Luke: Passes his save and directs sonic blast at Blackersly and hits
Morthos: Fails his save; attacks and misses
Affyria: Passes her save; casts command
Timo: Fails his save; attacks and misses
Daedalus: Concentrates on maintaining illusion
Price: Passes her save; sneaks away
Asturu: Dying at -12 (dead at -14)
After a string of bad luck, the shifter finally lands a sonic blast on Blackersly, eliciting another curse from your tormentor. Timo and Morthos both attempt to take down the guard closest to them but are foiled by the man's surprisingly resilient armor. As Grumblejack comes to bear, Price directs her attackers' attention towards the ogre and slips out of danger, leaving a trail of blood behind her.
While Daedalus concentrates on maintaining the illusion, Affyria calls to Blackerly commanding him to... come forward! He turns his attention towards her, a look of rage breaking slightly by an expression of befuddlement.
With the guards' commander so close, Grumblejack turns his attention fully towards the portly sergeant but rage blinds him and sends his strike wild.
Then Blackerly begins to move towards Affyria, murder in his eyes.
Grumblejack swings! And Blackerly deflects the blow.
Timo swings! And Blackerly sidesteps it.
Morthos swings! And Blackerly parries it!
The man may not be favored by Mitra but something seems to be looking out for him! Snarling as he swings his own sword at Affyria, "Die you Asmodean b*%$#!" His blade strikes true, slicing open a nasty wound on Affyria's arm.
Both of the guards, however, have turned their attention to the looming ogre, screaming in a half panic they try to bring down the enormous creature with their swords. One of them misses due to his vision blurred by the fog while the other manages to land a blow, scratching the enraged ogre.
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Grumblejack= 17/30
Blackerly= -10 (sword in one hand, potion in another), believes the illusion
Guard 3= -8 and Sickened, believes the illusion
Guard 4= -8 and Sickened, believes the illusion
Luke narrows his beady little bat eyes and aims another sonic blast at the hated guard officer.
Unfortunately, aiming to miss his new mates throws his attack off and the sonic screech hits the ground at Blackerly's feet... Luke curses, which comes out as a series of high pitched little cries.
Frustrated that he can't even scratch the portly man as he moves right by him, Morthos concentrates his attack upon him and raises his sword high before bringing it down toward his skull.
Edit:
It hits... just barely.
Affyria wrinkles her nose as Blackerly stops right in front of her, smelling of sweat and piss.
She thinks of hitting him in his big nose with her club, but glances at the wounded people and the lifeless form of Asturu lying there. Her fingers tighten around her holy symbol, and she once again floods the room with her divine energy.
Timo's eyes flash red as frustration mounts as none of his strikes hit. He notices Blackerly is distracted by Affyria and thinks he sees an opening.
Timo grins as his attack finally connects
The wave of unholy energy washes balm-like over Price. It opens up more options for the Inquisitor aside from saving her own skin. The smart move would be to back off and shoot arrows from the safety of the fog. But she was an indifferent archer and quick victory was needed now. She scoops up her club and brings it down in a whistling two-handed blow toward the guard's head.
The mists ebb and flow as Daidalos continues to focus, drawing away from the fallen guards to cloak Affyria and Grumblejack in their concealment. The wizard breathes deeply as he directs the spell to its maximum effect, trying to create ghostly images in the fog that might draw a blow away from his allies.
Luke: Scream (miss)
Morthos: Attack (hit)
Affyria: Channel for 3pts
Timo: Attack (hit)
Price: Attack (hit)
Daidalos: Concentrate on spell
Asturu: zzzzzzzz (stabilized by healing magic, so no longer dying)
The shifter-in-bat-form continues flitting about, tossing another sonic scream at Blackerly but it goes wild in the chaos of the melee. Morthos finds a small chink in the sergeant's armor, cutting deep into a roll of flesh and eliciting a scream of pain from the man. Timo adds insult to injury, striking a vicious blow to the back of Blackerly's leg, slashing flesh and muscle in a spurt of blood. The pair of blows have suddenly turned the tide and Blackerly looks like he's on the edge of death .
On the other side of the room, Price has recovered from her travails and brings a club down on the back of a guard's head; there is a sickening crack as bone gives way beneath the savage blow and the man drops to the ground like a bag of melons. Meanwhile, Daedalus continues to maintain the illusion.
Grumblejack, not the greatest of tacticians and still filled with rage, swings his sword-cum-dagger again at Blackerly. He hits, and the blow finally brings the hated sergeant to the ground, the man's sword and the potion he was carrying clattered to the stone floor. The ogre then moves adjacent to the table and growls in the face of the last guard.
The man, already injured, sees how quickly the tide of battle has turned back against him. He drops his sword and raises his hands, "Please... I surrender."
