There's nothing quite like an unfair fight, but the odds can always be weighted further. Rigel steps forward, lightly pressing a hand to Gallen's shoulder.
Gallen sought to drive the blade home and kill the guard swiftly but as he lunged forward his footing is off as he steps in something unexpected underfoot.
Amalrus sighs, he's not spoken for a day he was so excited to escape. Now that escape plan seems to be hitting a snag, he and his fellow prisoners were weak and ill equipped for all this. There was nothing for it, Amalrus was going to have to get his hands a bit dirty.
Amalrus rushes at the guard and tries to grapple his arms to stop him from striking Wesh once more.
Grapple
His failed attempt just reaffirms his wise decision to find lackeys to do such things for him!
Demlin runs into the room next to Gallen and Hel and harries the guards legs, threatening to knock them out from underneath him. She succeeds, as the guard is now off-balance. Hel tosses the horn with a skittering bounce towards the far corner of the guardroom, then keeps on with the smacking and the stripping - an open-palmed smack against his arm as she reaches to strip away his at-hand weapon, presumably the same sort of club the other gaoler is using to beat at Wesh with. She knocks the leather-wrapped club from the guard's hands and sending it clattering to the floor.
Wesh spits out a bit of blood from the blow, but continues to smile at the man. "Is that really the best you can do? They aren't paying you enough, I can assure you of that." The fighter lunges at the man again, hoping to finish him off. The guard is easily able to bat the dagger thrust aside with his shield.
Amalrus sighs, he's not spoken for a day he was so excited to escape. Now that escape plan seems to be hitting a snag, he and his fellow prisoners were weak and ill equipped for all this. There was nothing for it, Amalrus was going to have to get his hands a bit dirty. Amalrus rushes at the guard and tries to grapple his arms to stop him from striking Wesh once more. His failed attempt just reaffirms his wise decision to find lackeys to do such things for him!
There's nothing quite like an unfair fight, but the odds can always be weighted further. Rigel steps forward, lightly pressing a hand to Gallen's shoulder, granting him the guidance of her deity. Gallen sought to drive the blade home and kill the guard swiftly, but as he lunged forward his footing is off as he steps in something unexpected underfoot.
The guard who suddenly finds himself in danger from three different people and without his club draws forth his longsword, slashing at Hel and gashing her leg. She feels weakened from his strike as blood flows down her leg.
The guard facing Wesh, after blocking the dagger thrust, says, "Looks like you miscalculated." His menacing smile fills Wesh with something he hasn't felt in a long time - fear.
Guard 1 - 8/22
Wesh - 11/15, 4 nonlethal, shaken
Hel - 1/10
Gallen adjusts his stance and drives his blade true into the mans side before giving the guard a steely glare.
Wesh shutters almost involuntarily at the guard's words. Despite the fear that is creeping up inside him, Wesh grits his teeth and tries to stab the guard once more. He decides to take a more cautionary approach to this attack.
Amalrus opts to punch the guard this time, maybe that will work...
Punch -
If you successfully disarm your opponent without using a weapon, you may automatically pick up the item dropped.
I am going to so auto-acquire the item dropped!! :D Seriously, right now disarming them is my best bet - +3 to attack vs +5 to disarm. Having a weapon with which to do it sure makes it easier ... at least against someone who also has a weapon in hand. Don't know if I get flanking for this, so I'll roll without; +2 if I do.
Iiiii think that'll do nicely.
A complicated weave of hands and forearms strips the club from the guard before he can properly get it into hand, and smacks the leather-strip-wrapped grip into her own; unfortunately, realizing that he's a wee bit outnumbered (and disarmed - twice!) means the black-haired archer gets the business end of his sword into the outer part of her thigh.
It's clear that she's in pain, a teeth-gritting wide-eyed hiss of agony, but she remains sensible enough to smack the leathery club down on the inside of his forearm, and as he rips the blade out via a different route than that which it entered her thigh, his own strength and her pressure combine to remove the sword from his hand, clanging to the ground.
