Talin-Garde's Demise

Game Master Jing the Bandit

Once the vial is nearly filled with the Warden's lifeblood, Senara lifts it up to eye level, admiring the crimson liquid in the torchlight with a beatific smile upon her face. Ileosa's demands garners no arguments from the noblewoman, who instead hastily stoppers the vial before collecting her errant dagger and following the other woman toward the stairs. "My brother gives his thanks, Warden Richter," she taunts the dead man. Just before she closes the door to his office, something catches her eye that gives her pause. The Warden's owl.

"Und töte diesen verdammten Vogel." Senara gives her fiendish scorpion a final command in Infernal, waving an imperious hand at the Warden's feathered friend before closing the door and heading down to the second level.

Stepping over the charred body of their fallen fellow inmate, Senara grabs the Sergeant's lockbox and drags it behind her as she makes her way downstairs. Her temper flares at finding their giantkin ally—who had previously boasted about not being afraid of "little uns"—fearfully hiding from the Warden's wrath on the second floor. Unlike her companions, the exacting noblewoman is not nearly as gentle in addressing the ogre's cowardice.

"Is this how you plan to show your enemies that you aren't worthless? By fleeing at the first sign of danger?" Senara chastises Grumblejack. "You said you're willing to fight for your freedom, that you wanted to die with pride in battle. But when the opportunity presents itself, you leave your pride in a little puddle on the ground as you run away. Tell me, was liberating you merely a waste our time and resources?"

Grumblejack looks up and seems hopeful as your people begin to file down. He looks at everyone and nods before he starts getting just ate into with quip after quip about being a coward. He bows his head in shame. "Grumblejack is afraid of magic. He is beaten, poisoned, and shamed. Grumblejack run when he saw fire kill large lizard. Giants don't like magic." he says, his voice trailing off towards the end in shame.

Senara huffs a quiet sigh at Grumblejack's defeated confession and only just keeps herself from rolling her eyes at the ogre. Rather, she gentles her tone—slightly—and tries convince him of the virtues of magic. "It wasn't so scary when Ileosa here used her magic to heal you of your wounds, was it? If the Warden had created a fire by throwing an oil lamp at us instead, would you have still run?" She softly shakes her head, answering her own question. "I think not. Magic is only a tool, Grumblejack, like a length of rope or a longsword. And like any tool it can be used to help you or to hurt you. In time, I hope you'll learn how to master your fear of magic. For now..." Senara hefts up the lockbox and thrusts it into the giant's arms.

"The next time you abandon us during a fight, you had better hope we don't survive it."

"I believe Grumblejack's kind is scared of fire more than anything." Ileosa said as she tapped her chin. "Though I am not sure... maybe that is trolls?"

"Either way, lets get going! We've wasted enough time now." Ileosa stated before she looked to Senara "And I expected you to remember your word. As you where so unwilling to make a formal contract."

Ella stops mid-opening of the door to look back over her shoulder at her comrades, giving an arched eyebrow of Can we go now?

The party soon makes it's move as they see guards come pouring out the gatehouse intent on making for the Warden's tower.

Grumblejack in his shame, pushes forwards and takes the lead in an effort to prove his worth. The party follows closely on his heels. A lone guard, rushing to see what happened, is swatted with his former comrade and the two bodies go crashing off the cliff into the sea below.

The party makes it to the gate and the rope is brought out. Grumblejack grabs it and between him and Ella, the group is lowered down. Ileosa is the first down, and she quickly dons the cloak given to her by the servants. She runs up to the edge and shouts at the bridgemen while the rest of the party makes it down.

The bridge begins to lower and once it's in place all six of the remaining prisoners burst forth. It's apparent quickly that the Bridgemen have made a mistake and they rush forth in an attempt to stop the escape but the party makes quick work of overwhelming them with sheer numbers and power.

Once across, Ella and Grumblejack raise the bridge once more and lock it in place before getting their first true taste of the sweet sweet air of freedom. The map is pulled out and Ella quickly figures out the orientation and the group makes their way out into the forest.

The travel is uneventful. Despite the moor's confusing and deceptive trails and swampy mire, the party makes it with some ease through the night. But once they arrive, they notice another of their party is missing. They had noticed shadows once or twice through the swamp which caused them to speed up. It was during this time that Vriskella disappeared.

Still, the party makes it to their destination and collapse panting upon the doorstep.

As if the timing of your arrival was preordained, Tiadora opens the door and steps out onto the doorstep with the party. She had changed her garb since you last saw her, now wearing a diaphanous white gown that makes her look almost angelic compared to her funeral dress from earlier.

When she speaks, any illusions about her angelic character are quickly dispelled. “Dearest, you took long enough.” she says pitilessly. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d ever make it. Oh, and you brought friends. The master commands all of you to appear before him but before that, you must be made presentable. Slaves!” She claps her hands. A dozen young attractive men and women all wearing very traditional servant’s livery appear quickly, their heads bowed. “These people are our guests.” she commands imperiously. “See them to their rooms. I want them cleaned, dressed and refreshed. Quickly.” There is something in that last word that sounds like a threat. Certainly the slaves take it that way, hustling to perform their duties. With only those words, she turns and disappears through the door ahead of you all refusing to listen to the party should they speak up.

All of you are led up to your own personal rooms by a throng of slaves. There are clothes tailored to fit you laid out upon your beds. In each room there is also a tub waiting with fresh water in it brought to a nice hot temperature. On the dresser by the bed is a large silver plate filled with enough hot, delicious food to feed two people and water despite the accommodations being for a single person.

Even Grumblejack is lead to his own room.

This entire place made Ella itch. Not the swamp with the swarming flies, sudden drops, and creatures that ate her fellow escapee. Places like that she understood. Life was dangerous but simple.

But nothing in the manor was going to be simple. And that made her skin crawl. Masters with clothes and food. Offerings meant to tie one up and make you into a slave. Just like the stumbling fools sent to serve her.

”Get out” she said steadily, expecting the tightening of her shoulders and force of her glare to be enough for them to understand it wasn't a request.

”Mistress said-” one of them blabbered out.

”OUT!” the large woman roared, shaking their bones and sending them scurrying.

She was no one's slave... but she did pay her debts. Sighing she stripped out of her rags and bloodied armor, instead of leaving which sense screamed for.

The bath was quiet lovely though.

Ileosa gladly followed the slaves with a small smirk upon her lips, knowing well as to why the slaves where as they are. She said nothing about it however mainly because she didn't care at the moment.

When she saw the warm bath awaiting she let out a long glad sigh. "Finally." She said before she allowed the slave to tend to her. Brushing out her hair then helping her to dress. Only after that did she take the time to eat. She was civilized after all and one didn't go after a fine meal while covered in filth.

After she came back down dressed in fine clothes with her hair nicely done she seemed to be back to her more glamoured self. "Oh the wonders a hot bath will do." Ileosa said aloud with a smile.

Senara has some reservations about being separated from her allies so soon after arriving, but has little chance to voice them as she and her fellows are bustled down the hall to their individual rooms. Once inside, however, the steaming tub and warm repast waiting for her go a long way toward allaying her concerns, as does Ella's ornery shouting. "Pay her no mind. She might seem frightening, but I know for a fact she has a soft spot for the help," Senara assures the servants attending on her.

It's all the Lady can do not to give an indecent moan as she slips into the tub and feels the hot water scour away the grime her skin had collected from her stay in Branderscar and trudging through the moors. As she allows the borrowed retinue to see to her ablutions, Senara tries to probe the servants for information regarding their mysterious host. "What can you tell me about this master of yours?" she asks, seeming nonchalant as she cleans out a bit of dirt that had found its way under her nail. If none of them answer after a few moments, Senara presses them, flashing the group a winning smile. "Come now, don't be shy! I can keep a secret..."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

Once finished with her bath, Senara approaches the bed and runs an admiring hand down the dress that had been laid out for her. While she can tell from the feel of the fabric that it's an expensive article, that is where its similarities to her typical outfits ends. Back in Eaglesport, Senara would have never dared to be seen wearing such a bold number as a red dress. She often preferred to dress in softer colors, whites and pastels to help lend credence to the wholesome image she worked so hard to cultivate. And that was to say nothing of the dress's low-cut neckline. But being in the company of like-minded people, Senara is glad not to need to keep up the charade and happily drapes the provocative dress over her skyclad form.

