While Todin checked the bodies, Sotha searched the room for anything of use or value, especially through any open footlockers.
He looked over at Todin and said, "Have you found anything?" He said it to remind the noble that they couldn't just take what they wanted and keep it to themselves, they would have to function as a group and share amongst themselves. Of course, that didn't mean he would take his own advice, there were certain perks to leadership, after all.
Targi inspects the area quickly with an eye for items of intrinsic value, but she loses interest unless anything of particular sparkle crops up.
Shalastar flips through the cheap romances. "How dreadful, and how absolutely ironic. This sort of trype does more to decay morality than my influence. At least I'm honest."
Tragen quickly goes through the things with the others and picks up the whetstone, armor cleaning supplies and the book of military regulations. "Take whatever you think is valuable. Who knows what form of financial backing our benefactor has, so it's best to be prepared." He continues to root through the chests. "But let's not take too long."
Malak picked through the assembled loot and made special interest on one of the journals and the map of Varyston.
I think I have an idea of where Sergeant Blackerly is. Seems he has a penchant for gambling.
Ideas spun through the priest's head and a grin split his face.
Remember the word 'Hesterfield' my friends. It is the code word for the guards this week.
Sotha grabbed the quill and ink, in case there wasn't any available later on. He also took the holy symbol, wondering aloud whether they'd have to melt it down to gain a price from it. "If Blackerly is not in his office, then I suppose that is all the more reason to head there next, II'm sure he has plenty of value there, perhaps a map of this place, for example." He said. That he wanted a map, when Gordie could lead them wherever they wanted to go said all that need be about his opinion of the charmed guard.
and 20 gold plus this ring. Wont get us much but it is far better than nothing.
Malak was disgusted. He had lived a life of luxury and now here he was picking through the meager possessions of prison guards for spare change.
The office it is then.
"Trinkets and minor baubles... except for this!
Todin picks up the Masterwork Lute, running his hands over the wood and strings.
"A fine piece of work. Reminds me of the one my grandfather used to have in his study. I'll hold onto this if you all don't mind. And this should be useful as well..."
Todin picks up the whetstone as well, beginning to run it over the edge of his dagger.
"I concur wholeheartedly. To the office!"
Malak almost casually cast Detect Magic in the office...
Targi reaches for and (if unopposed) puts on the sapphire ring. She does so slowly but without finesse, her eyes wide the entire time in inadvertent imitation of a deer in headlights albeit with the unspoken message of "Try me if you dare!" Licking her lips, she eagerly puts on the ring and pets the gemstone a few times as if reassuring it, herself, or both that everything is going to be OK.
After a moment of rocking herself back and forth and cooing to her newfound jewelry, she straightens up, smiles brightly, and proceeds to see if any of the shields or armor are better made than the pieces she already scavenged. As everyone else clears into the next room, she dutifully follows with a bit of spring in her step.
...happy...
Seeing that the much larger Tragen was reaching for the whetstone at the same time, Todin decides to hand the object over to the larger and more imposing aasimar.
"I suppose I can spare this if you really need it."
Eyeing the possessions in the various chests Jack picks up the short sword and exchanges it for the longsword he carried. "I'm much more proficient with lighter blades." he states, defensive about the fact that he's switching out a heavier blade with more potential for damage. "A dueling sword would fit my hands better."
Seeing the various loot go into various pockets Jack's eyes light up at the sight of the wine and grog, which he hastily swipes and clutches to his chest. "MINE!" he snarls and, turning his back to the party, pops the cork of the fine wine and proceeds to gulp it down with alarming speed.
Catching his breath, staring at the now half-empty bottle, a smile creeps across the bastard-vampire's face and a long content sigh escapes from his lips as he sways a bit on his feet. Turning with the quickness and grace inherent to his race he smiles fully at his new-found companions, saying nothing. Walking over to the chest with the pipe and tobacco with limber movements and a spring in his step he proceed to sit on the chest and stuffing the pipe. Patting himself down a confused expression creeps over his face and he looks to the party. "Anybody got a light?" he asks hopefully.
Barbazu's beard! I could have used that! No matter. I'll let the half-breed get their attention while I sneak in from behind. Besides, I can hide my dagger far more easily should a situation arise where that's needed.
Your spellbook is not here Sotha nor anything else of a magical nature. There still might be something usefull. Perhaps more damning evidence our this Blackerly's gambling.
Malal will search the various papers around the office.
"Evidence won't matter when he's dead."
"So that door must go to the storeroom," Tragen said, indicating the northern door . "Where does that door lead?" he asks, pointing at the western door.
Targi snaps her fingers, and her index finger begins glowing with the yellow-orange incandescence of a forge fire. "You requested fire? she asks of Jack as he holds out his pipe. In the past two minutes the dwarf has spent more time meeting others' gazes than she has in the past day.
"Storeroom? That sounds like something we'd like to search!"
While you can't hear his thoughts, the impression is somewhat along the lines of: Haha! I'm finally getting what I deserve: riches! When we get out of here, I'll use this to buy all sorts of things. Rebuild. Refit. Todin, you're really going places, and these peons don't even realize they're helping you.
Todin saunters over to the storeroom door, opens it, and looks around.
Well look at this gentlemen.
Malak spreads the map out on the desk so that all can see.
I wonder where our Sargeant host his games of chance from?..
The priest will pointedly look at Gordie for this answer.
..but we can search his private quarters there til we figure it out.
Sotha scowled at Jack, though he managed to keep his tone even as he said "I might remind you that we are not out of here yet. Until we are, I would suggest you keep your drunkenness to a minimum," He left the threat, that Sotha would leave him behind if he proved to be a burden, unspoken. It was generally a bad idea to start with threats, since they tended to put people on the defensive, and were unproductive for that reason.
