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In the kingdom of Talingarde, many crimes may send you to Branderscar Prison, but the sentence has but one meaning. You are wicked and irredeemable. Each of you received the same greeting when you arrived. You were held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with a runic F. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’ and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the great and eternal love of Mitra and his chosen mortal vassals. Condemned, you face at best a life of shackles and servitude in the nearby salt mines. Others might await the “gentle” ministrations of the inquisitors so that co-conspirators may be revealed and confessions extracted. Perhaps, some of you will be spared this ordeal. Perhaps instead you have come to Branderscar to face the final judgment. In three days, the executioner arrives and the axe falls or the pyre will be lit. T hrough fire or steel, your crimes will be answered. You have all been chained together in the same communal cell dressed in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. Manhandled and mistreated, any finery you once possessed is either ruined or long lost. No special treatment has been given any prisoner – male or female, commoner or noble – all of the forsaken are bound and imprisoned together. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain. Your arms are secured to the wall above by manacles. A guard is posted right outside the cell day and night. Little thought is given to long term accommodations. At Branderscar, justice comes swift and sure.
Escape seems hopeless. You have all been well searched and every attempt to conceal anything on your person has failed. And if you could somehow slip your bonds and fly out of this prison, where would you go? Who from your former life would want anything to do with the forsaken? Despised, alone and shackled – all that you can do now is await your doom.
You also occasionally hear banging in the cell next to yours. It seems as if the whole thing must be made of metal. The guards shout for quiet and you hear a bolt slam back. The sounds of rattling chains and a hard beating follow. You hear a deep click followed by the words Hungry want food. Want food now no beat. in a deep growling voice. You then see a guard go flying back out of the cell and slam into the wall his head leaving a trail of blood upon the wall. The other guards back out of the cell grab their fellow and retreat leaving you there.
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"It's nice to see one of those bastards get what they deserve. What do suppose our vocal mystery companion is besides hungry to be able throw a guard like that?"
As is her natural inclination, Elaine is going to test the limits of her shackles periodically. She won't slip our of them but she will, at length, determine whether she could were it what she wanted. She doesn't want to be caught with her hands in the proverbial cookie jar, unable to get back into her shackles with no plan for the guards to find but neither will she pretend that the cookies of freedom are unattainable until she knows.
Consciousness crept back into Lauren's mind like Susurrus slinking back in after a night on the town (always at least a mile away). Her arm itched and burned simultaneously. Instinctively, she reached to scratch it. The rattle of the chain brought her surroundings into sharper focus suddenly, and she swore under her breath violently in Ignan. When you needed to express your sincere hope that a person's ashes be mixed with urine and vomit and allowed to fester before being fed to their mother, there was no better language. As for the person, there could be none more deserving than Blackerly. Amidst her fury, there was a strange glow of pride. It took her a moment to realize where it was coming from. Sus. He was nearby, and smug enough to suggest he'd managed to find his way in. Thank whoever still cared about her for small mercies. In the worst case, he'd be able to inflict cuts deep enough that she might bleed out before the guards could get a healer. It was remarkable what one looked forward to when the alternative was burning alive after Blackerly's men had their 'fun'. Not yet, though. There was a perverse mix of hope and irrational fear that said to put it off. "I'll kill him. Curse him. Don't care what. Something," she muttered in Common. It was foolish, of course. The best she could manage like this was a minor gust of wind or a pitiful hex he'd hardly notice.
A snear appears on Elaine's faded grey skin. Captivity does wonders to a person's attitude. "Sure you will. From where I'm standing you look ready to take on an army. What are you doing here, anyway?"
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Yzera looked around the room, surprised to see so many other women shackled with her. She wondered what they had done, and at the same time wondered what she had done. She knew what she had been accused of, and knew that the allegations had been true. The strange part was that she could remember waking with the blood on her hands, but had no recollection of having committed the heinous act.
As she tried to move, the bruises and welts from the vigilante villagers screamed in pain. She tried to stretch her neck, and as she did so, suddenly shivered, which was odd as growing up in the north of Talingarde she was used to living outdoors in cold weather.