After dressing, the Lady looks over the refreshments provided on the dresser and doesn't hide her disappointment at finding nothing stronger to drink than water. But perhaps it is for the best. Despite the outwardly calm facade she projects, Senara's stomach feels as if it's twisted itself into knots at the unknown future that awaits her. Who would risk breaking six strangers out of the most secure prison in the nation, and for what purpose? Not for the first time, she wishes for the comfort of her brother's embrace. But as she rolls the vial of the Warden's blood between her fingers, she knows there's not time enough to carry out the ritual before she has to meet with 'the master'. We'll be together soon, Kaellan. With that, she tucks the vial in the only secure location she knows of—that being the artfully displayed valley of her decolletage—and waits for the servants to lead her to the master.

The servants are by and large amenable to a fault. Anything you might ask of them, they are willing to do (provided it doesn't involve anything they can't feasibly do from the manor or the immediate surroundings). Senara does her best to win over the servant attending her but she is surprised and perhaps a bit suspicious at how little they seem to interact when it comes to speaking.

After a few hours given to rest a small bit, bathe, eat, and recover the group is slowly summoned together down to the study of the manor. A roaring fire is going in the impressive library and there have been set out nice, comfortable chairs for the four surviving members of the prison breakout. Grumblejack is surprisingly or perhaps unsurprisingly not in attendance.

Despite this, it is apparent that more people will arrive soon for there are a couple of chairs still left facing towards the two more lavish chairs with their backs to the fire. The group is left to stew for a bit in the grandeur of the place, two attendants standing by in complete silence and stillness.

After what seems like ten or so minutes, your gracious host Tiadora comes out and smiles eerily "Might I present to you, your gracious benefactor Cardinal Thorn." she says bowing her head slightly and standing by the chair intended for the man in question.

A devilishly handsome fellow enters the room and takes his seat. He crosses his legs and leans forwards smiling at you all gathered. "Ah, welcome. I believe you to be the first to ever escape from Branderscar Prison. Well done! Of course, you had help from the outside." he said chucking a bit.

"Before we begin, let me bring forth some new allies. I see that the overgrown lizard and one of Asmodues's own has fallen in your escape. A shame, but I prepared in case you failed to live up to expectations."

With those words, two human males are brought forth into the room and guided to the chairs. The Cardinal looks bored almost in the time it takes for them to take their seats and he points his finger at each of you counting wordlessly to himself.

"But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I've helped you. Rest assured this is no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason. My name is Cardinal Adrastus Thorn. I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Mitran fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid sun god."

"For their blasphemy, I will see the same people who imprisoned and condemned you suffer. I understand what you went through for I have faced it myself." With that, he pulls down the sleeve of his robe and reveals his own runic 'F' brand. "I am going to burn Talingarde to the ground and from the ashes I will build a new nation that knows its rightful master. I cannot do this alone. I seek servants worthy of our Infernal Father's majesty. Have I found them in you?"

He rises and his eyes flash with hellfire and divine purpose. “Join me! Serve me well in this holy endeavor and I will raise you up in the eyes of gods and men. I will make you princes and princesses of the new Talingarde. Today, swear fealty to me and to Asmodeus." “Put aside forgiveness and I shall give you vengeance. Put aside mercy and be made powerful. Put aside peace and become my harbingers of war. What say you? Will you swear your allegiance or will you burn with the rest of the blind fools?”

Carys stood up in anger at the notion. To think that someone would free them only to try and bind them into slavery to them under the falsehood of serving Asmodeus's will. "How DARE YOU!" she raged. "You think to bind me in Asmodeus's divine word to your whims, you who claims to be his high priest but hides in the shadows like some coward. I will not be taken for some fool or your petty plaything. I serve Asmodeus but I'll never submit myself to someone who dares assume his will is Asmodeus's! Where is your proof!!!" she ends practically screaming the words at the man.

The Cardinal whom had been pleasant up till now and seemed a reasonable and passionate man, scowled. The woman's ire, had stoked his own and it seemed he was not one who enjoyed someone challenging his authority, even if it was in an attempt to force him to prove himself. His scowl quickly turned however to a twisted and evil grin. "You are correct, it would be presumptuous of me to demand such things without offering some assurance of my connection and his will." he said softly, the words filled with a rolling and gentle rage that promised pain and suffering.

He smiled sweetly up to Tiadora and kissed her offered hand "Please, offer them assurances of Asmodeus's will." She smiled down and him and batted her lashes before nodding swiftly. She turned towards her 'opponent' and her face twisted with grin filled with pleasure as blackish purple tentacles rip forth from her head. The scythe like tips dig into Carys' shoulder and pulls the woman close. Clawed fingers where once where sweet innocent hands pierce into the Tieflings armor like skin and Tiadora leans close licking the blood that gushes from the wounds as those claws pierce her jugular in multiple locations. She is cast aside and the transformation that happened disappears as quickly as it appeared almost leaving the room stunned by if what they had seen was an illusion or not, save for the evidence of their former comrade on the floor.

Tiadora smiles softly at the Cardinal and he nods back at her before addressing the group again. "Apologies, perhaps that is proof enough of my declaration as one of Asmodeus's own? Tiadora is a lovely young lady, but has quite the nasty temper buried deep inside." he said chuckling and stroking her cheek as if she was a large wildcat who'd just done a trick for their master.

He turns to the group and eyes the empty chair. "Hmm, well that won't do. I had hoped to keep her for myself, but it would be a shame to see you fail for lack of divine help." he said softly. He whispered to a servant and quickly another person was summoned.

A tall dark purple almost black skinned woman of gentle frame walks into the room wearing more leather than one thought possible. Her dress leaves little to the imagination of her former occupation as a pirate. Tall for one of her kind, she pulls off the tricorn hat and bows her head "What can I do for yah, luv? I dun sold you all of my herd and I can't be getting no more for you if you keep summoning me forth from my ship." she say with all the sass and brass of a veteran slaver.

He chuckles and turns towards the group "I offer you one of my more favorite recent acquaintances. She's been most helpful finding Tiadora the servants you've seen and tending to the wounds they've received during their training." he said politely. "Her name is T'risstree Hunzrin. And despite her rough appearance, is a healer." he said grinning.

T'risstree shook her head "I see where this is goin, looks like I'm drydocked." she said unhappily. She turned towards the group "As he said, the name's T'rsistree Hunzrin. But I don't take kindly to idiots who can't pronounce the finer points of the name, so please don't bother trying. Call my Triss, sugah." she said as her introduction.

Slowly Ileosa grinned as she listened to the proposition that this Cardinal laid before them. He was bright, she'd give him that, who better to seek help from that those who wished to see this world burn. Though as he talked she also looked the man over, trying get some understanding of him.

When he killed Carys Ileosa looked a bit annoyed. She felt there where better ways to handle that, though she did have to applaud his use of not lifting a finger himself. However she did have a small sour look from the mess the creature made. But the thing that she disliked the most was that he got rid of their main healer. "Yes, tempers can lead one to do... quiet foolish things" Ileosa said with a small sigh. Yet it seemed he had a back up plan which Ileosa smiled slightly at. "I can pronounce you name but as you have said you wish to be call Triss, so be it." Ileosa said calmly with a small nod. "And I am glad that even through, poor tempers, one was able to think ahead."

Then she turned her attention back to Cardinal. "Now, oh High priest you said that you would make use princes and princesses of the new Talingarde... which means one must ask, whom would be our King?" Ileosa began as she leaned foreword in her seat. "I've quiet a bit of ambition on my own. Before I was taken away there was a large plan I had set into motion which has now become impossible. Make it real, and I'll follow you anywhere you might go." Ileosa said with Cheshire grin. "I don't want to be a princess, no my sights where set higher than that." She explained. "The First lead you to me, and now allowed me to come to you as you had planned. I see this as a gift, and wish to take full advantage of such a thing. I think we can both agree that gifts from our Infernal Father should not be squandered!"

Leaning against a bookcase with her thick arms crossed tightly under her chest, Ella's mismatched eyes glared a barely contained fury at their 'benefactor' and his pet tentacle beast. She lowered her eyes briefly at Carys' stupidity, taking a deep slow breath to try and calm herself down. The lawyer didn't seem stupid during their escape... odd but not stupid. But one mention of her precious Devil Lord and all sense was lost. All because of Faith, the divine ultimate stupid pill.

