Damien swings his fist, provoking an attack from the guard, who sees the punch coming from a mile away.
The guard's wild, frenzied swinging completely misses Damien, whose fist connects to the guard's face so hard that his head turns.
Xoruk continues his ritual, intoning dark words and making elaborate gestures as energy builds.
Soren brings her dagger down at the guard, missing by mere inches.
Shallewig punches the guard squarely in the head as he recovers from Damien's punch. This one knocks him out and he falls to the ground with a bloody thorn broken off in the side of his head. He moans in pain, clearly incapacitate.
Xoruk continues to summon a spirit, comfortable with the others taking care of the guards outside. "Done yet?" he asks, hands still gesturing. Strange as it seems, the ritual for capturing and subduing spirits is a long and involved process.
Soon after the final guard falls unconscious, Xoruk seems to thrust his hand into an thin air, before ripping a small glowing orb back into the material plane. Relaxing his grip on the spirit, it begins to float around the tiefling, before disappearing from sight once more. Stepping out into the hallway, he gives the others a grin, asking, "Right, shall we?"
"I might suggest some sort of plan, first." Soren says, rolling her neck. She pulls out the veil again, looking at it curiously. "Some of this... it would behoove us not to rush out of here blindly, when we are relatively safe until the next change of the guards." She the body of the guard from the chair, and sits down, placing the veil in front of her. "Hand me those tools," she says to Damien, extending her hand. "I'd prefer to keep them on my own person." With her other hand, she takes the dagger and places it lightly onto the veil, trying to discern whether or not objects can be placed back into the item after removed.
"Not to mention, there is equipment to be procured here, is there not?" While she makes no gesture, the two guards bleeding at her feet are the obvious subject. "Why not strip them of their armor and weapons? They may serve us well in our escape."
Xoruk gives the unconscious guards a passive glance. "Sure. Strip 'em and lock 'em up in our places. Show 'em how it feels, yeah?"
"Of course. We may want to gag them, of course." Soren sighs, looking over the stock of weapons. "Someone else can take their blades. I will take one of their bows. It's not ideal, but it will do." With that, she turns back to the veil, clicking the hilt of the dagger against it a few times. After a moment, she mutters to herself. "These symbols are... unhelpful. And unless we can place these objects back into the veil's magic for storage, removing them to examine them is futile."
The human witch retracts the thorns, swallowed up by her tan skin until they leave no trace. As the others strip the guards of their armor, she wraps her thick braided hair around the neck of each and pulls until they stop breathing. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and she smiles at their last gasp.
"I don't think the gag is required," she whispers. "May the Lord of Want accept my sacrifice and free us all to kill again."
She eyes her companions and stands. "I've little in the way of tinkets, but we should find their armory or such before we go. I can put guards to sleep, burn some, and fight some. I can also make their pursuit a bit more difficult. Those are my plans."
She looks over the offering of weapons on the guards and takes a simple knife before eyeing the others yet again.
"Now, then, which one of us knows the way out?"
Soren's attempt to place the item back in the veil fails, as all the dagger does is cause the fabric to shift slightly. Apparently, items can only be removed from it.
After Shalewigg asks who knows the way out, a deep voice can be heard at coming from the large cell door that was out and to the right of the prisoners own cell, "I know a way out, little'uns. Take dem sets o' keys and come here so's we can chat. Come on, Grumblejack not gonna bite ya!"
Also..forget that last bit about her taking a knife, then.
Shalewigg eyes follow Soren's dagger with desire. When the voice calls out from the darkness, her gaze slides left as if she could see behind herself. Her eyes narrow.
Xoruk barely even bats an eye as Shalewigg takes the lives of both of the guards, putting them out of his misery. "If we ain't plannin' on bein' subtle, I can make use of their bodies. An extra pair of hands might not be a bad plan," the tiefling states offhandedly. "But if we ain't intendin' to fight our way out, they ain't gonna be nothin' but dead weight."
When the strange voice calls to the warlock and his companions, he turns to come face-to-face with the heavily-shadowed cell the voice issued from. Strangely enough, he doesn't actually see anyone inside.
"Who are you... not human, certainly. How would you know a way out? It seems they keep you shuttered away quite well." She says this all without looking over to the other cell, still looking at the veil in front of her. Soren hands the dagger off to Shalewigg without a word, having noticed her eyeing it. She looks to the rest of the group, drumming her fingers on the table. "That is a question, isn't it? We may be able to forge ourselves a path out through blood, but we may also get cut down. Alternatively, we may be able to attempt some level of subterfuge. Depending on what we find in this plethora of surprises..."
Soren looks again to the veil, and decides to peel the bag from its place on the veil, along with the second dagger. "I believe the woman mentioned clothes, of some sort. I do not know if they would have included armor, but it will allow us to remove these prisoner's rags." She takes the bag as she moves over to the other cell, peering inwards. "And you... another wildcard. You look... an ogre. A Talirean ogre. Come, speak with me. What do you know?" She swings the keys around between her fingers slowly, clearly in front of his gaze. "If you can be trusted, and prove valuable, we will speak of releasing you from your cage."
Shalewigg cocks her head sideways and looks at the ogre.
"I can bind wounds or fashion a poultice if any of your wounds are fresh. But if your goal is not to leave with each of us in one piece, then you can stay. Are we agreed?"
Shalewigg cocks her head sideways and looks at the ogre.
"I can bind wounds or fashion a poultice if any of your wounds are fresh. But if your goal is not to leave with each of us in one piece, then you can stay. Are we agreed?"