Demlin latches the ladder so Hel can climb down easily. She then follows Hel down the ladder.
Demlin is being botted, but since going down to confront Blackerly is exactly the kind of thing that would trigger Initiative, I started Initiative. If a situation is clearly going to be a fight, even when you've pre-planned what to do, I'll roll and put the group into Initiatives. It's just how I handle things.
Gallen swings at Blackerly but misses his mark as a bit of soot gets into his eye.
Nodding courteously to Demlin, Hel climbs down the ladder, quickly analyzes the situation, then moves with smooth rapidity across the floor to try to put herself behind Blackerly and make him split his attention by worrying about what she might do.
... don't think that's gonna do it. :P :) *braces for the pain*
Wesh grits his teeth at Blackerly's blow. The fighter's in bad shape. If Blackerly put that kind of hurt on him consistently, Wesh is afraid he'll find himself on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
He draws back his greatsword before swinging it at Blackerly in a wide arc. This might be his only chance. He hopes he makes it count.
Nodding courteously to Demlin, Hel climbs down the ladder, quickly analyzes the situation, then moves with smooth rapidity across the floor to try to put herself behind Blackerly and make him split his attention by worrying about what she might do. As she goes to move past him, her tumble isn't quite quick enough, and Blackerly lashes out with his blade.
Blackerly's sword bites deep into Hel's side, and she feels the pain throughout her body.
Wesh grits his teeth at Blackerly's blow. The fighter's in bad shape. If Blackerly put that kind of hurt on him consistently, Wesh is afraid he'll find himself on the ground in a pool of his own blood. He draws back his greatsword before swinging it at Blackerly in a wide arc. This might be his only chance. He hopes he makes it count. His sword swings true and bites deep into Blackerly's thigh, but the man doesn't go down.
Gallen swings at Blackerly but misses his mark as a bit of soot gets into his eye.
Cole takes a moment to study the man, realizing it will be tough to hit him with an arrow while fighting and heavily armored Cole speaks some divine words as a small bit of acid jets forward splashing on Blackerly.
Blackerly drops his sword and falls to his knees, crying, "Mercy, mercy! Please, don't kill me! I'll do anything!"
Cole takes a moment to study the man, realizing it will be tough to hit him with an arrow while fighting and heavily armored Cole speaks some divine words as a small bit of acid jets forward splashing on Blackerly.
Gallen steps on Blackerly's fallen sword but knew others wanted vengeance for more than he did. "I will leave you to the mercy of your other wards."
The slash by Blackerly does a number (and then some) on Hel, and she ends her move by sliding to the ground, holding her side tightly. Her bow tumbles off to one side, and despite her arm pressed against her waist, blood seeps readily into the clothing gained from the veil. "Ow," says she almost conversationally, kneeling there and holding quite still indeed, looking sideways without moving her head as she hears Blackerly's wail. "Bind him," she suggests/orders. "And ... I could use a bit of help, here, when someone gets the chance. A ... mmmph. Wrap. Would be good."
Wesh swings his blade toward Blackerly, intending to end the miserable man's life. The end, oh so satisfying. The fighter can picture it now. So much blood. The ecstasy of it all is almost too much for Wesh to contain.
And yet, at the last possible second, Wesh stays his blade. It hovers inches from the man's neck. Wesh presses it against the side of Blackerly's neck, pressing hard enough to draw a tiny bit of blood.
Wesh isn't ready to bind Blackerly yet. He's not even sure he believes he actually stopped his swing, but he must have since Blackerly yet lives.
Leaning in close to the man's face, Wesh says, "Anything, you say? Then grovel. Grovel before me and the others. Beg for your life."
Wesh has no intention of leaving the man alive, but for his companions' sake, he's willing to delay his gratification for a bit. As soon as they know everything Blackerly does, Wesh won't hesitate. He'll finish his swing.
Cole approaches the injured woman Hel
"There. Finish up things here. We need to separate ourselves from this place."
Cole having no further business climbs back up the ladder and awaits the others to finish up.
Hel hears someone approaching behind her, but doesn't turn her head before someone is there, pressing their hand against her side, murmuring blasphemous prayers to Asmodeus. The sudden burning agony of the healing makes her scream as every muscle in her entire unmoving body strains with tension in reaction to the infernal healing.
Gasping for breath as the hand lifts away, she stays on her knees for a long moment, panting, staring at the arrow slit in the front wall of the ex-fortress prison, then slowly bows down to thump her forehead against the stone floor. "... thank you," she manages to eke out after Cole says his piece and starts back to the ladder.