Debts she understood, accepted even. But SERVE HIM?!? The very thought of Serving anyone made her arms tighten harder... made her want to take her chances, to pull down this bookcase on top of Mr. Devilishly Handsome full of himself, kick his pet thing in the fire, and then beat anyone upset about it with one of these quite fine chairs!

But Ella wasn't stupid, not like the mangled bloody corpse of their once cleric. She had seen enough to know she couldn't win... not now at least. So inch by inch, she relaxed, uncrossed her arms and thought.

Born to dirt and aspiring to little more than wanting to be left alone, Ella did not a princess make. The very thought made her snort, drawing a notice from the again lovely Tiadora, away from the already scheming Ileosa. Ella met its eyes, and instead of spitting on it like she wanted, she just gave it a nod, and went back to her thoughts.

Tearing down the Shining Lord's hypocrites though... that she could get behind. The Asomdeons weren't much better but at least they were honest about what they were. All the holier than thou masking power hungry pricks would be broken, and that would be a thing of splendor.

She decided, but instead of voicing anything, she simply smiled, listened and waited to see if anyone else gets eaten.

The first man to enter the room was young, moderately attractive though not enough to really stand out too noticeably. While he wore a charming smile as he approached his clean shaven face was actually quite plain. His nose was perhaps a shade more angular than normal and his short blonde hair was quite lightly colored but other than that there wasn’t much remarkable about him. Which was intentional on his part. Silas’ job was to not stand out when he didn’t want to, to emphasize the feature that helped him blend into the background as much as possible. That was why when he came in he could almost have been mistaken for one of the servants, he wasn’t dressed in especially luxurious clothing. Instead he was wearing well made but simple attire, not so very different from the servant’s livery. Tiadora had sniffed at him over it when he had requested it but he had found the clothes waiting for him this morning before he was called to the meeting. He sat down and nodded at anyone who glanced his way, almost disturbingly chipper and friendly seeming. That was a facade of course, honest emotion didn’t come as easily to him as most people. He found that it was easier to constantly hide behind the false face than risk letting it drop at an inopportune time though. Getting comfortable he sits back in his seat and rests his hand on his forearm, where he could easily pull out the kukri he had hidden up his sleeve. Not that he imagined he would be needing it right now, but feeling it there comforted him. And truth be told a little comfort right now was welcome. He had been brought here on very little information with the promise that his faith in Asmodeus had marked his as worthy of a great opportunity. He hid his curiosity as best he could but he was just as eager to hear what this Cardinal Thorn had to say as the newest arrivals were.

It didn’t take long before he found himself nodding along to what the Cardinal was saying. He had never heard of Adrastus Thorn but that wasn’t especially surprising. The Apostles of Asmodeus had been a small group that separated itself from most of society for secrecies stake. At the time of their activity though he had never imagined that there might be others who were faithful to the God-Fiend hidden elsewhere in Talingarde. When the Cardinal showed them the brand on his arm it was clear that he had not escaped the judgement of the holier-than-thou Mitran scum who had killed the Apostles. When Carys began her short lived tirade Silas felt himself reaching for the hilt of his kukri. But before he could even think of drawing it Tiadora stepped in and made short work of the young woman. Although the demonstration was clearly meant to cow any dissent, it was also so carefully executed that Silas felt himself genuinely smiling. The quick puncture of the jugular in multiple locations and it was done. As a professional Silas was in awe of the precision and speed that Tiadora had dispatched her. Still, it did send a very clear message. Thankfully it wasn’t one that Silas had trouble accepting. The strong should govern the weak, a lesser should acknowledge their better. Right now he was staring at his betters and he could appreciate that fact.

“Pleasure to meet you Triss,” Silas says nodding her way with a brilliantly put on smile. He then faces Thorn and puts a hand on his chest, “I see now why I was brought here. My mission as an Apostle of Asmodeus was an abject failure, it fell apart before it could get off the ground. I was to be the one to drive a blade into the heart of this arrogant kingdom but I nearly lost my life before accomplishing my purpose. If you would empower me to accomplish that goal then I would be in your debt. The Lord of the Pit has use for me yet it seems.”

“Nice to meet you all by the way, Silas. I suppose I'll be working with any of you that posses more survival instincts than that one,” Silas says turning and looking at the rest of the group, casually kicking the corpse on the ground to make his point. Despite the rough disregard for the departed he smiles warmly and waves as if at a dinner party, rather than a mansion in the woods plotting the downfall of a nation.

Bluff: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20 to seem happy/friendly.

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Godfrey Leitner, former prisoner of that shining paragon of virtue and law known as Talingarde, is bored. Intellectually, he knows that his boredom is a far better turn of fate then the alternative. He knows that by now echoing screams as he burned alive would have been greeted by the hypocritical cheers of the Mitran sheep. He knows that his very soul would be condemned to the oh-so-tender mercies of the Source of Lies, Geryon. And yet he is still bored. Never a hedonist, Godfrey found the ongoing luxury of his quarters to be pleasant enough. What he lacked, however, was mental stimulation. It had been years since he had gone a day without seeking some new arcane secret or snippet of forbidden lore. Now locked away and ignored by his mysterious rescuer for a day and a half, he found himself pacing restlessly.

The sudden knock on his door -in fact the first noise from outside his room he'd heard since the mysterious woman left- startles him. He throws open the door, eager to meet his host at long last. Another liveried servant stands before him. In a strangely monotone voice, the butler says, "If you will follow me, his Lordship will see you now." Without another word, the man turns on his heel and makes his way down the hall. Tutting in vexation, Godfrey casts one last look in the mirror -sufficient, but far from exemplary. This will need rectifying.- before he leaves to follow the servant.

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As he enters the study, Godfrey's eyes alight with greed and he immediately begins to scan the titles of books that line the walls. This benefactor of mine may well be a man or woman after my own heart. And if he has no love for Mitra... well my capture may well be a profitable accident after all. A chuckle bubbles from deep within his chest, and it takes him a moment to realize that there are already people in the room. Sitting next to his beautiful rescuer is a handsome, well-dressed man that he assumes is his benefactor. He bows deeply to the man before taking a seat, his eyes already skimming over his fellows. A younger man, a tiefling, and a trio of beautiful young woman sat looking back at him. He nods politely to each in turn, though his eyes linger on one in particular. That blond girl (Illeosa), surely I've seen her before? Unable to place the connection, he turns to listen to his host.

But enough with the pleasantries. You must be curious why I've helped you. Rest assured this is no random act of altruism. I have brought you here for a reason.

Godfrey's lips quirk in momentary amusement. I would think not... but what reason?

I am the last high priest of Asmodeus left on the island of Talingarde. Once the Prince of Nessus was rightly revered alongside the other great powers. Now, the king of Talingarde has become a puppet to Mitran fanatics who wish to destroy any religion that does not bow to their insipid sun god.

Godfrey's eyebrows shoot up and he whistles softly. That certainly explains some things.

And now the rest since I can make it into a narrative without the little asides more easily.

He contemplates the man's offer, silently running his mind over the possibilities offered by the future the Cardinal describes. Oh yes, this could be precisely what I had in mind. The chance to free myself from the absurd foolishness imposed by the fearful and weak-willed. There's a price to be paid, of course, but that is not so unexpected...

The violent raging of the tiefling woman break his contemplation and bring his attention back to the present. He watches her tirade dispassionately, dismissing her anger as the unthinking rage of the unimaginative. As she finishes her screeching, the subtly smoldering anger of Adrastus Thorn proves far more intimidating. There is no histrionic flight of fancy behind his words, only certainty and confident menace. Godfrey is not surprised as the woman is brutally slain. The sudden split-second shifting of the man's companion, however, elicit a small gasp from the arcanist.

