. Pray, tell me what you've got in mind"
Jon looks at Veldrin and draws his blade, running a gauntlet-clad hand over his blade, "Ya see this here? This is my blade.". He pats the nearly-empty coin pouch on his belt, "And this? This is my money pouch. Keep my pouch full of gold and my sword red and wet with blood and I'd say we have an accord. What do ya say?"
Veldin nods in agreement, "I think that's acceptable. Glad to have you on board, Jon"
The blood and gore of a dying man spills on the floor, and Vritra simply smiles. "Marfedelom ihk wer hofibavi." Slowly he steps up to the other one, staring directly at their newfound "ally". "Fools ignore the gods. This man was hofiba, but others who follow will not be such."
Leaving the man to question what the green-eyed Suli had said, Vritra glances over the man.
Jaq gives Grumblejack a celebratory pat on the back. "Excellent. Excellent." With that he reached down marking the paladin with the demon rune of Sifkesh in the center of his forehead.
His dark deed complete for the moment, he looked about the room. He wanted his war razor.
Vincent walked in shortly after hearing the noise start to settle, "Well....looks like I wasn't the only one having fun." he said with a bit of a grin. He looked down at the guard on the floor with the rather curious funeral like arrangement. "It's a shame to leave suck a lovely sword behind in the hands of the fallen." he said as his eyes furrowed a bit in contemplation as he looked around the room judging if anyone would be opposed to him picking it up after such a careful posing.
The room darkens as the Cloaked One enters. Silently perusing the carnage, he nods approvingly.
Jon nods to Veldrin in silent assent.
The Suli looks over Albrecht's corpse for anything of interest. The fallen guard's armor appears to be of finer make than the ones that have been used by the guards thus far and his sword has a faint silvery sheen that can barely be seen dancing up and down the blade, but otherwise nothing seems interesting.
Vincent looks around at the others and nobody seems that upset about the prospect, at least to him. Surely no one would object to relieving a corpse of such a valuable possession?
Vritra kneels beside the corpse, staring at the armour with tilted head and awkward smile. "Litrix may be useful for ve" His hand brushes the silvery sword aside, towards Veldrin, with an odd peacefulness. The Suli's smile widens as he reaches across the man, unbuckling the armour with untrained hands. Perhaps it would be of more use than his own...
Vincent squatted down and picked up the blade that was brushed away. He picked it up and began to look over it carefully, his scaled hands caressing the blade gently as he examined the faint silvery sheen. He gave it a curious lick, smacking his lips a bit as he tried to figure out it's composition.
Jaq surveys the hallway and finds nothing apart from two torched set in iron sconces about halfway down the hallway.
Vritra takes the chain shirt off of Albrecht, sizing up whether he should wear it or not.
Vincent's examination of the item is quite thorough. He tastes the metal, recalling what he learned of testing a metal's composition by what metallic it tastes and how it feels upon the sensitive tongue. Seems to be... steel? But more than steel, judging by the strange thrumming sensation as his tongue ran over the blade. He tries to gauge how much a curiosity such as this would be on the marketplace and whether it may be magical. Given his minimal experience with these things, however, he is unable to determine either.
As he has in the past, Veldrin will try to determine if any of the items are magickal in nature
Veldrin's eyes attune to the arcane. He looks at the chain shirt in Vritra's hand which, sadly, does not glow with eldritch power, fine though its craftsmanship may be. He then looks at the sword, which glows faintly.
Veldrin picks up the sword and examines it quite thoroughly
Veldrin examines the blade, looking at the way the mystical energies swirl around the blade. He slowly turns the blade, looking at different 'layers' of magic. Suddenly, he fixates on one strand of magic and touches it. As he does so, he feels his heart beat stronger and a sense of courage washes over his mind. Discerning the items purpose, he breaks from his intense focus and the intricacy of the magic aura fades back to normal.
The Suli smiles. How similar it was to his own armour? Quite surprising that it was that close.