Taking a moment more to recover, she finally rises, fingertips pushing at her still-tender side. Turning back towards the tableau of Wesh and Blackerly, she grimaces, shakes her head, then glances to the side. Stepping around the table, she eyes the collapsed guard, then gives him a (nonlethal) kick to the head to ensure herself that he's going to stay down until she can get around to dealing with him -- and because not killing him immediately may give Blackerly the wrong impression. She crouches down (giving a wince as she does), and using an arrowhead starts a slice that will tear a good long strip of cloth out of the man's tunic.
Once that's acquired, she rises and comes around the table, moving behind the kneeling Blackerly and dragging his hands down behind him while Wesh has his sword at the man's throat. After tying his wrists together behind him, she starts to frisk him, removing everything she finds -- belt pouch, belt, dagger, keys, necklace, bracelet, everything -- then asks the man, "Do you have any healing magic available? Potions, anything like that?"
If it's needed ...
And Hel's CMB is a +3, or +5 for Grapple, so the DC for Blackerly's Escape Artist would be a 23 or 25.
Also, did Grumblejack come down the ladder?
Blackerly looks up at Wesh, naked fear in his eyes as he says, "Please, don't kill me! Please! Surely a mighty warrior of your reputation can find in him some small mercy for a man who's just trying to do his job and make a living. I'm no threat to you, just please let me live. I have gold - a lot of gold, back in my quarters. I'll tell you where to find it, just promise that you won't kill me."
Hel, you find Blackerly has on him the master key ring - keys to every door in the prison. You also find what is likely the key to the lockbox he had hidden under his bed. There is a discarded vial nearby that appears to contain the last dregs of some liquid or other.
masterwork longsword
chainmail
30 gp
key ring
sergeant's uniform
He's wearing the chainmail and the uniform, so you'll have to strip him if you want those.
"I had a potion, but I drank it after you set the fire down here. We don't have a stock of such in the prison anywhere - we don't usually need them."
Behind the table is the last living guardsman in the room, but he is burned all over, skin blackened and charred, exposing bone in places, coughing hideously. He's hardly any kind of threat.
Scattered about the room is the equipment from the fallen guards - that which survived the flames, anyway.
5 x chain shirt
5 x heavy steel shield
5 x longsword
"Anyone else have anything for healing? Wesh looks a little shaky; thank Abadar for chain mail." Stripping off Blackerly's swordbelt and scabbard, she rises and eyes the blade under Sir Gallen's foot, then holds the scabbard and belt out to him and says, "Looks like it might be time for you to trade up, Sir Gallen. And I think you might want to offer Cole the sword you now wield; all the stories say there's a special meaning in that. Don't know if it'll actually ..." She waves a hand vaguely in the air. "Mean anything to him, but it doesn't hurt to try."
Collecting most of the coins off the floor, she eyes the double handful, then gives Blackerly a long look. "We already have your gold, sergeant. And you aren't trying to make a living; you're trying to make a retirement, at the expense of your men." She goes back around the table again, looking down at the charred, lung-seared soldier. "I wish -- I really wish -- you could trade places with this fellow." With a sustained effort, wincing at the tenderness in her side, she slides the table away so that Blackerly can see the burned man. "Because his agony is in part your fault, Tomas. If there'd been more men, we never would have gotten past that first room; if you hadn't been fvcking them all over, we never would have gotten out of our chains."
Hel shakes her head, then sinks to her knees at the luckless guard's head. "So this is the mercy we are dispensing today." She bends down to murmur into the man's ear, "Rach gu do dhia," then gives his head a sharp and thorough twist, to break his neck.
Lifting her gaze from the now-lifeless guard, she stares at Blackerly for a long moment, to hold his gaze. "Unlike this man, you, Tomas Blackerly, will undoubtedly be a toy for demons. Wesh Meloi, please execute the criminal before you -- and may doing so bring you the greatest of pleasure."
Hel is giving the man the coup de grace; I expect a roll isn't going to be necessary, but if it is:
And if she can use Intimidate to keep Blackerly from botching his own execution ...
Gallen picks up ones of the soot stained guards swords. "There is meaning in taking that which is earned too. Besides I like having back ups." He hands it hilt first towards Cole.
"I wont say no to the blade. Wesh might do well with his armour, though if he says no I'd be quite happy to use it."
For once, Wesh smiles at Hel. "Happy to oblige, and the pleasure is indeed mine."
Wesh pushes Blackerly to the ground with his foot, pinning the man's tied arms behind him. He says to the man, "Whatever you suffer, Blackerly, it's not nearly enough. Still, perhaps you will be among the first to set an example for a new Talingarde, one which worships Asmodeus."
