Tragen takes another swing with his glaive, but this time the drunken sergeant stumbles out of the way.
Shalastar moves languidly towards their accursed enemy, relishing the gore already being inflicted on the lieutenant. "And now the moment of truth arrives. The leader of the cult in these prison walls. Death to those who oppose the Empire."
He walks slowly towards the enemy, waiting for an opportune moment to strike.
Sotha sighed, both at Tragen's impulsive charge and at Shalastar's increasingly tired rhetoric. He was looking forward to being rid of the pet guardsman, so they no longer had to put on these ridiculous pretenses.
He followed after Tragen's example, charging the sergeant in hopes of finishing him off.
Edit: Oh right, initiative.
With the battle engaged and the sergeant somehow finding it in his drunken state to be competent; Malak sighed and decided he had to do something. he muttered dark, hissing words and crinkled three of his fingers.
-
"You may hit him, if you like. These cultists must die. Their presence in the Empire is dangerous."
With that, Shalastar takes the jeweled shiv from his hair and flings it, point-first towards the sergeant's neck.
Seeing the fool struggling to decide between picking up his blade and yanking the shiv sticking out of him, Tragen uses the distraction to his advantage, slashing his glaive down upon the man.
Sotha also chose to capitalize on the opportunity provided by Shalastar, momentarily putting aside his shock that the odd man had contributed meaningfully in combat.
As soon as the sergeant was down, Sotha was on him, slicing his throat for good measure before patting him down for anything of interest. when he was done, he pulled the shiv from the man's neck and offered it back to Shalastar. "Well done. A masterful throw. He said.
"Ah, yes... It was, wasn't it?" He cleans the blade on any cloth the sergeant was wearing, licking it to clear any remnants of blood, and places it back in his multi-colored hair.
Malak inwardly applauded how easy the group had dispatched the sergeant.
And now we are free to just walk out the front gate yes?
Gripping his glaive, Tragen looks around to see if other guards were nearby, wondering if the rest were locked in the flaming tower.
Should none appear, he will approach the fallen sergeant and look over the items Sotha had uncovered. "It seems he was a cheat after all. Keep an eye open," he says before stripping off the sergeant's chainmail armor. Once it is off, he will look around again for any upcoming danger, before doffing his chain shirt and slipping on the chainmail.
Once it has settled around his shoulders he looks at what is remaining. If the longsword has not been claimed, he takes it, placing it into the sheath of his other blade while dropping the original to the ground by the body.
"The coin could be useful. The keys... likely open doors we've already passed, but there could be others in the gatehouse... and perhaps more kindling. It will be good to see the flames of this place lick the night as we leave."
"While there are a number of things that a still-headed body is good for, we should probably leave as soon as time and circumstance permits. More is the pity." Regretfully, Shalastar turns away from the sergeant's body. "And now, for a quick way out of here. I'm assuming you can lead us, Gordie?"
"We should proceed quickly then. The fire was a good trap for the guards, but it also means that the kingdom will likely know something is wrong before the night is over. The more distance we put between ourselves and this place, and the more directions we go afterward, the better we'll be."
Tying the sergeant's money pouch to his belt; Malak's grin was wide and genuine as he answered the elf.
On the contrary Sotha. Our path has already been set and we must stay together. Our breakout was planned by a mysterious benefactor and he awaits us now. We need to cross the moors and onto Old Moor Road where we will find a manor with a lone lantern shining.
The next part the priest absolutely hated saying but the magus had a good point about the fire.
So we should make haste. We have left quite the spectacle that is sure to draw the unwanted attention that has been pointed out already.
"I could provide the escort, I think. The sergeant does not seem like that impossibly good looking a person, but I can still manage. On the plane of Shadow, I would often take the forms of others for my Mistress' pleasure." He looks around at the others, innocently enough.
"But we shall have to make it through the gate first, of course."
"Indeed. The veil was given to us by an agent of our benefactor," Tragen says, nodding at Malak's words.
