Beatrix quickly exits the cell at the first available opportunity.
"Thank you." She says to Fifteen. The statement is clipped and severe, but not insincere. One gets the impression that it is a statement she is not accustomed to making.
At Regina's statement, Beatrix's eyes fall upon her with a withering stare. "If it was that important to you, you wouldn't care whether they were clean or not," she says in a derisive tone. Without further statement, she begins rifling through the befouled garments, selecting any that are still functional before putting them on.
Beatrix pauses dressing herself briefly to make a sweeping gesture around the room with her hand.
"Does this place look like it cares what we want?"
"Filthy clothes help spread disease. Getting out of here isn't going to help us much if we die from sickness a few days later." Regina explained both quietly and nervously. She wasn't sure what to make of these people just yet, but she had absolutely zero interest in escaping... whatever this place was only to collapse soon afterwards. If they really had no choice, she'd bear with it and hope they could get through somehow - maybe find a priest or something - but if anybody had something to at least mostly clean the clothes up a bit, that was a small bit of effort to reduce a lot of risk.
As Era's magic was working to clean Fifteen, she did take notice of the scar, brow furrowing and lips pursing. Her hand moves to her own spine and the back of her legs as she checks that whatever had happened to Fifteen hadn't happened to her as well... "Arta Simpla." she incants as she makes another waving motion, this time towards the clothing strewn about.
"She's right, you know. Era offers to Beatrix, as she casts her spell once more, focusing on the ragged clothing. She then proceeds to move over to the man as Fifteen had suggested and begin unstrapping him - or using the tools as the case may be, to perform her own unlocking.
Standing over a surgery table with makeshift tools with a bound man in front of her brought an uneasy feeling to the pit of her stomach, but she continued her work, regardless.
"Someone should check inside the furnace as well." Era suggests to Saturday as she works. "With what's been being burned, the fire's unlikely to have grown hot enough to melt things... and with the... attention to detail of our host, it's likely things that shouldn't have been put inside, were."
Regina looked genuinely grateful for Era's help, and eventually managed to pull out a brown robe from the pile. It wasn't great, but it wasn't like she was spoiled for options, either... so it would have to do for now. She visibly relaxed once she had it on, and tried to keep an eye on both the man Era was unstrapping and the corridor (in case that thing came back). Now that they had clothes... the sooner they could get out of here, the better.
Quinn would be the last to exit the cell and do so quietly not wanting to draw attention to herself even from her saviors. Spotting the clothing, even in it's pitiful state, was a relief and the caster cleaning them was a welcome addition.
She'd dresses as quickly as she could in the first manageable outfit she could scavenge from the pile, the rags lacked the comfort of her own clothing but it would have to do for now. She turned her focus on finding weapons or anything that could be used as one since everyone had been freed and clothed or at least was in the process of doing so. "Look around for something we can use to fight back, I doubt that was the only one here and they won't be happy about this." Quinn finally speaks for the first time since they awoke here, her confidence slightly restored by being able to cover herself.
|
Sad; you finds several broken handles to what look like knives, within the depths of thefurnace, you're sure it would easily be sharpened for a quick weapon. You also find a masterwork viol at the bottom of the clothes pile. It's missing it's bow , asked to be in fine condition.
Anyone looking confine that the most readily source of weaponry lies on the metal tablet beside the now unstrapped man. Large portion of them are gardening tools and many appear to be poorly cared for or cleaned. Regardless, none of them appear ready for surgery of any kind.
The man now, having his arms free , grabs Era's shoulder with a surprisingly good deal of strength, his nowise meeting yours with the look of sheer terror. As he leaks from the large degree of lacerations across his body, he begins to beg you, " Please, If you are real and not another monstrous trick, please end this. I can't take the pain anymore. You must hurry! There's no telling how long she'll be or...how many reinforcement she'll bring to bear. "
He weakly looks around the room to see if any are sympathetic to his requests.
Regina looked down at her hand for a moment, and her vision swam a bit as she looked at the faint outline of energy that came through when she focused on allowing just a little bit of power through. Her... 'reserves', for lack of a better word... had already refilled themselves after the blast she'd fired earlier. That hadn't taken very long, so it seemed like she'd be all right if she used this power of hers instead of conserving it for fear it would be needed more later. So that was one upside in a whole sea of downsides...