"Gallen, get that!!" she exclaims, even as she staggers against the wall, one hand dropping to her leg to try to hold the opened flap of flesh against where it used to fit.
Rigel moves carefully away from the fight and towards the injured monk. "Don't fret, honey, Asmodeus is watching." It's not clear whether this is a good thing or not, but healing energy trickles from her hand as she lays it on Hel's shoulder.
Hel can feel the 'healing energy' coming from Rigel; it might be a trickle to the priestess, but to Hel it's a wash that takes her from 'about to collapse' to 'good as new'. That's not the only thing it is, though. For her, at least, Asmodeus's 'mercy' is more agonizing as the ripping cold that lanced into then tore out of her, except this is like acidic fire. A high thready keening emerges from her throat, which is too tight with the pain to manage any real volume, but under her hand skin and muscle and the rest of her flesh shift and ripple and put themselves back into proper order.
The look on her face is more than a little crazed.
Demlin decides to give Gallen and Hel a little aid and lashes out with a fist to guard's face.
Her fist connects snapping the guard's head back and likely to leave a nice bruise - if the guard lives that long.
A complicated weave of hands and forearms strips the club from the guard before he can properly get it into hand, and smacks the leather-strip-wrapped grip into her own; unfortunately, realizing that he's a wee bit outnumbered (and disarmed - twice!) means the black-haired archer gets the business end of his sword into the outer part of her thigh. It's clear that she's in pain, a teeth-gritting wide-eyed hiss of agony, but she remains sensible enough to smack the leathery club down on the inside of his forearm, and as he rips the blade out via a different route than that which it entered her thigh, his own strength and her pressure combine to remove the sword from his hand, clanging to the ground. "Gallen, get that!!" she exclaims, even as she staggers against the wall, one hand dropping to her leg to try to hold the opened flap of flesh against where it used to fit.
Wesh shutters almost involuntarily at the guard's words. Despite the fear that is creeping up inside him, Wesh grits his teeth and tries to stab the guard once more. He decides to take a more cautionary approach to this attack. His dagger once again slides through the guard's armor, sending more blood running down the guard's leg. The man still stands, however - gritting his teeth against the pain, he refuses to go down.
Amalrus opts to punch the guard this time, maybe that will work. His fist connects, but Amalrus punched the guard's armor, and the guard barely registers the rather weak blow.
Rigel moves carefully away from the fight and towards the injured monk. "Don't fret, honey, Asmodeus is watching." It's not clear whether this is a good thing or not, but healing energy trickles from her hand as she lays it on Hel's shoulder.
Gallen adjusts his stance and drives his blade true into the mans side before giving the guard a steely glare. He then steps on the sword that Hel knocked onto the ground.
The guard, finding himself yet again disarmed, with only a longbow and arrows remaining for weapons, surrounded by escaped prisoners, one of whom just healed another of the prisoners by drawing power from an evil deity like Asmodeus, has a decision to make. He can surrender to these Forsaken, or he can embrace the goodness of Mitra and fight to stop these criminals from being released back upon Talingarde.
He chooses Mitra. Noting that Demlin is the most direct target between him and the stairs, the guard lashes out with his shield to smack the woman back after her punch. His shield solidly impacts her, catching her in the face and torso and bloodying her.
The heavily wounded and bleeding guard again swings his club into Wesh, trying to take down the fighter - after all, the other one attacking him is hardly worth the effort. His club again connnects, although not as hard as the first time, knocking some of the wind out of Wesh yet again.
Guard 1 - 2/22
Wesh - 8/15, 7 nonlethal
Hel - 10/10
Demlin - 1/9
Gallen takes up the longsword to turn it on it's previous owner. He has the dagger ready in case one of his allies wishes to use it.