Tragen looks down at the body of the Sergeant and the pile of clothes beside it. "Assuming there are even some guards that remain, it shouldn't be difficult to walk out the door. It's dark, we have both uniforms and the password. If one of us took on the sergeant's form, we would be the ranking officer here, it would preclude questions."
"Easily done. Though I cannot imitate his voice. He didn't really say much other than 'erk'."
Tragen shrugs. "Perhaps the sergeant is sick and needs to use someone else, say Geordie, to do the talking. Is there a proper infirmary here, or do the guards sometimes have to go to town for some of their cures?"
"Or the other reason would be to get assistance from somewhere regarding the fire. But talking could still be an issue."
"It might be easy to pretend that his throat was badly damaged by the smoke. That way he would not have to say anything."
No worries, I will speak for you if necessary. Although at this point we cannot leave anyone alive that sees us. Better to let them guess who did all of this.
"If possible, I agree. But these agents might not be reachable if they stay in their towers and gatehouses. Are we ready to move on to freedom?"
"There is no time like the present," Tragen says, beginning to walk towards the gate. "Don't fall too far behind 'sergeant', and perhaps your 'underling' can take the lead here."
While they are still in the shadows between the buildings, Shalastar uses his disguise self spell to appear in form and dress as the sergeant.
Why you're the spitting image of our dearly departed sergeant. Very nice indeed. Shall we then?
Malak gestured towards the guard house.
"Shh." In his new guise, Shalastar holds his finger up against Gordie's lips. "When we have gotten through the gate, I'll go back to my own form. And then you'll get your reward for your assistance."
Sotha kicked the corpse, and rolled it over with his foot. For a few moments, he looked at the body on the ground and then at Shalastar, before he finally announced, "It's as if there were two of him. If I had a few soldiers with skills like that back in the military, oh the things I could have done." He was quite clearly speaking more to himself than anyone present, a fact that was reinforced when he seemed to remember himself and addressed the group. "We have discussed in detail how we will approach, and yet you all seem content to march toward our doom without a plan for when we reach it. Are we to be prisoners to be executed? I fear that would make an odd sight, the sergeant and one guard escorting all of us, unbound, the most dangerous of this nation's criminal element? Are we to lie in wait somewhere else, or sneak up as these two approach alone?"
"Well, whatever you decide, do it quickly. This illusion will not last forever."
Sotha considered the possibilities for a moment, and then a devilish grin played across his lips. He approached Grumblejack, though intending to stay out of smashing range if the ogre didn't appreciate the idea. "I have it! The sergeant and the warden have decided that Grumblejack cannot safely be held for the three days until his execution, and would be too difficult to dispose of afterward, so the warden used his magic to make the ogre compliant while we take him out and execute him now.
...the Dark Prince certainly has a hand in these proceedings...delicious indeed...
Malak was again impressed with the others' guile and malicious nature and thanked the Prince for having the foresight to put him in the same cell with these men.
Oh, you will get to smash Grumblejack. There will be lots of smashing to do.
Sotha started to head toward the gatehouse, but stopped short. He wondered if he should be the first one the guards saw. "I suppose that either Gordie or 'Sergeant Blackerly' should lead the way. Set their minds at ease with a familiar face and make it easier to accept that the strangers following are who we claim."
When they were moving, Sotha slipped into the middle of the group, near Grumblejack, despite his misgivings about fighting close to the ogre.
Tragen nods at Sotha's statement, having been about to stop the elf from getting ahead of the others. At least he realized the requirements. He then took up a position a bit away from the ogre, his glaive in a 'threatening' position as he gives the ogre a wink.
Shalastar, as the sergeant, proceeds towards the gatehouse at a slow amble, not quite lurching as though drunk.
He raises his eyebrows as they near the guards (if any are posted), nodding to them and returning a salute lazily if any are offered.
He moves forward to open the gatehouse door.