"I hit her before, and I'll do it again if I have to." Regina said firmly. She tried to get some bandages together for him-
-but it quickly became clear that she had no idea what she was doing there, and with a sigh, she stepped back instead of making things worse with well-meaning but futile efforts. Instead, she looked at the furnace for a bit. It really was rather enormous, wasn't it? ...And enormous furnaces tended to have bigger chutes for smoke. Maybe. Probably? She wasn't sure. It wasn't like she was an expert in furnace design or anything, but she was pretty sure that when they increased in size, all of the other parts got bigger as well.
"I wonder... could we climb out of here instead of facing that thing again...?" she muttered to herself as she checked it over. (The fact that she was already talking to herself probably wasn't a good sign...)
Era pulls away from the man as he lunges at her suddenly but a student of war she was not. As he grabs her and pleads with her, through the fear of having been grabbed by a man in the grips of insanity - why had she been the one to untie him? That had been unwise - she listens and is left with still more questions. "What reinforcements? What is it that you wish us to stop?"
When it becomes clear he means her no harm she looks to Regina, "Please don't shred any of the clothing or bags, we may need both... I certainly need the former. Are any of you capable of healing magic or skilled in medicine?"
"Sounds like he's made up his mind," Beatrix responds flatly to Era and Saturday's conversation about the man's condition.
"And if he's right about that thing coming back with help, we should get out of here."
"Fancy yourself the sort that makes those kinds of decisions for people, are you?" Beatrix retorts with a sneer.
However, the expression fades and she quickly relents any desire to butt heads. "Fine, bring him along, then. But it's gonna be hard enough with a half-dozen different ideas about what we should do to get out of here without adding another head besides."
Fifteen retreats quietly from the doorway and returns to the main area.
"There is something beyond the door." She reports quietly. "I heard breathing. We must search this room thoroughly to find weapons and then move out together. If the doctor is still there then we should be prepared." She joins the people at the sacks and starts rummaging, looking for anything that might serve as a weapon - although for some reason she is confident that she doesn't need one.
Regina paused in the middle of examining the furnace, and looked over when Saturday and Fifteen brought up the subject of weapons. "Uh... don't worry about me. I, uh, don't think I need any." Or perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that she already had the weapon she needed - to wit, the ability to fling bolts of energy out of her hand. She couldn't remember having used any kind of physical weapon in the past - which didn't mean much. Still, nothing she could imagine (swinging a heavy bag, stabbing out with one of those 'tools' the creature had been using, and so on) felt familiar to her. Best to stick with the one thing she was reasonably confident would work... even if it did scare her a little.
Jacqueline, for her part, appears to not be partaking in any of the drama. When the rest of the party opens her cell she gives a cursory nod, and begins pacing back and forth, muttering under her breath. Anybody who gets close enough can hear that Jacqueline appears to be reciting random trivia at a rapid speed. When the party begins arguing over the fate of the man, she turns and gives Beatrix a withering glare. "Our current predicament is not an excuse to abandon our humanity." She then paces and continues muttering for a few moments, before she finally snaps her fingers. "Ah. It appears that I am afflicted with a specific, targeted amnesia. It erased all of my memories, but none of my knowledge, thankfully. I believe everybody else is in the same predicament."
Then, clothes, out of nowhere, suddenly pop into existence on Jacqueline. She then walks over to the man and gives a gentle smile. "Dying is always your last option. Even if you're tortured. Or, you know, that doctor-lady decides to bring a dozen other things with her. As long as you're alive, then there's still hope." She furrows her brow. "Unless, of course, this is all a shared hallucination and we're slowly being constricted to death by some sort of fungus monster. But that's an outside case."
Era turns her magic on a trowel, before pulling herself away from the feverish man to get dressed. She isn't picky about what she winds up wearing; she didn't plan to be wearing it for very long in any sense that mattered, after all... though she didn't like how baggy everything was, it wasn't something to be complained about. It simply felt... slobbish?
She then went on to examine the barrels while the others examined the furnace and bag, the 'way out', and kept tabs on the man. "I should be the one to support him, at least until we get our things back; I don't believe I have any spells prepared today beyond my cantrips; I've used those I had access to - likely attempting to avoid this particular fate. I'm uncertain, however."