Still surprised by the woman's fiendish nature, and suddenly much more wary, Godfrey casts only a cursory glance at the newcomer. Reflexively, his courtly training kicks in and he nods politely and offers, "Charmed, I'm sure. Godfrey Leitner at your service, Triss. And of course at yours, Silas." He eyes the corpse on the ground a moment, then continues, "Yes, I think you'll find I, for one, have a stronger attachment to the mortal coil then that one did. And of course, the offer is tempting in and of itself." He pauses to gesture grandly, as if envisaging the glories and riches that could be his should the succeed, "To be Lords of a new land freed from the pusillanimous, feckless mewling of the Mitran's is enticing. Power, wealth, and more would be ours for the taking. Yes... most glorious indeed." Godfrey turns back to Adrastus Thorn and asks the man directly, "This, of course, if we can actually seize control of the land. The sheep may whimper before we wolves, but there are enough of them for us to choke on."

He pauses here, studying the man who demands his fealty. Little enough choice... His eyes dart to the corpse and then back. "But I think you may well have the vision. It will be a monumental task, but those are the only ones who rewards are worth reaping. Better to die, spitting in the eye of those who have wronged me then to sit in a corner and whimper like a whipped cur. I, for one, will join you." The dramatics of the moment are somewhat ruined as he continues, "Well, for two I suppose. Silas did already. Three, perhaps, if that young woman's inane mumbling can be interpreted as a granting of fealty."

Words, words, words. Ella has the feeling she is going to drown in them working with this group. If the illustrious Thorn looks over for her answer, she'll simply nod again.

... casually kicking the corpse on the ground to make his point

Ella's eyes follow Silas' kick to her former acquaintance and she considers again using one of these chairs to introduce some manners. Not now, she tells herself, shaking her head, not now.

To Godfrey's introduction, she'll groan inwardly. Another noble, he has to be, why the bleeding hells does it have to be ANOTHER noble.

Senara settles into one of the chairs provided after being lead to the study, back straight, legs crossed at the knee and hands neatly folded in her lap. While waiting for the arrival of their mysterious patron, she lets her gaze roam around the sumptuously appointed room, trying to learn what she can about their host from her surroundings considering the slaves had been particularly unhelpful in that regard. Judging by the lavish manor and the multitude of hale, well cared for servants, she knows they're dealing with a person of means, obviously. Whether such wealth was inherited or they managed to acquire it independently remained to be seen, but Senara is inclined to believe the former if for no other reason that she doubts the ability of any businessman, legitimate or otherwise, to amass such wealth. The next potential indicator she takes notice of is that they arranged to hold this meeting in the library rather than the parlor or the dining hall, and Senara wonders if that wasn't deliberate, intended to impress upon them the notion of the benefactor's superior intellect. An egotist, then, she concludes. Which isn't the most terrible trait a person could have, so long as they had good reason to think so highly of themself. Whether that is true of their apparent savior, Senara supposes she'll discover that in due time. For the time being, she derives some small pleasure in being proven right about the man's ego as he makes his entrance, even as she takes care to hide her amusement lest she offer insult to her host before she hears his proposal. I wonder if they rehearsed that entrance, the young noblewoman muses cheekily. The lack of trumpets and fanfare seems like a missed opportunity, if so.

She glances at the two men introduced as their new allies and politely inclines her head toward them as they take their seats before turning her attention back to Thorn. Senara's interest is thoroughly piqued when he explains that he is a High Priest of Asmodeus, as is her sense of remorse for the irreverent things she had thought about him before. Now understanding the sort of man whose presence she is in, the Lady somehow sits even straighter and any trace of mirth is duly wiped from her face.

His vision of what Talingarde could be has Senara eagerly nodding along. A kingdom where the worship of her God was not outlawed but sanctioned by the state. A land where those brave enough to seize power regardless of its source were idolized rather than demonized. And although she takes umbrage at being referred to as a servant by Asmodeus' earthly representative, some of the sting is taken out of the appellation when the Cardinal follows it with promising to make them rulers in the new order.

For Senara, there is little to consider after Cardinal Thorn gives his speech and asks for their answer. Returning to Eaglesport, to her family and the only life she's ever known, isn't an option. Even if the town guard didn't immediately clap her in irons the moment she showed her face, she had seen the look in her parents' eyes when she was dragged from their home that fateful night. It hadn't mattered that what she did she had done for the good of House Davorim, bringing Kaellan, the future of their line, back to life. She knew as far as her mother and father were concerned, she is as dead to them as they thought her brother.

She has questions, to be sure, but before she can voice any of them her tiefling companion vehemently denounces the Cardinal as a fraud, leaving Senara watching the exchange with no small amount of anticipation as she waits to see how the Cardinal will react. Surprise, fear and disappointment are all felt in quick succession as the one initially singled out by Tiadora is mercilessly dispatched by inhuman woman, and as the blood cools, Senara is left with a newfound level of respect for Thorn.

"Back In Branderscar, right before we began our escape, I made an oath to The First that He would ever have a faithful servant in me if He granted me His favour and help see us liberated," Senara begins, leaning forward in her chair as she gives her answer. "I take it as nothing less than a sign of His divine will that I sit here tonight listening to your ambitious proposal." A pregnant pause follows as she takes a moment to search the faces of her fellow former inmates and the newcomers. Returning her gaze to the Cardinal, Senara gives him a single nod as she swears, "I'll join you."

Cardinal Thorn listens with curiosity to see how the assembled party reacts. He was pleased to find no further dissention in the ranks and smiled politely once again.

He clapped his hands and a servant moved off "Wonderful. Let us make it official then. Signing in blood is of course appropriate as it is tradition." he said as the servant came back with a lovely Hippogryph quill, two copies of a contract written on some unidentifiable leather and written in dark red ink.

He takes the knife and cuts his arm along the brand with it to provide himself with some blood for him to sign the contracts with at the bottom. He rests the quill upon his dripping arm and scrawls out his own eloquent signature upon both copies. He sets the quill down, Triss proceeds to cleanse it with her magic while he seals the wound with his own.

He looks at the others of his company now and awaits their signature.

He sits there patiently awaiting the party to sign their names in their own blood and politely even seals their wounds himself for them. Triss waits as she was the last to be brought in to sign last.

____________________________________________________________________

Once the party has signed the contract, he takes both copies and looks them over quickly to make sure they are in fact signed correctly and then hands one copy for the party to hold onto. The other, he takes and makes his way over to a small glass case and places it upon the pillow inside before closing the lid and locking it.

He makes his way back "Well done. Your first command: prepare yourselves. Stay within the manor. You are still hunted by the Talirean soldier. In three days we will begin your training." he says before he takes his leave.

Tiadora stays behind and bows her head slightly at the others "Delightful, I did so wish you had struggled more against the idea. A shame I only got to taste one of you. Cardinal Thorn has seen to it to provide a large sum to help outfit you for your training and beyond. This will likely be the last bit of favor he provides you before he expects results. Do not disappoint." she says almost challenging them to fail.

He blinks and smiles politely "The servants will be around to provide for you, see to it that you give them a list with the parchment and ink you'll find in your rooms with what you need to feel prepared for the training ahead. Get your rest...you'll need it." she says and with that she herself also leaves...leaving you all to talk amongst yourselves and to see what you have available to you.

Congratulations, your party is essentially given 3000gp. IE 500gp for each of you to spend to bring yourselves up to decent gear for your level. Keep in mind you do still have a chest with a nasty little lock on it should you choose to ask someone to open it.

Ella steps forward quickly, taking a copy and reading. At every loyalty, she swears something in a guttural deep throated language, and then something sounding really foul in another language like dogs yipping.

giant and gnoll

Rereading to be sure, she then sets the thing down like its a rat gnawing on her finger, stares down in a mix of anger, pure hatred and more than a little fear... then steps away I'm thinking, not saying No. Ella snaps at the tentacle lady Just give me a few moments... please the last word is nearly spit out, as if it is nearly foreign to her tongue.

She'll absently mindedly chew on one of her claws and pace in her own little world.

she will sign, cause she doesn't want to die, just needs to come to terms with the... um terms.

Senara fails to hide her surprise as Ella is the first, intrepid one of their newly cobbled together group to step forward and add her signature to the contract. But when the strongwoman refuses to sign and sets the parchment down with a snarl, Senara's expression​ changes with a roll of her eyes, leaving her pursing her lips in irritation at the changeling's antics. While she was no expert on the other woman's behavior, but she's seen enough to suspect that Ella has a contrary streak a league wide. Her very posture seemed to exude defiance more often than not, standing when she was expected to sit, folding her arms and tensing her muscles while she undoubtedly mulled over unshared thoughts. It was a wonder Senara managed to convince her to help kill the Warden. But help her Ella did, and now it seems time to repay that favor by keeping the warrioress from being the second of her allies to die at the ends of Tiadora's infernal appendages.