The man would be a limited threat now, even with the set backs it seemed they would overcome this obstacle, taking on another group of guards would be far easier once they had taken the weapons and armor of these ones.
Demlin reels back, feeling the impact of the shield through her whole body. She takes a defensive stance to protect herself.
As the guard smacks Wesh, Amalrus tries to get his arms around the guard once more.
Wesh takes a second to recover his breath from the guard's latest blow. The man is proving to be quite resilient. It reminds Wesh of a priest he killed a while back. Like the priest, the guard will die. It's just taking a bit longer than Wesh would prefer.
"Mitra has failed you. This is when you die."
Wesh stabs at the man once more.
The crazed look on Hel's face finds a sudden expression in the back of her hand striking swiftly across the guard's head. "Assh0le!!" she exclaims, panting as she straightens off the wall. The violent lashing-out does seem to have cleared her head a little (as it were), and she snaps out quick demands: "Gallen, help Wesh! Demlin, back away - Rigel, help her!"
Whether or not anyone follows through is entirely up to them, because it isn't like she's the sort of person you follow ...
If I do nonlethal, I get a free Intimidate check to demoralize, which condition lasts for a number of rounds equal to damage done:
It's more of a gamble than she prefers, but things are desperate - Rigel lunges at the guard, not trying to kill him but trying to bring him down. He must not be allowed to escape.
She only hopes that a childhood of rough-housing with her older siblings will stand her in good stead. If all else fails, she has to hope that she's more use to Asmodeus alive than dead.
Her outline blurs slightly as she strikes at the guard, trying to bring him down.
Demlin reels back, feeling the impact of the shield through her whole body. She takes a defensive stance to protect herself.
The crazed look on Hel's face finds a sudden expression in the back of her hand striking swiftly across the guard's head. "Assh0le!!" she exclaims, panting as she straightens off the wall. The violent lashing-out does seem to have cleared her head a little (as it were), and she snaps out quick demands: "Gallen, help Wesh! Demlin, back away - Rigel, help her!" Whether or not anyone follows through is entirely up to them, because it isn't like she's the sort of person you follow. Hel's slap catches him across the jaw, but it doesn't seem to have been a terrible blow.
Wesh takes a second to recover his breath from the guard's latest blow. The man is proving to be quite resilient. It reminds Wesh of a priest he killed a while back. Like the priest, the guard will die. It's just taking a bit longer than Wesh would prefer. "Mitra has failed you. This is when you die." Wesh stabs at the man once more. Unfortunately, the blow is easily turned aside by his armor.
As the guard smacks Wesh, Amalrus tries to get his arms around the guard once more. He fails to do so, not being well-suited to such combat.
It's more of a gamble than she prefers, but things are desperate - Rigel lunges at the guard, not trying to kill him but trying to bring him down. He must not be allowed to escape. She only hopes that a childhood of rough-housing with her older siblings will stand her in good stead. If all else fails, she has to hope that she's more use to Asmodeus alive than dead. Her outline blurs slightly as she strikes at the guard, trying to bring him down. She manages to grab his legs and causes him to tumble onto his back.
Gallen takes up the longsword to turn it on it's previous owner. He has the dagger ready in case one of his allies wishes to use it. The man would be a limited threat now, even with the set backs it seemed they would overcome this obstacle, taking on another group of guards would be far easier once they had taken the weapons and armor of these ones.
The guard, having been slapped by Hel and tripped by Rigel, stands to smash one of the two women with his shield.
Deciding that Hel's slap was the more offensive maneuver the guard thrusts his shield forward at her. Fortunately, she is able to fend his assault off.
As Wesh's blade deflects off his armor, the guard smiles and says, "I'd say Mitra still has my back." He then swings his club towards the fighter yet again. The club impacts solidly yet again, catching Wesh on the head, and he feels blackness settle in...
Hel it is.