Affyria checks what she was sure would be Asturu's corpse, but she finds him still breathing. He's tougher than he looks, this author of blasphemy.
"He's alive, but gravely wounded."
Affyria pulls out the potion she had from earlier from the magical veil, pops out the cork, and empties it down Asturu's gullet.
Affyria then has a look at the potion that Blackerly had, testing it.
Timo catches his breath and puts his shield away. "That shouldn't have been that difficult." He then sees the bleeding out body of Blackerly and mutters, "Good... that worm of a man deserves nothing more then to bleed out in pain like an animal." Timo then levels his blade at the one remaining guard. "And what do we do with him.... Personally I'd like to gut him for wound he gave me."
The ogre stoops low to put his face directly onto that of the last surviving guard, a wicked grin on his face. "Grumblejack still hungry," he says suggestively, but then looks not at Timo nor Morthos but at Affyria and Daedalus, "but maybe you want him first?"
The potion causes the unconscious man to propel forth a mix blood and bile out of his mouth and through his nose. While the bleeding stops, he doesn't regain consciousness and still looks like he went to Hell and back again.
As suddenly as they appear, the fog vanishes, being called back to Daidalos, where it rests as a burning pentagram floating in midair while he continues to hold the spell.
"If we're pressing on still, I can hold this for a little while longer. However, I would prefer releasing it if we're going to wait a short while. Grumblejack, if you're still hungry, he's the one you want," the illusion changes to highlight Blackerly, "And, as you all know, I would much rather leave any who surrender alive, provided, of course, he cooperates."
Price touches the bloody wound on her head and winces. "We need him alive" ... for awhile at any rate. She heads back to the guardroom and returns with the remains of a burnt stick from the fireplace. She sweeps a portion of the table clean of chips and cards and hands the stick to the guard. "You're going to give us a map of the keep. Start with this blockhouse and move outward. Mark where we're likely to encounter guards, dogs, the lot. Also, are there any more guards on this level?" Then her thinking tacks, "What's your name and where are you from, son?"
No need to freak out the guard any more than he is, so out of his range of vision, Ineluki shifts back to his human form... Since no one mentioned doing it yet, he searches Blackerly for the keys he's said to carry ... and anything else that looks to be of value.
Seeing that they'll be likely staying in one place for a while, Daidalos reluctantly lets his illusion drop, then joins Price in trying to coax information from the guard, "Hello, friend. Look, I don't want to hurt you, and if you cooperate, you'll be just fine. Upstairs, one of your friends- he cooperated, by the way- is just fine, and will wake up with nothing more than a nasty headache. If you want to survive, please work with us. I do not want to see anyone who was just doing their job dead, but my friends are not so understanding. The more you tell us, the more likely they are to listen to my request that you will live."
However, seeing that he is doing little to help, he instead joins Luke in searching all the fallen guards for keys, weapons, potions, and similar. Once he finds keys (or borrows Blackerly's from Luke), he tries to lock the door going to their cell , in case the unconscious guard upstairs wakes up and tries to raise the alarm.
Timo, seeing the others have searching the dead and interrogating their prisoner well in hand, sheaths his sword and begins examine the desk to see if it contains anything of use.
The last of the guards stares at Price and Daidalos for a moment. His lips quiver as though he is about to give her the information, then a semblance of resolve comes over his face. "No. You're clearly trying to break out and kill as many of us as you can on the way. Mitra save me, I won't help you."
Grumblejack sees Luke and Daidalos patting down Blackerly's still breathing body, shrugs, then grabs one of the other guards whose life is ebbing, drags it into the corner, chops off a leg, then sits and begins to eat. He lets out a monstrous burp and sighs. "Ah... good food, not poison slop."
Luke and Daidalos indeed find a ring of keys on Blackerly, as well as a finely crafted longsword emblazoned with the symbol of Mitra on the hilt, 30 gold pieces, a suit of chainmail and a sergeant's uniform (now bloodied).
Timo finds a stack of papers on the sergeant's desk and other documents. It's a mess and his hurried inspection reveals nothing. Perhaps if he took a little longer?
Finally, also in the storeroom, is the brand with the runic "F" that was applied to each of you when you arrived, along with the brazier of coals (currently unlit) used to heat the brand.
"Friend, if you want, I can show you. Do you have any family that you would like to see? I can show you the guard we left alive upstairs, as proof. Anyone who surrenders, we will spare. We can spare you, as well. You can even save lives, by telling us which way will result in the fewest patrols. Or, you can die here and now. Your choice, but we are getting out. You saw what happened here. Do you honestly think any of your friends might fare any better?"
If Blackerly is still alive when Daidalos finds the brand, a wicked grin comes over his face, and he brings it into the other room, "Does anyone have any fire spells? Should we return Blackerly's favor?"