Rising from her chair, Senara moves over to where the Cardinal sits and takes the contract in one hand and the blade in the other. She knows the man's patience is thin and has witnessed the consequences of exceeding that patience, but a contract, particularly one of such magnitude, was not to be entered into lightly. And so she risks Thorn's ire, taking the time to review the terms and consider whether or not they're agreeable. With Ella's refusal still fresh in mind, Senara is both pleasantly surprised and a touch confused to find nothing particularly objectionable in the language of the contract. Being obliged to follow a person's every command is perhaps not ideal, but Senara has faith in Asmodeus and faith enough in the Cardinal to presume that the High Priest won't abuse the privilege.

Rather than waste much more time trying to figure out which of the loyalties chafed Ella the most, Senara sets the contract back on the table and presses the blade to her hand. With a quiet hiss, she draws the sharpened edge across the meat of her palm. Dipping the quill into the bloody inkwell she's created in the center of her hand, Senara signs her name underneath the Cardinal's own with a flourish. Once her wounds are tended to, she shows her gratitude with a deferential nod and a quiet "Thank you, Your Eminence", before stalking over to Ella.

With a hand at her elbow, Senara tries to interrupt the larger woman's pacing and lead her over to one of the far corners of the library. Whether or not that is what actually transpires is ultimately left up to Ella. A force of personality was only going to be so effective in displacing a force of nature, after all. "I can't claim to know you very well, but I think I'd like the opportunity to say, one day, that I do. But that isn't going to happen if you go and get yourself torn to shreds tonight," Senara states in a hushed but urgent tone. "Now, I'm not certain which of the conditions you find so distasteful, but ask yourself"—Senara pointedly looks at the corpse of their former companion—"Is agreeing to it truly worse than the alternative?"

Ella looks at Senara as she talks, not glares as normal, just looks. It is obvious a mind is working furiously behind the violet and cherry eyes. Eyes which briefly move to the corpse when directed, narrowing in thought as they do. Suddenly they widen and a half smile teases at the corner of her mouth. Looking back at the noblewoman, she nods and even bothers to verbally add a “Thank you” before she strides back to the contract. The large woman reads, and rereads, and than again, mouth silently speaking each word, before she grasps the knife, slices her thumb deeply, then signs her freedom away...

As she returns to her previous leaning post, she pauses above the deceased lawyer and gives her nod of farwell and gratitude.

Ileosa calmly got up and walked over, picking up one of the contracts and reading it over. "If you think I'm just going to sign without reading you've greatly mistaken. You're not the only one who calls on power from The First, Cardinal Thorn." She reminded him as she turned her attention to the contract. "What kind of Asmodean would I be if I didn't read first."

She took her time, reading over each rule as they where came in place upon the contract. 'This is the worst contract I've ever read. It gives no promise of what type of rewards or payments we will earn should we finish this, just that we would get rewards "as they deserve"... Vague. I don't like vague. Not to mention it gives him the right to do as he pleases with us and does not allow us any protection against him...' Ileosa mulled over the contract before she released it. She used the dagger to prick her right king finger, squeezing the sides to make sure she had enough blood for the ink. Then taking the Hippogryph quill she dipped the tip of it into the blood and signed her name gracefully. "I believe that should suffice." Ileosa commented as she headed the quill off.

Sorry for the delay here. I was running a tournament and just got back.

Godfrey gathers the copy of the contract he is to sign and reads, ignoring the prating of his peers at the terms. Nothing so very unusual. Somewhat limiting, but given the cirumstances... He glances at the corpse laying still warm a few feet away. ... not so unreasonable.

Taking one of the used daggers, he looks at the blood dripping from the blade with distaste. He barks a few words and his hand flickers through a few arcane forms. Apparently satisfied, he gestures and the blood flows from the blade into a ball hovering in midair. Joined by a few drops gathered from the floor, the ball finds its way to join the rest pooling by the dead. With precise economy of motion, he makes a shallow cut in his own hand and allows a small pol to collect. Taking up a quill, he promptly signs the contract with an elegant flowing hand.

"And there are the legalities of my pledge seen to, Cardinal Thorn."

The limitations within the contract stood to him. Cardinal Thorn was protected from them by the contract, but they were not protected from him. Still, that made a certain amount of sense. He supposed that Thorn couldn’t risk his plans by being displaced by an over zealous follower. Their fourth loyalty was to ambition after all. And several of his companions had expressed their own interests in being more than “mere princesses” in this coming kingdom it made sense to implement ways to curb their ambition somewhat. If his first loyalty was to Asmodeus, Silas could accept it. He stepped forward and drew his own blade to prick his finger and sign his name to the contract. Silas smiled and looked around at all the others, “Looks like we’re going to be working together for some time. It’s a rather daunting task we have in front of us. In order to work together more fluidly why don’t we all talk about what exactly we can bring to the table?”

Ella has her back to Silas, the hosts as they leave, and well... everyone. Having signed away her freedom, she's decided to lose herself in the written word, having found a volume written in a language she doesn't understand fully, YET, about ancient architecture.

Silas' question gets through to her enough, she turns, tilts her head and answers plainly "I rip things apart." Assuming her size and claws had actually made that quite plain.

Then watches him, waiting for his answer to see what he brings to the said table.

I'll be making my list for the equipment I have right now. Pretty baubles to trigger Extremely Fashionable will have to wait. I prefer the power of disguise from my Sleeves for now.

Godfrey, having signed his contract, takes a keen interest in the library in which they were meeting. He strolls along the shelves, humming happily, as he reads titles with obvious relish. He makes it only a few steps before Silas asks his question. Heaving a sigh of displeasure, he stops his meandering and turns back to the others. "Manipulation of galvanic forces, light, and even the mind itself are within my grasp. In simplest terms, I bend reality to my will. I'm also a skilled sword fighter, preferring a longer blade if I must choose. In my own unique style, I blend a mastery of sword and the arcane into one. It's quite impressive, as you'll no doubt see. I'll also flatter myself and say that I'm fairly skilled at the arts of deception."

Without waiting for a response, he turns back to the shelves and begins his perusal again. He does listen to the others as they respond, though the majority of his focus is on the books. Yes, this bargain is limiting but it has the potential to be most enlightening. There should be some fascinating tomes in here somewhere.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10 Looking for spellbooks or other books related to the arcane.

Ileosa, whom had returned to her seat after signing, shifted slightly when Silas asked what each of them could do. A fair question as they where all now bound to one another no matter how they felt about that. Though she allowed others to go first, even smiling a bit at what Ella answered. Or really how she answered. It was a rather true statement yet so beautifully simplistic.

Godfrey's was more long winded when compared to Elle's reply. But at the very lease it was well spoken and a fine give away that he was of noble birth. While Ileosa knew this, though she'd only met him in passing, she wondered if anyone else would catch on... well maybe Senara. But in the end Ileosa rose from her chair and gracefully placed her hand above her chest. "I am Ileosa Albus, and my abilities are granted to me by Asmodeous himself. I was trained for a very young age to infiltrate the court with a mission to spin favor back to the First's side. It was a long lifetime task I knew that. But none the less I remained undetected for four years. Two of those years I was the King's own mistress and one of the years I wasn't I was a passing friend of the princess. Of course the poor dear never had time for much. When I became the King's mistress however I was elevated to a place as one of the Queen's own maidens.... Though looking back... I never found out what gave me away. I must see if I can catch wind of what happened truly. Can't have any further performances endangered." She grinned a bit with a shrug. "I also know a fair bit on how to defend myself so I have many applications."

Ella's gratitude and easy acceptance of what she had to say has Senara drawing back slightly to look at the bigger woman with a narrowed, suspicious gaze. Whatever outcome Senara had been expecting when she took the other woman aside to try and make her see reason, it hadn't been for Ella to acquiesce. At least not before a few minutes more of arguing. The changeling had proven herself a fighter; of the lot of them, she was, in Senara's esteem, the likeliest to try to fight her way past Cardinal Thorn and his pet devil, which she half expects the woman to do when she marches toward the priest. So when Ella signs the accord without further incidence, Senara breathes a quiet sigh of relief. It would be trying enough being forced to work with three relative strangers whose capabilities were a mystery to her and whom, pact or no pact, could not yet be trusted. She had not been looking forward to adding a fourth unknown to their group.