The fighter leans down close to Blackerly's face. Wesh watches the man's expression as he slides his greatsword across the man's throat.
He stares at Blackerly till the man is dead, a certain joy welling up inside of him as the man's life ebbs. Once he's dead, Wesh carves Asmodeus's symbol in his head and on his chest after the chainmail is removed.
When that's done, Wesh finally turns to answer Sir Gallen's question, "If you'll use it, take it. We'll find more in time, I'm sure. Not sure I would be comfortable wearing this bastard's armor anyway."
Wesh winces and says, "Hel's right. I could use a bit of healing if anyone has some."
Rigel calls out from above, "Well, sugar, I do happen to have a potion you could use."
Between Hel's neck snap and Wesh's blade, Blackerly lies dead on the floor, his belongings stripped. The final guard looks at you all, eyes wide with pain and fear, filled with the knowledge that he is next.
Up above, Grumblejack scratches behind one ear idly, a somewhat bored look on his face.
"Wesh, I have the ability to heal once more today. Come up and I will do what I can."
"I can help more when we rest, but we should get on the road and start making our way from here."
She goes back around the table again, looking down at the charred, lung-seared soldier. "..." With a sustained effort, wincing at the tenderness in her side, she slides the table away so that Blackerly can see the burned man. "..."
Hel shakes her head, then sinks to her knees at the luckless guard's head. "So this is the mercy we are dispensing today." She bends down to murmur into the man's ear, "Rach gu do dhia," then gives his head a sharp and thorough twist, to break his neck.
I do suppose I can see how you might've thought that she was doing that to Blackerly, though it was definitely meant for the nameless guard. Problems with not having names. ;) I will be posting with the presumption that the nameless guard is dead.
"Should have had him take it off first," Hel observes clinically about the chainmail, then rises to her feet and sighs. "Blackerly wore the best in the place; take it off him, wear it or not as you wish. Remember, we still have the guards at the front gate to eliminate, so I recommend that one of you put it on."
Eyeing the carving Wesh has done, she shakes her head, then looks about, making certain there is nothing else worthwhile (and relatively portable) to collect; the additional chain shirts, shields, and swords are ... well, more than they can conveniently carry, and probably marked as well, which will probably make them harder to dispose of in a worthwhile fashion.
She'll be the last one up and out, giving a whimsical smile as she does. Undoing the fastenings and dropping that ladder into the room, she'll retrieve the burned one and the second one to the roof and dump those in -- then, once everyone is down and out of the central defense room of the gate house, she retrieves the ladder and sets it next to the gate, to be tossed over the edge beyond the gate. Looking at the room where Blackerly held his games, she says firmly, "May someone twist an ankle trying to retrieve you, you sod -- one last insult you give the world."
She turns to the others and says, "While I would prefer to give the library another look-through, I agree that it's probably best we get moving. Retrieve Blackerly's lock-box, grab what we need -- Cole, you might want to take a look at the armory, see if they have anything you'd like better than a longsword -- and go take care of the guards at the front gates on our way out of here."
The throbbing in Wesh's side eases quite a bit as Cole heals him. Wesh smiles and nods at the inquisitor.
"The chainmail is yours, Sir Gallen," Wesh adds to Hel's comment.
He takes a few moments to restore his stamina before commenting on escaping. Wesh says, "Yep, let's grab the lock-box. Cole has proven his worth, for now, at least. We can show him to the armory to take his pick. We should make haste. As much trouble as we've had, it all seems a bit too easy. We need to get out of here before reinforcements arrive or the shift switches or something."
Gallen starts putting on Blackerly's chainmail. "Yes with no alarm raised but haste is our ally in this. Let us strike out and deal with any guards that remain."
Cole nods.
"Yes a spear would be nice. I'm ready. Thanks again. Let's go."
Returning to the main keep, you unlock Blackerly's lock box to find that it contains a case containing a dozen bottles of rotgut whiskey and a great deal of gold organized into pouches - the spoils of Blackerly embezzling from the prison funds. Altogether, there is 1,235 gp. Cole is able to access the armory, where he finds a spear to his liking.
Going back the other way, you pass through the gatehouse and down the switchback trail onto the causeway leading to the mainland. Ahead of you is your final obstacle - a lone guard post and the portcullis, guarded by 2 soldiers and a guard dog. The portcullis is down.
"A few well placed shots and a swift assault might take them out quickly... but deception has served us well so far. One maybe two 'guards' approaching them openly could get fairly close I suspect."
Wesh glances over at Sir Gallen's armor. With the right story and a persuasive enough tongue, they might be able to walk the rest of the way out of the prison without another fight. Not that Wesh would mind one if it became necessary.
