Mwahahahahahaha!!!
He lets the men take his weapons and his chain shirt from under his tunic.
"Altin, what do they want from us. I don't like the way they are looking at us."
Altin's normally expressive face is set like granite. "I'm pretty sure they mean to see us dead. Let's do our best to deprive them of their wish. But not now. If we keep our wits about us, we'll get an opportunity," he reassures Volreg.
Surprisingly, the adventurers’ armor and weapons are returned to them once they have been escorted by the emir’s guards to individual cells under the Royal Palace. Each cell is roughly ten square feet, with a cot covered with hyena and jackal pelts, a bronze chamberpot, a verdigris covered copper water pitcher, and a wooden bowl for meals.
The only doorway can be sealed by a heavy iron portcullis that raises or lowers at the turn of a winch mounted in the wall outside the cell.
All of the cells open into antechambers that are linked by corridors to the Bloodpit of Marrakech, a sixty-foot-diameter octagonal arena with a domed ceiling thirty feet high, directly beneath the Royal Palace. Lit by continuously blazing brass braziers, with a cunningly crafted clockwork floor that can be altered to create varying terrain, or sundry hazards—water, spiked pits, saw blades, et cetera—the Arena of Death is aptly named!
Keeps away from the palace, places like that have wards and means ones at that. No big public place is the place to meet up with the others. Like the deathpits. Hard to ward places like that, to many people.
So lord P keeps out of sight as the others are lead into the palace.
He goes to ground in the city, keeping an ear out for what the locals are saying about the place and those in it and the Arena of Death, and What goes on there.
A familiar face peers through the bars of the adventurers’ cells to confirm their identities...
I knew that our fortunes would cross our paths again... Captain Barak grins evilly at the captive adventurers... You thought to get rid of me, so I had to repay you in kind, my friends! Heheheh!
With Captain Barack is his First Mate, Toruko the Tengu, who cocks his head in a snarky, taunting attitude, but says nothing...
To the guards in Arabic: Yes, well done, men! These are the infidel spies who thought to trick us, and attacked us in cold blood at the caravanserai in Anfa! Toruko and I shall have to search the ports for my ship, the Alanqilis... El Jadid, maybe Safi...
As Barak peers through the bars, Altin waits till the brute has finished taunting them, then spits full in the slaver's face. "Go to Hell, Barak. Or better yet, wait a bit and we'll send you there!"
As Barak peers through the bars, Altin waits till the brute has finished taunting them, then spits full in the slaver's face. "Go to Hell, Barak. Or better yet, wait a bit and we'll send you there!"
You have spirit! Heheh... Barak wipes Altin’s spit off his face with the back of his hand... I look forward to watching you fight for your life in the Arena of Death! Hahaha!
To Mwikali in Kanuri: I pray to the Spirits of the Land that I don’t wind up on the dinner table... Shall I go and find Lord Perpireen, Mwikali?
Keeps away from the palace, places like that have wards and means ones at that. No big public place is the place to meet up with the others. Like the deathpits. Hard to ward places like that, to many people.
So lord P keeps out of sight as the others are lead into the palace.
He goes to ground in the city, keeping an ear out for what the locals are saying about the place and those in it and the Arena of Death, and What goes on there.
Lord Perpireen hears much talk about the Blood Pit of Marrakech, said to lie under the Royal Palace... In the Kasbah, vendors sell tokens of admission to the citizens of the busy trade city... Strange and exotic monsters from the four corners of the Earth are captured and sold to the Arena Master, who is generally believed to be Emir Al’Haaq behind a fantastic magical mask of disguise...
Much coin is wagered over the bloodthirsty contests, and different sheikhs and emirs bring their own stables of champion gladiators and monsters to compete for rich prizes in the tourneys...
A familiar face peers through the bars of the adventurers’ cells to confirm their identities...
I knew that our fortunes would cross our paths again... Captain Barak grins evilly at the captive adventurers... You thought to get rid of me, so I had to repay you in kind, my friends! Heheheh!