From the unkempt tools by the man Quinn would try to find something large with a slashing edge instead of a crude bludgeoning one, hearing what she believes to be the man asking for death puts a pit in her stomach and if not for the others she would have likely granted his wish but if they believed he had hope she would follow suit.
"Are we ready then? Well as ready as we can be with these. Better to not be where they expect us."
Jacqueline nods. "Ready as a humanoid can be in these circumstances." She feels out her ears. "Alright. Human. Probably."
Beatrix rolls her eyes at Saturday's self-assured retort to her criticism, but it fades to concern when the man cries out in pain. While the expression is genuine, whether it's out of sympathy or worry at a reduction of their tactical options is unclear to any observers. When he recovers, she returns to her usual neutral expression.
Recalling the native abilities she discovered in the dream world, she concentrates and a long, semi-translucent weapon forms in her hands. Faint wisps of maroon shoot through the otherwise grey object.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she states flatly.
Regina notices after a quick examination of the furnace and it's inner workings the vents leading up and out of the furnace are particularly wide with offshoots and seams providing hand and foot placements. In fact it's just wide enough for a person to squeeze through with some effort...
You also aid the man as best you can but it seems he is beyond the help of someone without proper medical knowledge.
The bags that Sad examines are filled with all of your party's non weapon and non clothing goods. The groups personal belongings are mixed together haphazardly, seemingly prepped for the furnace.
Era however, finds that the barrels are in fact filled with large clumps of hair. The assortment of follicles seems to belong to a multitude of people. Each barrel is half full of various organic fiber, small hairs and long hairs. The disconcerting find seems to be drenched in a sweet scented oil and prepared for the burner.
The man slides off the table, propping himself up with Era or anyone willing to hold him and mutters to Sad, "No...Not a-all of us."
He continues to wheeze and shake, staring out at the world with bloodshot hollow eyes."You're all so brave but I-I-I think you'll need far more...
After collecting her things - a grand total of 50 GP in coins - Regina considered her options. The creature was still alive, probably out in the hall somewhere... and she didn't want to face it. More to the point, she didn't want anyone else to be put in harm's way if there was a safer way out. "The vent's climbable. I'm going to check it out... and if we can get through that way, we can help him-" she nodded at the injured man "-up it and try escaping properly." With that, she moved over to the vent and started climbing. Although after a moment... "...Please don't look up at me."
"When bravery fails, scare 'em right back. And if that doesn't work, a sword through the heart or neck kills most anything." Jacqueline gives the man a wink. "What's your name?" She then turns to Regina and says flippantly, "I'll take a look through the other door. We still don't know where our equipment is. Your equipment, at any rate." She then moves towards the only other exit and opens the door.
"When bravery fails, scare 'em right back. And if that doesn't work, a sword through the heart or neck kills most anything." Jacqueline gives the man a wink. "What's your name?" She then turns to Regina and says flippantly, "I'll take a look through the other door. We still don't know where our equipment is. Your equipment, at any rate." She then moves towards the only other exit and opens the door.
Anyone watching Fifteen closely would have seen her eyes roll, clearly no-one had been paying any attention to her what-so-ever. Taking a moment to push her things into a small pile Fifteen hurries after Jacqueline and is crouched behind her when the brash woman throws open the door.
As Era's book comes out into the open, her eyes dart to it, just as faded and lacking in details as the symbol on her hand - as if they'd been erased. She gives it a moment, though, while she looks through the barrel.
"I.. the f#&%?" she asks, clearly surprised and a little dumbfounded. "Were they making scented candle wicks out of our hair?" she asks, looking from the barrels to the dimly lit candles throughout the room. "I... am not going to ask where they got the wax from." she says, hands twitching through arcane motions as if conjuring a spell that she never finishes.
She instead turns her attention to her spellbook... and begins rifling quickly through the rest of the contents. Writing utensils in the form of charcoal, a second book... completely and frustratingly left blank. Several brass keys, an underarm knapsack and an empty canteen. She doesn't take her own money, whatever of it might have been hers, instead simply leaving it in the 'group pool'. It was likely better that way, it was questionable which would make it out alive, if any, and better for the group that it was in a centralized location. Something she didn't share - no need to remind the others they were in danger.