Next, he cleans off Blackerly's uniform with prestidigitation and dons that instead (unless someone else wants it) of his current uniform.
Finally, he conducts a search of the desk, followed by Blackerly's table and wardrobe.
He, too, finds nothing, but allows the others to also try and search it.
Morthos moves up to the lone guard, his visage stone cold. "He speaks truth," he motions to Daidalos. "You will help us or your time here will come to an end. If you are of no use to us, then we have no use for you. And yes, our plans are to escape and we will. Our goal is not to kill as many as we can, although, we are not above that; our goal is to simply escape. Those that get in our way and try to prevent such will perish. It does not take a scholar to come up with such a conclusion. Now, we will give you one more chance to tell us what we want to know, OR, do you see that large creature over there who appears to be eating the leg from your comrade?" he motions toward Grumblejack. "Well, here's your chance to give us the aid we need or... well, let's just say you will not die simply by the sword this day if you do not. So... what shall it be? The decision is yours," he tells him, awaiting the guard's answer in an uncaring fashion.
Affyria pulls out the cork of Blackerly's potion, and upends it down Asturu's throat as well.
"Let's hope this gets you up and going again."
Ineluki searches the table and wardrobe as well...
He is careful in his search, taking 10 for a 15 on both areas... When that's done, he'll go back to the game room and watch the interrogation ... i mean persuasion... of the remaining guard.
The search of the office reveals the papers on Blackery's desk include a mix of financial statements that appear to have a lot of after the fact edits and changes in a different script. That script seems to match Blackerly's handwriting in a logbook he kept (erratically without anything current or helpful). There is also a map of the area.
In his quarters, you find mostly useless junk and personal belongings but, under his bed, you find a locked chest, about two feet long and one foot deep and high.
Soft words and promises leave the survivor unmoved. He refuses to help (DC 25 to move someone hostile a step in your favor).
Ineluki will use the keys and unlock the chest.
"Last chance, friend, or you visit Pharasma today."
Daidalos' words fall on deaf ears however, and he simply shrugs, "Oh well." and cuts his throat.
Leaving the guard to his fate, Morthos moves into to Blackerly's room to see if anything of importance has been found.
Noticing Inelukii has found something, "Very good. Hopefully the fool Blackerly had something of use. He may very well help us even in death." He watches to see what lies within.
The guard collapses with his throat cut. It's not enough to kill him instantly though it is definitely a mortal wound. His life blood gurgles out in a froth as he gasps for air. The only word you can make out in his gasping is, "Mitra..."
Inside the chest you find a dozen bottles of cheap whiskey, a flask with some sort of liquid (several doses at least), six potions of one type, two of another, and a bag filled with gold and platinum pieces.
As he tests the separate potions in an attempt to discern what they are, he nods in acceptance. "Well done. This lot," he motions to the six potions, "will heal our wounded and these two here," motioning to the other two, "will apparently keep us hidden from animals. Which means we escape these grounds before they release the dogs." Noticing the great deal of coin, Morthos removes the bag from the handkerchief and begins to gather up as much of the coin as possible and places it within.
Daidalos looks around the desk and table for books and notes, trying to find any clues that might prove valuable in their escape. He then eyes the pile of coins, making sure Morthos doesn't try and sneak any away, ensuring they all go into the same bag, for group division later on.
Price stares at the guard's corpse then she regards the Wizard as he blithely goes about his business. She gets up. restraining her anger, and gets in his face, explaining things in studiously cool tones. "This escape will take cooperation. When you question a guard, I don't screw up your play. I try to help your efforts. Similarly, when I start an interrogation, you don't screw up my work with your ham-handed questions, and you absolutely don't get to kill the man until I say the questioning is done. I require only a one word answer from you spell-slinger - 'agree' or 'disagree'?" She waits for a one word answer.
"Agreed. But he seemed.... stubbornly opposed to helping us. And the last thing we want is him calling for help. I would much sooner not take risks in this matter if I can avoid it. There are always more guards."
The tall aristocrat groans as the lights go back on, but overwhelming pain and misery are still ever present. It takes him a solid minute before he finds his bearings, checking his wounds and wrapping what straps of cloth he has around the cuts and stabs if only to not make him bleed all over the place.
The fight looked to be over, but the squabblings continued. Asturu opted to remain silent as he was in no state to fight or quarrel.
With all the guards dead and the room thoroughly searched by his comrades, Timo pushed to move on. "There's nothing left for us here. The armory should be the next room if our prisoner upstairs is to be believed." He pauses to look over everyone's injuries. "Obviously we need to be better equipped, so shall we?" Without waiting to see if anyone follows, Timo turns to head out the door.
Ineluki, still carrying Blackerly's keys, since opening the chest, heads down the hall to the armory. He listens at the door before opening it, and if he hears nothing, he'll unlock the door. If he does hear anything, he'll listen for a bit and try to identify what he's hearing.