Guard 1 - 2/22
Guard 2 - 13/22, 4 nonlethal
Wesh - 3/15, 12 nonlethal
Hel - 10/10
Demlin - 1/9
As the guard smacks Wesh once more, Amalrus groans and attempts to slow the bastard down.
Gallen toses the dagger away from himself and the guards before he grips the sword in both hands and drives it downwards to the guard as he tries to stand. He raises an eyebrow at Hel as she barked orders at him? Impertent little..
+4 if Good
+1 if good
+4 if Good
+2 If good
Twisting the blade in the mans torso he eyes Hel in a surly tone "Now I've got a sword I'll wrap this up soon enough." He brings the sword up in a slashing arc towards the other guard.
Demlin is glad to see the guard go down by Gallen's sword. Her wound was serious but she could rest when her enemies were dead. She picked up the dagger that Gallen tossed and ran around to stand over Wesh and attack the guard who knocked him out.
Once again, Asmodean cunning proves superior to Mitran self-righteousness. Rigel gives a smile and stretches languorously (it's so good to be out of those shackles!), before wandering over to Wesh.
"Wake up, honey. Asmodeus isn't done with you yet."
Gallen toses the dagger away from himself and the guards before he grips the sword in both hands and drives it downwards to the guard as he tries to stand. He raises an eyebrow at Hel as she barked orders at him? ]i]Impertent little.. [/i] The blade goes right into his neck, felling him permanently.
Demlin is glad to see the guard go down by Gallen's sword. Her wound was serious but she could rest when her enemies were dead. She picked up the dagger that Gallen tossed and ran around to stand over Wesh and attack the guard who knocked him out. The dagger slides into his side, and the guard gasps in surprise as he falls to the ground, bleeding out.
Rigel moves and heals Wesh, restoring him to nearly full strength.
Chain shirt x2
Heavy Steel Shield x2
Longsword x2 (Gallen has one)
Longbow x2
40 arrows
Leather-wrapped Club x2, does half nonlethal damage half lethal (Hel has one)
2 footlocker keys
A leather pouch with a vial containing a bluish liquid and a note that says,
Jimmy,
I sent you this just in case of emergency. We'll see you in a few months.
Love,
Mom
Looking about the room, you see that there is a large fireplace, currently unlit, whose chimney appears to connect to the floor below. There are the stairs going down, and the whole room is lit by four torches in sconces. A keyring hands on a hook next to the door into the cell block.
Gallen looks at the equipment before them and picks up the shield. "I am considering keeping these and and the chain shirt. Of course that means I'll have to stay upfront but thats where my skills lie. You seem almost back to full health thanks to Rigel. Perhaps a similar set up might suit you but if you woukd rather let someone else do so a longbow is worth considering if you can handle one."
"We took them out and raised no alarm but I wont complain if we have no more fighting as we leave but we will see how the situation plays out."
Well, what do you know - people are full of surprises. Hel did not expect Rigel of all the others to manage to scramble and put the guard on the ground; Sir Gallen's adeptness with the sword, on the other hand, was not a surprise, though his growl is a bit late as Demlin shifts to the side and finalizes the guard who'd tangled with Wesh.
"I don't doubt it, my lord, but don't forget who provided you with such largesse." She gives him a short, tight smile and eyes the corpse on the floor before sighing and starting to pull the tabard and armor from the deceased guard. "Nice stroke, though."
Managing to get the chain mail off isn't too difficult, and she hands it over to Gallen immediately, then frowns and opens up the pouch on the guard's hip. Hefting the vial with the blue liquid in one hand, she reads the note, then lifts her head and says, "An emergency potion from Mom - who wants to bet that this is a healing potion? He didn't try to use it because he didn't need it. Rigel, can you take a look at this? If it is, I'm sure Demlin can make use of it."