Once the contract has been signed by all parties, Senara is disappointed by the Cardinal's hasty departure, but not surprised. Evidently, the title of 'acolyte' didn't confer upon them the privilege of the man's time. Nevertheless, being an 'acolyte' is still a marked improvement over 'potential recruit', she tells herself, eyes flicking over to the tiefling's corpse.

As the group begins exchanging introductions at Silas's prompting, Senara puts on a coy smile as she approaches the man. "Senara Davorim," she introduces herself, offering her hand palm down and omitting her former title. No sense it using it any more, she figures. Even if the Crown did her the courtesy of allowing her to retain her title after her sentencing, she is already focused on the new title she will be granted after they remade Talingarde to reflect Asmodeus's glory. If the other man, Godfrey, deigns to look away from the bookcase, Senara offers him the same smile and a polite nod as well. A smile that remains perfectly fixed as the scholarly fellow and Ileosa finish their somewhat self-aggrandizing speeches. "Well, I might have to disagree with Silas here. I daresay we have an easy road ahead of us with such talent on our side," Senara says evenly. "I look forward to witnessing it myself in three days' time."

"As for myself, I have some rudimentary knowledge of the arcane arts. Nothing quite as impressive or powerful as Mister Leitner, I'm sure," she says, feigning humility. "My specialty lies principally within the area of conjuration. Granted, it may seem narrow, but I think the applications are fairly broad. Healing wounds, protective enchantments, some small ability for harnessing the elements. My power primarily stems from my connection to the Lord's domain, which is not without its own perquisites." So saying, Senara moves one of her hands in a languid, beckoning motion. Black, sulphuric-smelling smoke materializes in the spot beside her, at first wispy and faint but soon becoming chokingly thick. With a faraway, echoing bark, two glow red eyes pierce the fog as the brimstone cloud coalesces into the form of a large, fiendish hound. Senara fondly runs her fingers through the stiff midnight black fur at the dog's scruff as if the infernal hound is no more than a house pet.

"So," Senara begins, turning her gaze back up to Silas as a slow smirk forms on her lips. "What are your talents?"

At Ella’s short explanation Silas nodded pleasantly, looking her over as if he had just noticed her olympian physique and dangerously sharp looking clawed hands. He had rather guessed as much. It appeared as though she had something of a temper, he noticed it flaring up somewhat through the meeting. But she kept it better under control than he might have suspected. That was good. Might often made right but it needed to be directed and controlled to be useful. Still maybe he shouldn’t risk prodding his new companions like he had by intentionally disrespecting one of their companions. He didn’t know if they were close at all. He had only managed to glean where they had come from in passing conversations, prying the servants and Taldora for information.

Silas looks dutifully towards Godfrey as the man expounds on his own talents before turning the majority of the attention back to the books surrounding them. He seemed quite full of himself, that one. Silas would have to see if it was warranted or not. If not another warm body always served as a distraction and alternate target if nothing else. The man spoke like a noble, perhaps he was one. Silas’ tutors had drilled that into him, he could put on the face if he needed to but it wasn’t one that he enjoyed. He prefered to play the happy, loyal soldier. That was the easier mask for him to wear, the most worn in. Perhaps he could learn a thing or two about refining his behavior in case he ever needed to pretend to be a blue blood.

Quirking an inquisitive eyebrow up at Ileosa he was surprised to hear that she had managed to stay undetected for as long as she had at the King’s side. Though the professional in him bemoaned the fact that she had not simply slit his throat when given the chance as his bed partner. Women had it easier in that regard. If he could get a man to underestimate him the way a woman could with a coy look he wouldn’t have to work half as hard. She was somewhat vague about her abilities but if she could infiltrate the palace once then her talents wouldn’t likely be wasted going forward.

Finally Senara introduces herself and Silas, perhaps feeling influenced by Godfrey and Ileosa shifts his demeanor as he bows properly over her hand, taking it in his own and hovering his head just over the back of her hand. Actually touching the hand with your lips would have been a very different kind of gesture, he remembered that much from his tutors at least. He then sat back and listened her her explanation. Thankfully it was somewhat more matter-of-fact than Godfrey’s grandstanding or Ileosa’s vague hinting.

“Ahh, but of course I have been rude,” Silas says with a small nod towards Senara, “I would not wish to gain information without offering some up as well. As many of our Lord’s followers I have trained extensively in deception and disguise. I have a decent understanding of Talingrade’s military structure, at least as it was a year ago. I’m good at taking things apart and seeing how they work. The contents of a locked chest are no more hidden than the insides of any fine citizen of his nation if you have the patience and the right tools to get into them. I find I enjoy getting into places I am not especially wanted.”

As speech after speech is given, Ella feels her head ache a little. She'd spend weeks with less talk than this evening alone. Shining moments of solitude probably long past. She already knew both Ileosa and Senara were quiet deadly, both with words and abilities. Like cats playing with mice, the two women set on the men. Ileosa darted in then danced back leaving little more than crumbs. Senara pretended weakness than shattered it in instant with another of her pets. Both equally impressive to a woman who was like a bugbear in a fancy shop.

Silas and Godfrey, Ella had no ideas about. Having never been keen on reading people, she took them for their words. Especially when she heard "The contents of a locked chest..."

She leaves quickly returning with the heavy, metal, probably more than slightly battered box. Dropping it on one of the fancy wood tables, and horribly scratching the lovely finish. Ella will look to Silas. "We took this from the prison, but it's locked. I was going to saw the thing off... but now we have you." she says stepping back to let Silas prove his words.

Godfrey idly listens to the replies of his fellows, eyes still searching the shelves for tomes of interest. Hrm, surely there must be something worth reading in this damnable library. He continues his search as Ileosa weaves her tale. From the corner where he'd disappeared, you hear him say, "Most impressive. To have infiltrated the King's private sanctums is a spectacular effort. A shame that you were unable to manipulate events in Asmodeus' favor before you were discovered. Ah well, there is always next time."

He stops and runs a thumb along the spine of a book (Infernal Beasts and How to Dismiss Them), then continues his restless search with a dissatisfied grunt. "Oh, I'm accomplished but no doubt so are you, Lady Davorim." From his skeptical tone, it's clear he doesn't believe that her humility is genuine. I just looked at a Take 10 Bluff vs Sense Motive as a guideline. Given where he is, he's probably be skeptical even if she sounded genuine.

As Senara begins to explain her own unique set of skills, his ears perk up and he turns his attention to listen more closely. He smiles delightedly and applauds as she summons the fiendish hound. "Bravo, I'm afraid you might dish me completely in the realm of knowledge of the Planes. I was never able to acquire any meaningful material of interest. I might, with your gracious permission, have to pick your brain on the details of your work." He emerges from the study's shelves and promptly begins to study the hound from all angles, muttering incoherently under his breath as he does, "...not so much larger then a mastiff... scents of brimstone ... odd eyes, perhaps ties to a specific plane? ..."

He is sufficiently engrossed by his study that he misses most of Silas' reply. The sudden shattering bang of the chest on the wooden table does drawn his attention, and he winces at the obvious damage to table. He looks from Ella to Silas with interest, then stands watching.

Senara casually waves off Silas's admission of guilt. It wasn't really an apology and she wouldn't really have believed him if it had been, but she smiles prettily all the same. While the man elaborates on his particular set of talents, one of Senara's dark brows quirks up in interest at the mention of locked chests. Apparently, Ella is of the same mind as she is, and as the larger woman leaves the study presumably to find the lockbox in Grumblejack's possession, Senara tries to deduce the meaning behind the last part of that sentence. Insides of any fine citizen... As in the inner workings of a person or, literally, their insides? Senara gives Silas an appraising look, one that might easily be construed as an invitation but she has a different purpose in mind at the moment. Earlier, during her former companion's tragic tirade, she had witnessed the man's furtive movement from the corner of her eye, and now, this close, her eyes can just pick out the shape of what looks to be some sort of weapon stowed beneath the sleeve of his tunic. A knowing smirk curves Senara's lips as she lifts her eyes to meet Silas's again. "Luckily for you, I'm sure the number of those places has just steeply risen."