Ineluki doesn't hear anything in the armory; though he does hear some movement on the other side of the eastern door of the hall, it is feint and seems to be moving away.
Opening the armory with Blackerly's key (for the door was indeed locked), he finds:
Six spare sets of gear for guards including chain shirt, heavy steel shield, longsword, and longbow. There is also a rack with a dozen more leather-wrapped clubs, a stockpile of 240 arrows in twelve quivers. They all bear the mark of Talingarde on them (as do the weapons you've taken from the guards you've defeated).
In the far side of the room is also some sort of an "evidence" area, judging by the mismatched collection of gear and boxes. A quick inspection reveals:
* a shiv made from a woman's metal comb (treat as a dagger)
* a heavy mace
* spear
* quarterstaff
* battle axe
* rapier
* great sword
* trident
* glaive
* large club
Further, in a crate, you find:
* Two unholy symbols of Asmodeaus
* Asturu's formula book
* Daidalus's spell book
Noticing the inquisitor still a bit groggy, Morthos moves over to him with potions in his hand. "Here, take these, Asturu." He hands him two of the vials before moving over to Price. "And you take these, dear Price." He also hands her two of them. "We are going to need us all at full strength if we plan to make it out of here alive. If anyone else is in need of the healing draught, speak up." With that taken care of, he moves into the armory to see what Inelukii has found.
As the door opens, his eyes immediately falls on the greatsword. With a smile, he walks over and pulls the greatsword out of the box. Feeling the weight in his hands, he gives an evil grin. "Now this is more like it." he exclaims. Eager to put the new sword to use, he turns to the group and says "Quickly, grab what you need so we can get out of here and meet our mysterious benefactor."
Once arrived within the armory, Morthos notices the cache of weapons stored within. "Well done, Inelukii. And it looks like our over-sized ally has a weapon just for him. This is too perfect. We will gather up all we can and let the others choose their weapon. Then we find our freedom which is only the beginning of our revenge upon the pathetic king. But it will require more patience this time, Inelukii, a great deal more but that is no matter. For the next time we meet the pathetic king... we shall not fail," he says confidently, a wicked grin forming.
Ineluki looks a bit abashed, taking the mention of patience to be a comment on his rash attack against the guard when still in the cell, rather than a comment on Morthos' rash attack against the king that put them both in the cell in the first place... "I'll try to be more patient in the future... yes."
Ineluki grabs the shiv and tucks it into the belt he's added to his guard tunic...
Affyria looks around the room, and grabs the heavy mace, testing it with a swing. "Now this is something I can actually half-use," she grins.
Turning to Morthos, she inquires, "So, you mentioned a benefactor, but you never did specify who this actually is? Who gave you that veil thing, and do we have any idea of who this person is?"
"Agreed. But he seemed.... stubbornly opposed to helping us. And the last thing we want is him calling for help. I would much sooner not take risks in this matter if I can avoid it. There are always more guards."
Price's initial approval of his one word answer fades as fast as her smile. She holds up a staying hand, her voice remaining remarkably calm (as least to her) as she rebutts. "No. Don't offer rationalizations and excuses. He was 'stubbornly opposed' to helping you. We won't know if I would have been more successful." Now was not the time to discuss the manifold ways of coercing information. "Suffice it to say, there are many levers that can be used to motivate a man to speak and I was moving a few of them when you stepped in." She measures the wizard quietly for a moment, "I'm sure you're brilliant at dazzling the other academics at whatever University you're from... but I'm not them. We just fought a long battle in this room with weapons clanging and people shouting. So to claim there was a risk of a lone guard, answering quietly, suddenly yelling and getting help is..." she wracks her brain for the kindest word she can manage, "fatuous at best. Please don't offer excuses for your mistakes - own them - and don't try to minimize the damage by saying 'there are more guards'. Had I been able to question him further, we'd know exactly how many more guards stand between us and escape."
She smiles sweetly and steps a little closer to whisper privately in his ear, "And if I were to employ your bullsh!t logic about risks, I should have smashed in your pet guard's skull right in the middle of your conversation. In fact, I'd be fully justified in skipping upstairs and doing that right now, wouldn't I? After all 'there are always more guards'."
Price steps back and says quietly, "I hate using that sort of language in public but sometimes it's the only way to make a point. So, you have a choice: Respect my choices and I'll respect yours. Or keep stepping on my toes and when you get into serious trouble, I'll elect to help someone who has earned my assistance. Think on it." She gives him a hard look, indicating the conversation is at an end, then turns and sets about exploring the rooms found by the others.
Price examines the storage room and thumps on some of the barrels - considering their uses. She slugs down one of the potions handed to her by Morthos to dispel a persistent headache and ringing in her ears. Feeling much better, she continues on.