After handing the potion over to Rigel, she looks back down at the note, then frowns for a moment and goes over to the table to find something to write with - by preference a pencil or ink and a pen, but a charred piece of wood will do in extremis. Turning the note over, she eyes the bottom of it, then shakes her head and sighs, turning back to the fireplace for that charred piece of wood or three. Eyeing the back of the oversized fireplace, she notes the chimney connectivity, something she'd seen in other 'great houses' - not those of her 'parents', but older construction. Eyebrows narrowing, she glances down at the bed of the fireplace, then eases inside it to listen for a moment to see if she can hear anyone moving around downstairs, holding her hand out into the gap to see if she can feel any heat coming up (and therefore the area down below having a fire in it).
After a long few moments inside the fireplace, she emerges to head over to the table, clearing it and starting to sketch directly onto the wood. "I read a history of this place before it became a prison - Castle Branding. Coastline here, guardpost before a causeway ..." Her sketching is rough, but relatively clear. "Rocky area, rocky island. Causeway is in full view of the castle gatehouse, easy for archers to turn anyone approaching into pincushions. Gatehouse is part of the curtain wall instead of being pushed out in front of it ..." She hesitates after sketching a wall that goes close to the rocky island's edge, then frowns.
"I don't remember how the six wall towers are set up. I do know that the back tower," she jumps her sketching to the 'far side' of the rocky island, "was where the lord's quarters were, probably converted into the warden's. The main keep," she adds, randomly sketching in five other towers, then a square in the middle of the ring, "is two stories, used to serve primarily as housing for the soldiers, and of course was the main defensive point. Main kitchen for the place is probably here too, right below us; old-style architecture used to make only one big chimney, for all the fires to feed into."
She straightens up, looking down at the map she's sketched into the table, then sketches in a path between keep and gatehouse, draws a square to one side as she murmurs, "Kitchen garden ..." and, looking whimsical for a moment, sketches another to the other side as she adds, "stables ... or maybe kennels now ... Oh, save me one of those bows. And if someone isn't going to take the other, I will absolutely be able to use all the arrows."
Wesh takes in a deep breath as most of his health is restored. The first voice he hears is Rigel's and he can't help but smile.
"May Asmodeus breathe heavily upon you, my dear. There is such a thing as a priest worth keeping alive after all."
Rigel's words were more true than she probably realized. There had been a time when Wesh had just about accepted that he was to die in this wretched prison. That Asmodeus had made as much use of him as he saw fit. How wrong Wesh had been. Asmodeus would one day be done with him, but the fighter now suspects that day is far in the future.
Once Wesh stands to his feet, he grabs the dagger that fell out of his hand and walks over to the two already dead guards. He contemplates slashing their throats, but decides he should continue reserving that for Mitran priests. Instead, he rips off what remains of the pair's shirts and carves an Asmodean pentagram into each man's chest. After thinking about it for a moment, he also carves a pentagram into each man's forehead.
"Whenever their bodies are recovered, everyone will know that it was Asmodeus's will that they die," Wesh says to no one in particular before spitting on the guard that had knocked him unconscious. "Where's your idiotic god now?
Wesh picks up the other longsword and the other shield and says, "I'll take these if no one minds. And one of those chain shirts. If I'm going to lead the charge, I'd like to be able to survive it."
The fighter tosses his dagger over to Demlin and says, "Here, this weapon seems like something you could make better use of."
Wesh walks over to where Hel is mapping out the prison. He nods in agreement with the details he recognizes from when he was brought over the causeway.
"It'd be suicide to try going over the causeway. If they're smart, they'll also have the prison's roof, in addition to the towers, guarded night and day. No one has escaped this place before, so I don't think we're going to be the first by trying to walk out the front door.
"We have seven hours or so before these bodies are discovered, if we're lucky. Even if we dispose of the bodies, they'll know we're gone only a few minutes later.
"I suggest we go downstairs. There's at least one level below and probably many more. This place has to have a drain or waste disposal. It may not be glamorous, but I think that's our best chance to escape. If it empties out into the water, we might have to swim, but I doubt they have guards on the other end."