She fingers her way through the oddly familiar spellbook, fingers tracing the arcane writings. "I have several minor spells available, should we need them. I'll have to study them, though. Lubrication, Armor, Understanding, Object Lore, Seizures, minor illusions and... making one of you big are all options. It wouldn't take me more than a minute to study any given spell, but if you'd like me to prepare one of them before we need it and don't have it handy, now's the time to bring it up." she watches as Jacqueline heads for the door, not closing her book just yet, as she allows the man on the table to put his weight on her.
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Digging through the bags Saturday let out a sigh of relief as the glint of silver caught his eyes. Pulling out the silver symbol on the chain he puts it over his head, letting it rest against his chest. It was heavy.
But it was calming.
He hoped it was his, a thought that occurred to him only after he had took em it. But it had been what had filled his dreams alongside the void, so it had to have been his. Taking out a worn out and stained tabard he puts that on as well, in it he also found a ring depicting a slumbering wolf, he wa definitely sure this one was his as he hovered it over his fingers, one finger having a matching wear of paleness circling around it, it matched the ring perfectly.
Putting the viola into the bad along with a book he didn't get bother to get out right this moment, he also found a rather small silver bell.
Picking it up he was unable to resist ringing it. Standing there motionless he was utterly fixated on the beautiful ting it made. Even after the sound faded he stood there silently before he was able to will himself to put the bell back into the bag.
Breaking a chair leg off and tossing the bag over his shoulder he nods to the others.
The door opens with a lot of noise and close inspection shows that it is somewhat crooked. The room is fifteen feet by thirty. A broad chute extends diagonally through one of this cellar's half-crumbled stone walls. Beneath it lies heaped more than a dozen mutilated and hairless humanoid bodies. Nearby, a flight of rickety, wooden steps climbs toward the high ceiling, an escape none of the room's current occupants seem capable of employing. The smell of rot and decay in the room is nearly overwhelming, and the buzz of flies hangs in the air.
All are dead, some having been so for days. You also notice that many of them are wearing the same thing: a plain, white uniform that buttons in the front. It is very similar to the doctor's outfit worn by the doppelganger. The chute to the west is 8 feet off of the floor.
The man Era is helping, weakly resists any efforts to move him into the room."Please nooo.. He turns to fifteen, begging in a disorientated manner."My name is Campre. I don't deserve this. Don't let them do this..."
Fifteen seems unmoved by the smell or the mutilated bodies and proceeds to search through the bodies thoroughly. She eventually takes the cleanest uniforms she can and slips one of, jury-rigging the other one into a back-pack for her assorted possessions.
"Up the stairs then?"
Quinn didn't feel like splitting up was the best idea but Regina would likely be safer up there at least for now, she'd take the well made backpack she remembered from the nightmare hearing the clink of a few coins as she slung it onto her back and headed to join the others outside the room with her Shears in hand.
When they enter the room she would cover her mouth and nose with her free hand but kept moving toward the stairs. "Looks like our only option."
After her look around, Regina wormed her way back down the chute a step at a time - fortunately, having come up it once, it was a lot easier to remember where the footholds were. She dropped the last few feet to land on the ground and moved over to rejoin the others, a bit soot-covered but otherwise all right. "The chute's navigable. I think we can get out that way." she said quietly, covering her nose and trying to avoid breathing any more of the smell in the room than necessary.
"What's wrong with the stairs?" Fifteen asks.
"Going up the chute requires us to travel one at a time and slowly. We also couldn't take our friend, here." Era responds. "We'll be unable to defend ourselves or our allies while we move through it. My vote is for the stairs... if we're taking votes. Would you prefer to climb the chute? I'm uncertain you could in your condition, and staying in that room means that anything we can make it past will still be here... we'd be leaving you for dead, probably." she says, matter-of-factly to the man on her shoulder. She hadn't moved into the room, avoiding the sights and smells until they knew better what was going on in the room - leaving the others plenty of room to maneuver, as well.
"The spellbook says my name is Era... assuming I'm the real owner. Are we going to talk about the dream that I had about most of you? The part where two roads diverged and I took the one that no one else traveled by? Do I know you from the dream, or do I know you from before the dream? Did we dream together, or was it just the worst dream I can remember, by virtue of being the only dream i can remember?"
"This is no dream." Fifteen responds. "The dream did not have the depth of sensation and feeling that is present here. My senses suggest strongly that this is reality, or at least, real enough that I cannot perceive the difference. And for it is worth, I too vote for the stairs."