Her smirk grows into a genuine smile at Godfrey's response. The man may be overly sure of himself, as many in the room are likely guilty of, but it seems he isn't fooled by pretty words and empty flattery. A fortunate thing, for she knows she would not have suffered working alongside a fool. "If it pleases you, Lord Leitner, but I don't know that my answers will satisfy a mind as inquisitive as yours," Senara says when Godfrey shows an interest in her ability. "I've studied the sigils and symbols, learned names and words of power, but, for the most part, my magic is intuitive. I could describe it as best I can, but I fear you would find most of my explanations terribly subjective." Shrugging one of her bared shoulders, Senara continues. "But as I said, I'm glad to discuss it with you if you still care to. I know there are a few things I myself am curious of as it concerns the two of you. How is it you came to find yourselves enjoying the Cardinal's hospitality, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Yes well..." Ileosa began as she slowly made her way back to her seat as she began to explain everything because of Godfrey's statement. "Plans to become the new Queen was a long and difficult path. I needed a reason for the King to want to make me his next Queen above all others." She explained. "I was hoping to wait till I gave birth to a son, then have the group that sent me assassinate the current Queen. Then I could whisper in the King's ear that maybe this was a sign. I had given him a son, the son he so desperately craved and the Kingdom so dearly prayed for." Ileosa said with a grin. "After a few years, and maybe a few more children, the King would... have met with a sad accident, leaving his very young and son in the hands of the capable Queen-mother."

"Yes, I was playing a long and dangerous game. But Asmodeus is worth it." Ileosa reassured them with a smile before she snapped her fingers and waved a servant over. "I've gotten sick of looking at the mess." She explained as she pointed to the stain that was once an ally. "Please have that cleaned up. It is so unseemly."

Silas quirks a curious eyebrow as Ella abruptly seemed to leave the room near the end of his speech. When she returned with a chest that she explained was locked he began nodding his head and started to inspect the chest itself. He looked it over, peering at the locking mechanism. Deftly he produced the kukri hidden up his sleeve and leaned over, “Now I can’t promise anything since I'm not working with proper tools, but let's see what I can do with this.”

He inserted the blade and listened closely, almost resting his ear on the top of the box itself as he manipulated the blade as a makeshift lock pick. Truly a set of thieves tools would make this much easier. He would likely need to request a replacement set from their hosts since his last set had been taken from him during his capture. As he worked he listened in on what else his companions were saying. It was interesting to get some idea of where everyone seemed to stand. It certainly appeared as though they had a good bit of magic and mundane trickery to call upon. He simply smiled and kept picking away at the chest after Senara’s first comment and when she inquired about how they found themselves in the Cardinal’s company he lifted up his sleeve for a moment revealing a brand.

“I was on my way to the same prison you all just left. The lovely Tiadora simply managed to waylay my transport before I ever reached the prison itself. Which is quite lucky for me. The wait time on drawing and quartering isn’t very significant I hear and I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. All told though I’ve only been here a couple days, so I’m afraid I lack any extra insight into our gracious hosts,” Silas explains, his attention never really leaving the chest before him.

---

Disable Device: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Ella watches Silas work, thinking it odd to pick a lock with a knife. At first she figured he was just showing off, but after his comment about tool she thinks "We have some... where are they?"

Remembering suddenly, "Wait!" she barks at the servants obeying Senara's command. They had been carrying out the bleeding corpse of Carys, now dropping her with a wet smack on Ella's order. The odd little cleric had been prettied up just like the rest of them, but after a few moments of searching pockets and pouches, Ella figured out the tiefling had decided the original hiding place of the veil was the nicest. Sighing, the hand slipped under the dead persons skirt and pulled magical instrument of their escape, reeking of piss since well that is what scared people did in the last moments of their lives.

Pulling the thread she assumed was for the tools as quick as possible, she handed the veil to one of the servants "Clean that." Rising she moved back to Silas and offered him the tools.

THere is some odd looks exchanged from Triss and the newcomers at the magical item and it's apparent former location but with the proper tools Silas pops open the lock and politely opens opens the lid for the group to see.

For the briefest of moments, you think you hear fanfare go off but dismiss it quickly as some errant noise from the wind outside. Despite the haphazard voyage from the prison to it's less than gentle unceremonious deposit on the table, a full dozen bottle of whiskey are found in this chest. However, that is the least interesting thing in the chest, for piled on top of the cloth separating the whiskey from the rest of the contents is....1,235 gold pieces. Thi is obviously the horde of money that Blackerly was swindling away from the guards and the prison as Senara discovered earlier in the paperwork upon the Sergeants desk.

Both of Senara's eyebrows draw upwards when Silas displays the runic brand on his forearm, but her expression soon falls flat as he relates the story of his escape. "Yes, lucky you..." she says, the sidelong look she gives Silas making it obvious that she doesn't share an appreciation for his fortuitous rescue in case her dry tone doesn't convey that properly. Senara holds the critical look for a few moments more before it slips, the young woman chuckling quietly to herself as her delicate features resume her usual smirk. "Not that you missed much in Branderscar. Once we took care of a handful of drunken guards and killed the Warden, it was a rather uneventful escape after that. At any rate, I might have been more upset at the apparent partiality if you'd managed to escape the branding as well," Senara readily admits, leaning forward with elbows on the table and head cradled in her hands as she watches Silas meddle with the lock. "What did you do that they felt you deserved to be branded before you arrived at the prison?" she asks, impressed and morbidly curious in equal measure.

Ella's sudden shouting draws Senara's attention, although she wishes it hadn't when she notices just what the boisterous woman is doing. "Oh for goodness' sake," she mutters, turning away from the distasteful display. And her claws... her mind unhelpfully supplies, Senara barely able to repress a shudder at the thought.

Thankfully, the cringe-worthy image only troubles her for so long as, armed with the proper tools, Silas makes short work of the lockbox. Leaning over the table to peer into the small chest, a self-satisfied smile bows her lips when she sees the bounty her search had uncovered. Reaching a hand into the pile of gold coins, Senara holds up a few of them before letting them fall back into the box one by one. "Foolish little man. He stole so much from the prison, but didn't think to hide his ill-gotten gains somewhere a little more secure. Well... that's the least of his problems now." Reaching back into the lockbox, Senara next retrieves one of the bottles of whiskey. Although she typically had no taste for the stuff, her body and mind both clamored for a drink after the events of the past several days. And since their host hadn't left them with a bottle of elvish red...

"Would anyone care for a nightcap?"

"I might well take you up your offer, Lady Davorim. Subjective or not, my knowledge of the planes and specifically the nature of the Infernal realms are woefully lacking. It's rather embarrassing, truth be told, but the Mitran sheep did a rather thorough job of purging such knowledge from common circulation." Godfrey listens to the others, gauging their answers, before he gives his own. "My -hrm- patron, if you will, is the Lord of the Fifth and Source of Lies, Geryon. Known also as the Serpent or perhaps the Betrayer. He is one of the Dark Prince's most prized lieutenants. Within certain arcane circles, I sought to spread his worship in a clandestine fashion. Lamentably, the man I spoke to was either a lackey of the Mitran church or an insipid lickspittle who ran crying to the very same. Either way, my 'blasphemy' was to be reward with a death by fire."

Godfrey pulls up an elegantly tailored sleeve to reveal a still-fresh brand." "Our own lovely Tiadora saw to my escape and thus I found my way here. I've been-" Whatever else Godfrey may have been is lost to the void as he falls silent in disgust as Ella recover's the veil. Recovering a small snuff box from some hidden pocket in his shirt, he sniffs deeply and watches silently as Silas finishes opening the locked box. He peers in as it opens, eyes widening in surprise at the obvious wealth contained within. "Something from your escape, I gather? A tidy sum, to be sure, and potentially helpful should some additional equipment prove necessary for this training we're to be going through. As for a nightcap, I'd be happy to join you." He snaps his fingers and gestures towards one of the servants who looks at him, "We'll need-" He pauses and ticks off the count on his fingers, "-six glasses and perhaps a serving bowl filled with ice and tongs. Perhaps a small carafe of cool water as well? I don't know how you take your whiskey."