With her hands shackled and no way to move, she once more looked around at her cellmates and waited hoping that one of them would speak so that she could learn who those with her were.
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Lauren chuckled dryly, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. "Yeah, I know. It's not happening," she said, sighing. "I'm just here waiting to burn. Plotting ways to get myself killed before that if possible."
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"I want to live not just to revenge my life, my house, but to restore it. To see the every man, woman, and child who bears the name Darius laid low and grovelling before me, for my lifetime, for a hundred life times." Drawing himself up to his full stature, he bent his knee before the shadowed figure, but he did not bow his head, "I will serve you, for I have felt the service you have done me before, and tasted the power that comes with it. If you will make that power mine, one day, in full, I will be your champion."
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Collapsing with a small cry, the unimaginably petite woman lays on the floor for a few moments and looks with horror at the chains that bind her, shaking her head as if in disbelief. He bearing changes remarkably once the guards are out of the room. Shifting slightly, her posture and bearing belie the filthy state of a prisoner, as if she were an honored courtesan on pillows in a palace. She turns to examine each of you in turn squints her large, beautiful eyes slightly as if pondering something carefully.
"Looking at the lot of you, I am guessing protestations if innocence won't get me far. I also guess that none of you are so keen on what those apes have in store for us... So... How do we get out of here?"
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Yzera looks at the tiny woman:
And how would you propose we escape? None have ever gotten out of here, or so the stories go. I am not an expert thief skilled at picking shackles latched behind by back. I am not a magic user who can unlock such shackles with a mere nod of my head. Give me a weapon, and I might be able to take out a few of them, but not with my hands behind me.
Despite her apparent belief that escape is hopeless, Yzera's sharp eyes scan about for anything of use in escaping.
Perception:
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You here a deep chuckle from the nearby shadows. A 2 ft tall figure steps out obviously a fiend of some sort. He is dressed strangely in some sort of trousers and vest and great coat. Imagine a Victorian gentleman in his finest. Good good you do have some sense.... I am here with an offer. One your friend Korwin there has already accepted. Take it and you will have a chance at freedom. Refuse it and well you lose your chance. My *ahem* mortal master has seen you all and your crimes and thinks you may be of use. My boss downstairs however thinks you may be keystones in his game of Tak. Should you survive the trials ahead. So are you interested? He pulls out a pipe and packs it slowly waiting on an answer and smokes it.
Again the transformation of Nemenia seems almost unconscious as the game changes, so does she. A subtle sexuality now exudes from her with only slight changes to posture and expression, but it comes with an air of strength and authority rather than submission.
A game piece, I think not... but even some time on another's strings is preferable to the salt mines where it may take too long to return from.
"At least as importantly, what is your offer and what might you require in exchange?"
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He puffs thoughtfully on his pipe for a moment. The sweet smell of the tobacco filling the room. A messenger of hope M'lady. As for my master I work for Thorne. For my he will remain unnamed as is best for you. Just say he wishes to twist Thorne's plans to his own ends. And to provide some aid to you in return for a hand here and there. As we speak Thorne's agent is on the way here. She will lead you into servitude and eventually death. I offer you life is that not enough? He continues smoking. And walks over to the sealed metal cell. He taps it. A low growl issues forth from the cell. Yes yes Thok. I know your hungry. The days be patient. The deep gravelly voice from the other day sounds once again. Thok think squawky imp lie. Trick Thok. If Thok no get food soon break free find and eat imp. The imp sighs and shakes his head. See what I have to work with normally? So will you take my offer or not?
Lauren looked intrigued. "He's an imp," she said absently to her cellmate. Representing somebody of either considerably more power than usual, or with spare funds and an odd sense of humor, it would seem. The former seemed far more likely from what she knew of devils. "You certainly have my attention, and I'm likewise interested in what the cost is. I have my own 'escape' plan of a sort, so you're bargaining against an unpleasant and painful death, but not the violation and burning alive that's scheduled. I do apologize if it offends any sense of irony if you're not sparing from a temporal fire only for something longer lasting."