Wesh walks over to the cell containing their mysterious cell mate. "There's also the matter of our potential friend here. Perhaps it's time we said hello, eh?"
Hel shows no concern about both pieces of chain mail being seized; in her opinion, the warrior and the knight are probably the two most able to use them, and she's stated what she can best use.
"It's surrounded by an ocean, Wesh," Hel replies with a bit of acid in her tone. "The garderobes probably dump straight down onto the rock, and get cleaned every high tide." Tapping the central keep - their most likely current location - she continues thoughtfully. "Sir Gallen, didn't you say something about the prison's security going slack over the last few years? Hmmm. If there's going to be guards on the roof here, I think we'd have to take care of them first, but I also think it'd be better to find their own way of getting up there."
Staring at the table/map for a long moment, she says quietly, "Given the choice, I would leave this vile place a tomb -- kill each and every person in it, however we can, as quietly as we can, and I am starting to think we might well be able to do so with a great amount of effectiveness. Not only would doing so virtually eliminate any pursuit until someone came here, which might take a day or more, but it would put a thumb straight into the eye of all the people who think that their government is good and right just because they mouth the Mitran code." She shakes her head, then 'air spits' to the side. "Pth! Mitran justice is a monstrosity. At least your god," and here she gestures towards Rigel, "is straightforward about his oppressive policies. Mitran self-delusion makes me sick."
"If we are noticed early on and then overwhelmed it will not avail us at all. If you want to double back later and indulge yourself very well but there is something to be said for securing an exit from this place first."
You feel a little bit of heat coming from the fireplace below, as of a small fire - likely one kept lit in case someone needs to put a kettle on in the middle of the night. You also hear faint voices - you're pretty sure there are two of them.
Gallen and Wesh equip themselves with a longsword, shield, and chain shirt each, while Hel grabs a longbow and some arrows. Wesh passes his dagger to Demlin, with Hel still carrying around one of the clubs.
Wesh then grabs the keys off the ring and moves over to the maximum security cell, asking if it's time to open it and see who's in there.
Galen readies his new sword and shield and nods at Wesh. "Better to bring them along or put them out of their misery."
Wesh unlocks the cell and opens the door as the group gathers outside. Within, the light from the torches illuminates what looks to be a creature far larger than any human. It stirs, fixing the warrior standing in the doorway with a look, before grunting. "More little 'uns. You come to beat Grumblejack too?"
This is clearly an ogre - a rarity to see below the Watch Wall. It is generally thought they were all driven into the Savage North. How it came to be here, you don't know, but you know they are incredibly strong and vicious in battle. You also know they are typically rather stupid, although this one certainly doesn't look or seem it.
"Actually no Mr Grumblejack, why have they locked you up here? If you would be willing to help us we might just help you get out of here. But you need to be able to be quiet so we don't attact attention of the other 'little 'uns'." An ogre perhaps, he could be a good distraction or an able combatant.
Wesh stares at the one called Grumblejack for a moment, trying to assess the man or creature or whatever he is.
"No need for a beating as long as you don't try to attack us. Perhaps we could work together? What are you in here for?"
Hel, still looking down at the table-map, gives a noncommittal 'mmm', then says in an abstracted tone, "Then we don't get noticed early on. Think of it as pre-emptively elimination of the inevitable pursuit. But I am by no means going to try it alone." Finally turning around again, she watches Sir Gallen and Wesh equip themselves, adding, "It being night-time outside, it might be worthwhile to put on the tabard anyhow, as protective coloration."
As Wesh lifts the key to the secure cell, Hel shrugs and, after equipping herself, follows along behind the two warriors. In an aside to the rogue, priest, and mage, she suggests, "You might want to acquire a weapon or two yourself."