When he saw Malak looking over a map, he rushed to investigate. He called Gordie over as well, to question him. "Where did you say Blackelry's unlawful card game was held?" He pointed at the gatehouse (specifically, room 3C). "Here, I'd wager. As far from the warden's quarters as possible. It was the same when I commanded men in the field."
Sotha looked at the door to his right, and then turned back to his companions, "It seems we have a decision to make. After we loot the good Sergeant's quarters, shall we go after the man himself for the armory key he possesses and then slay the warden, or shall we kill the warden first?" He looked around, before noticing that Todin was searching the storeroom. He raised his voice and added, "Or would our locksmith like to try his hand at the Armory door, so that we are free to slay Blackerly for the simple pleasure of it?"
"I'm not sure this is the time or place for either drinking or smoking. Although, I'm sure, Jack, you look like you could handle the former, the latter produces an odor that can be picked up. Not something we would like to happen at this point in time," Tragen says then, after a thought, continues softly, "Although I did miss most of the fun had up in the cells..."
Tragen glances down at the map and then looks at Sotha, "We kill whoever we find first," he says matter-of-factly, "If we have to go searching, we can save the gatehouse to the last, since that will also be our way out."
Turning to Todin he says, "Why don't we check to make sure the sergent isn't in his quarters before searching the storeroom? The more noise we make the less surprise we have."
Tragen then moves towards the door to the sergeants quarters.
Jack just raises an eyebrow at the elf and takes another swig of the wine, never taking his eyes off the elf's, silently telling him what he thought of his reminder. Sighing loudly after the swig the damhphir smiles coldly and takes a puff of the pipe, nodding thanks to Targi, the fire was in his belly, the world was making sense, the headace was gone and his head was clear, Jack was feeling good. To the seven hells with the elf's reminder.
Sidling over to the map with a calm grace to his step Jack eyes the parchment. "This lot is as disorganized as a nest of rats, everybody minding his own little corner of the prison, hoping to stay out of sight from the bigger rats. We could set this place aflame and walk out the gate unmolested while they scurried to fight the fire and blame each other for the others incompetence. But still.." he mutters, an evil glint in his eye. "I'd like to visit the warden and give him a personal 'thank you' for his hospitality, and good Sergeant Blackelry surely deserves our personal farewells."
"So far we have raised no alarms, I say use it and raid the armory, visit the warden, then set the prison afire and walk out the front gate."
"I'm not sure much of it will burn. It seems mostly stone and iron, as good prisons usually are. But with proper fuel, I suppose anything can burn." Shalastar pipes in happily, after reading a bit of the torrid novel he had picked up. He couldn't resist the utter sappiness of the writing. "I'll gladly tear this thing to shreds to help it along."
Targi listens to the hushed discussion and tries several times to break into the conversation. "The armory must come soon. We cannot expect to get far with mundane tools such as the ones we have found already. Any venture is doomed without proper equipment."
Have to watch that one. He's trouble, she thinks to herself. Glancing at the others, she amends her silent observation. Nevermind, they're all trouble. Who am I kidding?
The dwarf has a valid point. Perhaps Brother Todin can assist with yon door?
Malak didnt care if they burned the place down or not...as long as we make it out of here...although Brandescar in flames does have a certain artistic ring to it...
"Considering there were two guards in the hall, it makes me think that, perhaps the game is not currently on and the sergent sleeps in his bed or, less likely, is actually doing his job and is on patrol." Pointing at the Sergent's door Tragen continues, "This door needs to be opened to verify this. If the sergent is there, we can get the key to the armory."
Feeling the door he says, "Now, is someone going to finesse this, or shall I begin making noise and smash it down?"
"Perhaps one of the keys we've found already... fits?" Shalastar asks, placing emphasis erotically.
Malak looked for a chair in which to rest...no sense just standing around...one should be comfortable when time permits...
Brother Todin, could you put those tools to work on the storage room door? Best we stay as quiet as possible for as long as possible.
Tragen shakes his head. "I would think that, if the Sergeant is in his room, the sooner we get in there, the better. If he is not there, then we can worry about opening the store room and the armory at our leisure."
"Gordie, do you know if the Sergeant has already retired for the evening? I think he was in on it." Shalastar says cryptically, again using his way with words to influence the mind weakened by his overwhelming beauty.
"It's a shame we have to break into the storeroom, but we don't yet have the proof we're looking for." Shalastar remains cryptic.
Tragen growls with impatience, muttering something before saying, "Well, if he isn't asleep in there, then a little noise won't matter," and with that he slams his shoulder into the door to the sergeant's office in an attempt to break it down.
As Tragen prepares to bash down the door, Targi mentions, "I will have the capacity to grant you a degree of protection when we face this sergeant, for one typically bears such a title after several years of experience." She winces as his shoulder slams into the door. "—often involving combat. Our success will depend on your continued survival."
Todin watches Tragen's blow with some amusement: "Well I was going to try one of the keys, but that works too..."
Malak looked into the storeroom with just mild interest.
Not much of note in here. There is enough oil to start a decent fire if we choose to go that route. Where to next gents?
Shalastar is bored by the contents of the room, and quickly moves on to something else. He stifles a yawn.
Tragen will begin to search the room, not caring about making a mess, knocking over the wardrobe after looking in it, flipping the bed over, leaving nothing untouched. He won't be needing anything here, once I get my blade into him.
"Ooooh. Clothes!" Shalastar goes through the clothing to see if there is anything even remotely wearable (silk, satin, fine leather?). He's still wearing prison clothes.
Malak muttered again under his breath and scanned the room for arcane auras.