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Well asked Nemenia. It is simple first take the help that comes to you tomorrow. Second break free and rescue Thok here and please find his left arm he needs it. Third kill everything and everyone in this prison who isnt you guys and Thok well some of the prisoners in the lower levels can be freed. But if you dont kill them you have to recruit them. Fourth make a ruin of this place as best you can. Fifth Ally with Thorne I will provide a way around the trap he lays for you. Complete the first through third objectives and my will grant you a small amount of his power.
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Oh your already slated to burn. All of you. You can thank Mitra for that. Thats why he has you branded. And no you won't burn. Not if you help my He will protect you from the flames even should you fail and die in his service. For you can always be raised up and made useful elsewhere and when. He doesn't make offers like this lightly. He values his servants and always seeks to better them. He sifts through the dross of each worlds and finds the bare handful it will produce that are worth his time. He takes one last puff of his pipe and taps it out on the wall. Then tucks it back into his vest. So yes or no? He looks at each if you in turn.
Lauren didn't hesitate. "Yes, conditional of course on the veracity of your words and the implied abilities and willingness of those you represent to follow through on their end of the bargain. Not that I doubt your word in the slightest, but I would hate to be sloppy."
Korwin is surprised by the overt entrance of the fiendish figure, but immediately smiles, and turns to observe the rest of the prisoners reactions. Not being able to speak to their ability or cunning, he has to wonder if they received similar visions, and at any rate is not willing to wholly trust this demon, even if he has agreed to accept some measure of power from it's master. "It is true, I have entered into a dark pact for my own sake," He looks from Lauren to Yzera, to Elaine to Nemenia, "But I did not ask for allies, nor would I presume to speak for them. Assuming you have more to offer us than kind words and veiled promises though, I would gladly accept your help out of this prison, along with my fellow Forsaken."
Where there once was a pale skinned woman there is now and always has been a man of similar complexion.
"I'll certainly be glad to help. These guards need to die, although I have a specific guard I need to have a conversation with first. My word is pretty good in normal circumstances and I promised to look after his family. As for once we're out of here? Well, I tend work for coin. Sometimes, briefly, I work to save my life."
He's surprised he hasn't been interrupted yet.
"I'll work for your boss pro bono on this job, 'life' sounds like decent pay and he gets the bonus of me saving these sods who he seems so interested in. He and I will have to talk about payment after that, though. I can't exactly run around working for some shadowy figure without coin to put food in my mouth or silks on my bed."
Nemenia listens carefully to what is said, smiles warmly as if dealing with an old friend: "I accept, of course if your terms prove to be less than reliable my performance will be permissibly likewise."
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Yzera continues to look about in utter bewilderment as to what is going on. While she would to be out of this place, and harbors nothing by ill will toward the horrible Sergeant Blackerly, she still does not understand exactly what this creature is or why, or how, five prisoners are expected to overcome and destroy the renown Branderscar prison.
"What is Thorne's flunky going to offer us that we should be so wary of and how, of all the prisoners to ever entered Branderscar, did we have the seeming good fortune to have not one but two offers of freedom in one day?"
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The imp chuckles. [B] No you misunderstand. I am not offering you freedom from here. That comes from another hand. No I am offering you safety from what else that hand holds. Now then the guards will not sleep much longer so I bid you Auf Wiedersehen. And goodnight. "
With that the imp seems to melt away. Where he was a something metal and shinning drops to the ground.
"Can anyone make out what the imp dropped?"
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Unless the metal item is more than about 4-5 feet away, Yzera will try to rip off her shirt - - and then tie one of the arms into a small loop that will fit around her foot. She will then drop the shirt to the ground and get her toe/foot into the loop and shall attempt to kick the shirt out such that it will catch the piece of metal which she will then drag back to her.
Assuming I can do this and reach the item:
Attack:
--> if a skill is required, Acrobatics (+7), Craft(+1), Survival(+5), Sleight of Hand(untrained)(+3)
Raising an eyebrow at Yzera as she disrobes, Nemenia nods once she retrieves the blade. If no one else can read the inscription, I have a way with languages at times...