When Grumblejack is revealed, her eyebrows lift. While she is uncertain as to what, exactly, the ... person ... is, she at least knows that she's never seen one before; elves, yes, dwarves, yes, even a few gnomes and halflings here and there, but whatever this is ... no. "What is it?" she whispers in an aside to whichever of the others (not Gallen or Wesh) is near her.
Any gauge as to how good of condition our <unknown species> friend is in? Hm; maybe a Healing check?
Odd...
"I believe this ogre could be a cunning ally in helping us escape." Demlin lets the others talk to him as she uses the interrogation room to change clothes. She could feel her broken nose and brutalised face from the guard's shield. She hoped there was some restorative magic in those potions. She rather like how pretty her face had been. Her vision was a little blurry. Perhaps a little rest would help.
The ogre seems to study you a moment, then says, "You let Grumblejack go and help escape? Then Grumblejack not smash you. You unlock chains?"
Asked what he is here for, Grumblejack says, "Grumblejack hide in moor, attack little 'uns and take stuff. Some knight comes a long and beats Grumblejack, then, instead of killing, takes Grumblejack here. Grumblejack smashed 2 little 'uns while they tried to lock up." He seems to have been some kind of bandit in the moor outside the prison, and killed a couple guards while they tried to get him into this cell.
As Hel examines Grumblejack, the ogre grunts and says, "Grumblejack been hurt worse. Little 'uns not kill Grumblejack yet - clearly little 'uns are stupid. Did give Grumblejack funny tasting hot water. Makes Grumblejack weaker than normal."
He's clearly been beaten often, and is in quite rough shape at the moment. You can also tell that something seems to have sapped some of his strength - the "funny tasting hot water" was likely some sort of poison, distilled to a tea. Still, he should be able to move and fight, although you don't know where you'll find a weapon sized appropriately for him.
"If we help you then you will have many opportunities to attack enemies and acquire a share of the spoils. However that does not include everyone we see. We are powerful enough to escape, so it would be unwise to try and betray us Grumblejack."
"Perhaps you will recover your full strength in time, Grumblejack. If you come with us, there will be plenty more little 'uns to kill. As Sir Gallen here said, the people you see now are off limits. I'm sure you'll find that there are plenty of other little 'uns to smash, though. Even more still if we make it out of this place.
"And yes, the little 'uns are very, very stupid. That goes for anyone idiotic enough to worship Mitra. What a worthless god."
Wesh is perfectly content to bring the ogre along, but he looks over at his companions to gauge their response.
Hel's eyebrows lift at Demlin's identification of Grumblejack's species, the black-handed woman turning her head towards the soldier. "An ogre? Really." Regarding the beat-up ogre for a few moments, she nods slowly. "Rather the worse for wear, probably been poisoned from that tea to weaken him, but if he agrees to keep quiet, follow directions, and keep his impulses in check, then certainly. If nothing else, he can take an arrow or sword-cut meant for one of us. And healing him would, I think, be a good investment."
"Grumblejack agree, so long as you not attack Grumblejack. You open chains now?"
You can tell that the ogre is being truthful - he will not betray you, at least until you get out of Branderscar. Who knows? Perhaps you could find a way to ensure his loyalty even beyond.
"If you'd be so kind Demlin, it seems like we've got a recruit."
Rigel smiles. "Well, isn't that nice. We've made a new friend!"
She looks with curiosity at the potion they have taken from the guard.
"Afraid I'm not the one to ask what this is - maybe try your luck with Amalrus? He strikes me as the type to know what is what."
After Amalrus stops watching the light go out of the eyes of the dead guards he takes the potion stopper off and sniffs at it.
He smiles as he knows just what it is...
He turns to his allies, "As I said, I can pretend to be most anyone with one of my tricks. Why not Blackerly? I can lead a few more guards this way, thin the ranks, yes?"
Wesh, having the keys, goes and unlocks the chains around the ogre. He stands to his full height, towering over all of you, and stretches. "Grumblejack hungry. You have food?"