Normally oblivious to the emotions behind people's looks, Ella does recognize one with ease. Disgust. She grew up on it one could say.

A deep hate blossoms from inside her, so powerful and quick, it would devour most. To Ella it is simply an old friend. So instead of frothing at the mouth and screaming, her eyes narrowed, her muscles slowly clenched, coiling to strike and----

No. she reminded herself. Contracts to the devil lord himself forbade it. If she wanted to live, she had to accept these people for what they were... Privileged little noble fu-

No. -- Yes, they are nobles, who would rather order others to do the unpleasant, when just Doing it was faster than explaining Reach into the corpse's privates and pull out what is in there. Yes, nobles who truly believed they Deserved all the offers of power this Thorn offered them.

But NO, because these--- they--- seemed to be willing to do something for the rewards instead of simply being born into them. Or at least they say they will.

Words again. Even spoken with eloquence and grace, they are still just words. But what else did they have yet really.

Rising and breathing back for anger once again, Ella walks over to the offered glasses, reaching instead for a bottle. "It has been a long day. Good night." she turns away without explaining, then pauses, turns back and grabs two more of the bottles. "For the ogre." then leaves.

Godfrey shrugs as Ella grabs a bottle rather then a glass. "Of course, Miss- it occurs to me I don't actually know your name. In any case, good night."

He turns to pour himself a drink. His drops his glass with a clatter, a few inches from where he had been pouring, as he hears her parting words from behind him. Recovering it -thankfully intact- he finishes serving himself and downs it. "An ogre? How exciting. I believe I told my story, but it occurs I've not heard any of yours."

He takes another long drink, savoring the burn of the whiskey as he looks at each of his companions in turn.

Ileosa's gave an odd look to Ella till she understood what the changling was doing. 'Aaah, fair idea... even if it is covered in... gore.' She thought to herself before she took glanced into the box. "Useful skills Silas. Come in much use I'm sure." She praised him more off handedly however.

When Ella grabbed a bottle and left Ileosa simply nodded and said "Sleep well Ella." before returning to the group that was left. "Her name is Ella, and as for our story well... there isn't much more to tell beyond what Senara here has said already. Now if you mean why we where there to bein with... well I feel my story spoke for itself." She commented plainly. "If you want Ella's story you'll have to ask her, but over all we're all in some way or another in the same boat when it comes to... the task at hand, and those who put us in the dismal place. However I will say I feel my punishment did not fit the crime! I am all for following the laws but really they did not do themselves any favor there. They couldn't afford to be honest." Ileosa said as she thought back on it all. "But, I'm getting away from the topic. You wish to know the story of how we got out of that place yes?"

Once the servants come around with the requested items, Senara helps herself to a glass and starts dropping ice into it using the provided tongs. Ella's abrupt departure garners a murmured "good night", but otherwise the Lady's attention is fixed solely on filling her glass. As far as Senara is concerned, her debt to the changeling had been repaid after convincing her not to forfeit her life over signing the contract. Trying to convince the coarse woman that it might be in her best interest to engage with their new allies, or at least forgo her usual churlishness for a few days, is an altogether different, perhaps more difficult favor, and one Senara isn't yet ready to undertake. Not when she has more pressing matters to attend to. Plink. Plink. Plink.

With a small mountain of ice settled in her drinking glass, Senara pours on the whiskey with a light hand. But when Godfrey inquires after her story, Senara gives a resigned sigh and pours herself another finger of whiskey. Sitting back in her chair, Senara takes a sip, and if the face she makes is any indication, the drink is not to her tastes. Swirling the spirits around the glass, she resolves to try again once she's given enough time for some of the ice to melt. In the meantime, why not regale her companions with a story?

"I lost my brother. He had been dueling, fighting for my honor when he was slain by the underhanded blackguard who had been slandering me in the town's taverns. With just a stroke of the sword, the future of our House was ended. We had his body brought to the Temple of Mitra. My mother and father begged the priests to bring him back. 'It is Mitra's will' they told us. Hmph. I suppose that sounds somewhat better than 'Our God has abandoned us.' Those charlatans couldn't muster enough divine favour between the lot of them to break a fever." Senara gives a derisive scoff before taking another sip of her whiskey. Finding the drink more suited to her tastes now that it is watered down, the Lady takes a rather unladylike pull from her glass before continuing her tale.

"That was when I realized we were all forsaken by the so-called Shining Lord. But I was fortunate enough during this period of enlightenment to happen upon my ancestors' altar room where I discovered that my family had worshipped The Prince before we lost our way. To make a long story short, it was there I discovered and carried out the ritual to bring my brother's soul back from The Boneyard, and it was there we were discovered by Sir Balin and his men not long afterward. And, for the crimes of kidnapping, murder and consorting with dark powers, I was sentenced to be executed at Branderscar." Draining the last of her drink, Senara sets down her glass, the action lending a certain feeling of finality to her story. "I'm sure you can guess how that story ended," she says with a smirk, the whiskey coloring her cheeks a faint pink.

After fiddling with it for a while longer he was brought some actual thieves tools, a pleasant surprise. With those in hand he was able to get inside and reveal a rather large sum of assorted coins, probably worth more than a thousand gold all together. He let out a low whistle and leaned back from the case. Then he looked over to where they were removing their former allies body. He shook his head as he considered how much of a mess they were making moving it out of the way. If they didn’t wrap it properly it was going to bleed all over the carpets as they carried it away, amateurs. As the others called for alcohol Silas simply made his way over to a desk to borrow a pen and paper to write down what he wished purchased for him. He’d asked for a rush on his blades because he felt uncomfortable without them but there were several other things he could use before they set about their training. While he was writing Ella made her exit. She seemed a short tempered woman, he would have to keep that in mind and avoid needling her. He passed the folded list to a servant with instructions to take it to Tiadora. Then he listened to the other’s chat about their old circumstances for a moment before heading for the door himself.

“I think I shall be turning in early tonight. I haven’t gotten much of a chance to explore this building and intend to make use of tomorrow to do so,” he says as he opens the door out of the room, “I hope you all have a lovely night.”

And with that he exits the room. As soon as he’s in the hallway his face falls into a perfectly blank expression. That was one thing he could say about having been captured, it hadn’t had to pretend to be anything other than exactly what he was for a while. Unfortunately that meant he was a bit out of practice. Luckily he would have some time with these new companions to get back into the habit before they engaged in whatever training lay ahead of them.

Senara briefly considers the bottle of whiskey after polishing off her drink, but ultimately denies herself the indulgence. The work she needed to carry out, the ritual to bring back Kaellan's soul a second time, was too important to risk attempting with anything less than a clear mind. "Perhaps our companions have the right idea," Senara comments after Silas takes his leave. "Besides, lovely nights too often give way to dreadful mornings, in my experience. I think I'll turn in as well." Rising from her seat, Senara inclines her head toward the remaining gentleman. "Good night, Lord Godfrey." To Ileosa and Triss, Senara is much less formal, flashing them both a smirk as she heads toward the door and tossing a clipped "Ladies" over her shoulder on the way out.

"Yours is quite the story, Lady Davorim. I bid you a good night as well." Godfrey drains the last of his whiskey, and sets it down on the nearby table with a satisfied clatter. "In time, I would indeed like to hear of your escape, Ileosa. For now, I think the rest of our companions have the right idea. I'll retire to my room as well, if only to have a look through this magnificent book." He gathers the Warden's spellbook, bows politely to Triss and Ileosa, and retires to his room.

When Ella visits Grumble's room, she'll deliver a warning. In his own tongue to make sure there is no misunderstanding. "If you try and leave, they will try to kill you. put as bluntly as ever. "But unlike the last prison, there is booze." passing the two bottles over to him. Taking a long swig of her own, she'll tip her head up to him and say good night.

"May sleep find you well Godfrey." Ileosa said with a pleasant smile. "I believe that it is time to turn in." She muttered after he had left. Part of her was unsure if she would be able to sleep well in this place but what choice did she really have?

After a few moments Ileosa looked to Triss. "I do believe we will see you tomorrow no?" She asked as she made her way to the door, pausing only long enough to hear Triss's answer.