Turning back to the man, now bereft of his equipment, Vritra's smile disappeared. He looked quite pitiful without his armour or weapon. Wouldn't it be nicer to, well...
Vritra's hands wrapped around the deceased man's neck, staring into his dead eyes with his own lively green ones. "Wer fothisev di wer loex, sini ekess jilg." A sickening sound comes from the bones as hands push down, a sick smile spreading back over his face. What will the others think when they see their wretched captain's head falling, crushed into the gullet of another?
The blood wanted this.
The blood would have this.
Vincent was a bit lost in his thoughts as the blade was pulled from his grasp. He blinked a bit and hissed before seeing who had snatched it from him. He shook his head " It's rude to bother someone in their thoughts..." he said softly "There doesn't seem to be anything interesting of the make, but possibly a bit of magic lying in it given the tingling of my tongue" he said before he stood back up from his stooped position.
He watched a bit with curiosity at what the barbarian of the group was doing, it was certainly a bit on the crude side as far as removing a head from the body...defiantly not the route he would've taken. He shook his head and looked at the new person in the room, eyeing them carefully. There certainly seemed to be more and more humans joining their group, he'd have to watch his back carefully if this kept up.
The Suli tears the corpse's head from from its shoulders with a loud series of *SQUELCHES* and a gush of blood. He holds the head right under the jaw with both of his hands, warm blood flowing over his fingers like fresh paint. It felt right, it felt GOOD.
Grumblejack chuckles a bit, "Oi, that's how you do it, green-eyes! Tear that head clean off! You lot get more interesting by the minute, seems like."
Somewhere nearby, hounds can be heard barking. Miri sighs, [b]"Well now, seems the hounds are up. Worthless mutts... Let's go shut them up for good. Can't have them bringing every last moron down here on our heads, now can we?"
"Well... that would result in more bloodshed" Jaq gave her a small smirk before he moved to the door on the far side of the room, listening at it. If he heard nothing on the other side, he enters. But if he hears something, he'll leave it alone for the moment and move to the other door to listen there.
Jaq listens at both doors that the group has not been through yet. The closest one seems to be empty. Taking this as a good thing, he opens the door. A brass plaque on the door reading 'Sergeant's Office' gleams faintly in the torchlight from the hallway. The room is a plain affair with a single cluttered desk, stacked with papers, and a couple of chairs. On each side of the room, a torch sits ensconced in the wall.
Warily, Jaq entered the room. Before he would search the desk, he checked the other two doors in the room. Listening at each door for any sounds coming from beyond them.
Veldrin looks around the sergeant's office, scanning it for any signs of magic
Vincent would happily begin searching through the desk and office for various intelligence or useful materials.
Vritra, rolling his shoulders in his new chain shirt, looks towards the rest of the group and follows after them. His more gruesome trophy drips a little as he walks over, small splatters all over the floor; though that seems little beside the pool forming at the man's neck. "What about the caex?" Vritra asks, glancing at the odd blade.
Jaq goes to each door, listening for any sounds beyond each door. The rooms beyond are silent, the only sound perceptible is his companions and the barking of the hounds.
Veldrin walks into the room and scans the room for any signs of magic, his eyes attuned to the arcane. He is somewhat disappointed when he sees that there is no glow here in the office.
Vincent quickly rifles through the desk, looking for something which may be useful. In his haste, he almost misses a map labeled Branderscar Prison, which just happens to catch his eye.
Grumblejack looks at Vritra, then at the sword laying on the ground, "Not for me, berk. The only thing I could do with it is use it as a toothpick, eh? One of you lot going to pick it up? It looks awefully shiny, dunnit?"
Vincent's shuffling though the papers, rapidly observing pages, seems to have uncovered something. On the ledgers for guard expenses, his eye catches the numbers and they don't seem quite right. Perhaps he can figure out what's odd, if he has a few minutes to read though the files.