"If any of them saw us come in as prisoners, any deception we try will fail before we start. Still, I think it's worth trying. One of the more silver-tongued among us should probably do the talking. I'm not sure the rest of us should pose as prisoners though... if things go bad we'll need to be able to fight."
Wesh looks around, seeing if anything nearby might be able to aid in the party's disguises.
Hel gets that faraway look again, the one she gets when she's working through the permutations of a defined problem. "Not a prisoner, I think," she says somewhat distantly. "Our housekeeping pair -- or at least the husband -- goes out for wood, remember? Supplies come in ... hmmm. There might be a cart. But ... a couple or three guards, the husband in his well-known green cloak -- Mister Hale," she adds, "did you get yourself a chain shirt? Let's get you outfitted, get a tabard on you, and I'll wear the cloak. That should get us right up to the door, mmm?"
Cole grabs himself a long spear. He has an idea on how to get pass the last 2 guards as well so grabs a spear for Grumblejack.
"You guys over think things. Look at this gold. What this means to me coming from a military background is these men are not getting paid what they should be. That and they are stationed here at this remote prison away from simple pleasures. They are unhappy and probably value their lives more than doing their job. Lets slide a few heads on Grumblejacks spear with Blackerly's at the top. We simply ask them to open the gate or join in Grublejack's trophies. My gut says the gate will open as they cower and hide."
Yes, the guardpost can be seen from the top of the gatehouse and from the second floor, however, it is over 300 feet as the crow files from the gatehouse to the guardpost. While that is in range of a bowshot, it's rather long, and your chances of hitting something aren't very good. There are arrow slits that provide a view of the causeway and switchback.
"Never underestimate the fanaticism of Mithrans. They are big on being self righteous... but it might work."
Wesh smiles at Cole. He likes the man's boldness, but he's not sure this situation calls for it.
"What happens if they don't open the gate, Cole? We can't exactly try to bluff our way by instead at that point. They'll be on high alert. Intimidation is a good plan B, but I think our first choice should involve a bit more subtlety."
"There are only two left. There is a good chance they don't open the gate. They may take some shots or cower in side. Did you say there was a cart? We could pile all the bodies on the cart and push that forward. It would give us an object to take cover behind and still give us the means to threaten to add them to it. All they have to do is open the gate and live. You give underpaid guards/soldiers too much credit. These are not fervored mitran paladins. I'm fine with whatever plan the group wishes, I just want to leave and it seems we are overthinking things, but yes Wesh whatever plan we go with if it goes south the option will be to bust in by force. Fortunately gate houses are meant to keep people out from outside the gates, inside is just a door, a locked and bared door but still just a door."
Hel's eyebrows lift slightly as she listens to Cole's ... idea. "It seems to me," she says coolly, "that to knowingly make and execute a plan when you must acknowledge that its chance of success is moderate at best is to ... actively seek your own destruction, it seems. You may call it overthinking; I just call it thinking. Not that you're wrong, I don't think," she adds, "just that it won't serve us in this instance. I'll be right back."
She steps into the dining room, thence to the kitchen, to retrieve the handyman's green cloak and drape it across her own shoulders. Emerging from the kitchen, she pauses to adjust the cloak as she looks down at the tied-up pair. "We'll be leaving you now," she informs the civilian pair with precise civility as she double-checks their bindings. "I have temporary need of your cloak, sir, but I will leave it at the gate, or thereabouts, in as accessable place as I can, and in as clean a condition as possible. Rest if you can, and you can work on your bonds when you wake, or at mid-day if you cannot rest. I am certain you understand the consequences for doing otherwise. Thank you for your compliance; I hope the consequences of our escape do not adversely impact your lives. If it does ..."
She pauses for a moment, considering. "Then you have my apologies. If I discover such, I will help if and when it is possible for me to do so. Again, thank you for your compliance, and my apologies for your discomfort."
She heads back to the group, the green cloak draped over her shoulders. "Let's not meddle with Wesh's hard work; no heads, no bodies. We go up, we get in, we kill them, we open the gate, we leave. We head across the moors to the manor house with the light burning on the second floor, and we meet our benefactor. Behind us, we will have left every single guard dead behind us. Thoughts, modifications, questions, objections?"
Wesh shrugs and says, "I doubt it'll be that simple, but seems reasonable. One of our more stealthy members should probably make sure everything seems normal before the rest of us head in."
"Those of us who are less covert should have our longbows ready to we can immediately help if things go poorly."
Cole nods.
"I'm ready. I certainly don't mind killing them. I think every guard at least stopped by to spit on or punch me, but I lost track. I though for sure I was dead but you have given me my opportunity for revenge and for that I am grateful. Come Hel so you will wear the cloak. So am I to disguise as a guard? I can say Blackerly sent me to relieve them while they escort you for wood. There have been reports of wild animals or something. Or did you have something else in mind?"
The pale-skinned woman's dark eyebrows lift as she watches Cole, listening to him rattle on. "Yes, a guard. You have your chain shirt, your tabard? For me, they glimpse a green cloak, they think it is the handyman going out for wood. They see a guard or two, they think maybe they are relieved early, perhaps because of a lost bet in the poker game. In this, the less said the better."
Hel then turns to the others -- Demlin, Amalrus, Rigel, and Grumblejack -- and says, "Keep a dozen or so yards behind us. If we spot a window, stop at the switchback, but be ready to come forward right away. If there's no window or any way for them to see us, close up a little, but keep to the guardhouse side of the causeway to minimize the potential to be spotted. Grumblejack, you lead the way with them." She doesn't tell the ogre that that's so that if they're spotted, he'll provide cover in both sight and combat for the three behind him ... but he's a smart ogre, he's likely to figure it out.
"Let's go."
"Can you guys give me a hand making sure I covered everything, so I look like one of these chumps. I can then help you as well then we can go."
Hel glances sideways at the nattering Cole, then at Wesh, who maybe seems to be a bit overeager. "Just wear it," she says to Cole, even as she scowls at the oversized cloak on her own shoulders; the handyman is much larger than she is, after all. Need to drop this thing as soon as the door opens, she decides. Just too damned big.
With a sigh, she starts up the causeway, lifting her face to the early-morning sky, a slight smile on her face as she feels the sea's breeze ruffle her hair.
Gallen walks forward with confidence, clearly he is exactly where he should be and who his uniform would indicate.
Strange, they plan and discuss, but rush and lack execution. No discipline. Oh well there are only two guards not like they will keep us from escaping now.
"Just trying to sell the part. Infiltration was part of my training."
Cole spends a few moments offering suggestions as the others try and disguise as well, if they accept them.
The four of you walk towards the guard post, waiting to see if you've successfully fooled them. As you approach, a dog starts barking from within the guard post, and the door on this side of the portcullis opens. You hear a guard say, "Quiet, Rover." He then pokes his head out and says, "We getting relieved or you just going out for -" He cuts off as he sees Wesh carrying a greatsword - not standard issue for on-duty guards - then looks at his face, and what is clearly a woman wearing the servant's cloak carrying a bow, and shouts, "Prisoner escape! Sound the alert!"
Stepping forward, he draws his longsword and says, "I don't know how you got this far without sounding the alarm, but you're not getting out of here!"
Grumblejack, seeing you've been found out, shouts, "Don't worry! Grumblejack help smash!" and starts running down the causeway.
The other guard emerges from the gatehouse, sees Grumblejack, and stumbles backward shouting, "They let the ogre out!" He grabs a signal horn and lets out three short-long blasts to sound the alert.
"Well, sh!t," Hel mutters under her breath as the one guard draws his sword and the other, seeing Grumblejack, sounds his horn. She inhales, then figures what the hell -- they know they're outnumbered, the ogre is there, why not try to get them to back down?? "The other guards are all dead; nobody's coming to back you up. Drop your weapons," she snaps, lifting a nocked arrow to point at the sword-wielder of the pair, "and I promise I won't let the ogre eat you."
In the pressure of the moment, she very much hopes they don't notice that she doesn't promise them their lives ...
"Well, sh!t," Hel mutters under her breath as the one guard draws his sword and the other, seeing Grumblejack, sounds his horn. She inhales, then figures what the hell -- they know they're outnumbered, the ogre is there, why not try to get them to back down?? "The other guards are all dead; nobody's coming to back you up. Drop your weapons," she snaps, lifting a nocked arrow to point at the sword-wielder of the pair, "and I promise I won't let the ogre eat you."
In the pressure of the moment, she very much hopes they don't notice that she doesn't promise them their lives ...
The guards, seeming to realize their rather untenable situation, look about to lay down their arms, but then the guard dog, recognizing the sound of an alert and with no one holding it back, comes barking out of the guardhouse and rushes up to Gallen to try and bite him.
Fortunately, the dog's jaws cannot find purchase on the chainmail Gallen now wears.
Cole knocks and arrow and takes study of one of the guards.
"I would listen. She only let the ogre eat Blackerly's legs so he is still hungry."
There may be a snicker in there as he makes the statement not his best job at lying.
Gallen looks at the dog with dismay. "You have served your masters well. You're will be a clean death." He calmly and coldly drives his blade through the dogs neck severing it's spinal column.