I will enjoy running my blade through your blackened heart, you foul piece of filth. Count your time....although you probable can't count that high....maybe get your pet canary to count for you... Vanna says, her wprds dripping with contempt and malice.
I will enjoy running my blade through your blackened heart, you foul piece of filth. Count your time....although you probable can't count that high....maybe get your pet canary to count for you... Vanna says, her wprds dripping with contempt and malice.
Such ugly words from such a pretty mouth... It will be a shame for you to be the meal of some terrible monster from the squawking wilderness of Africa, My Lady... You would be a feisty and stimulating morsel for the sultan’s harem... Alas, your fate is to be far less tender than that... Hahahahahahaaa!!
I will enjoy running my blade through your blackened heart, you foul piece of filth. Count your time....although you probable can't count that high....maybe get your pet canary to count for you... Vanna says, her wprds dripping with contempt and malice.
The Tengu eyes Vanna through the bars like a hawk eyeing a field mouse... The First Mate cocks his head and coos like a dove...
At an hour before midnight, guards bring a cart by each cell and ladle chowder with clams and oysters into each adventurer’s wooden bowl through the portcullis bars, and pass a loaf of unleavened bread through to each, as well as decanting watered wine into each captive’s verdigris-coated flagon...
The Evening Call to Prayer rises like the mournful howling of wolves or coyotes at a full moon over the city of Marrakech... A lonely, haunting wail like the song of sirens luring a ship to wreck at sea...
"Yes find the little lord" Mwikali says as she ignores the captain and his Tengu partner.
The comings and goings of Kiku the thrush are little noted by observers as he delivers reports between Lord Perpireen, Fey spy in cognitus, and the cell of Mwikali...
In Arabic: HAHAHA!! HAHA!! Such spirit! Such fight!! Save it for the Blood Pit, my strange friend! What ARE you, anyway? Are you related to some kind of genie?
Lord Perpireen! It's me, Kiku, thrush familiar in service to Mwikali... I hope you remember me this time, My Lord! Now is no time for hashish smoke! The others are locked up in cells under the Royal Palace! The mission is looking like a failure! They will be forced to fight in the Blood Pit of Marrakech, called the Arena of Death! They have their arms and armor, so there's that on our side... What are your orders, My Lord Perpireen?
The adventurers first night in Marrakech leaves much to be desired...
Dawn breaks on the 16th of January, and the morning call to prayer drones throughout Marrakech like the song of cicadas...
Altin wakes quickly in the morning, all traces of sleep leaving him as he splashes water on his face. "Well, as far as cells go, this is one of the better ones," he remarks philosophically. "So what's the plan?" he asks of his fellow captives. "Sit here and meditate like an Eastern monk until we get called up to die?"
At around noon, a guard arrives at each character’s cell to serve a breakfast of toasted flatbread smeared with goat cheese, a slice of melon, and a kebab of roasted lamb, washed down with strong hot gaveh.
"Well, true, I could try these locks, I'm just not sure it's the best option. I was at least going to wait until I found out how good the food is here!"
Other captive gladiators are seen only briefly in transit through the bars of the adventurers’ cells, and at random, infrequent intervals...
Altin sighs and sets to work on the lock to his cell. I am really quite hungry!
The comings and goings of Kiku the thrush are little noted by observers as he delivers reports between Lord Perpireen, Fey spy in cognitus, and the cell of Mwikali...
He sat where they had agreed to meet in the eve. Then the men in the towers sang to their god. Hearing what the bird has to say.
"I stopped smoking that stuff, it addles your mind to much and I need to think right now"
The old tower was full of sound as bellow the city ran to pray.
"Well this is a fine mess, we have to find those in this city who are not happy with the ruler. Those that would rise up and fight. Today I found some, some young men, very devout types, who feel the caliphate is a blasphemy. Real hot heads who want to change things. Now if I can trick them into making an attack on the citadel, then we may have a chance to get our Friends out in the confusion. See getting them out the cages is one thing but then we have to get them out the city."
The comings and goings of Kiku the thrush are little noted by observers as he delivers reports between Lord Perpireen, Fey spy in cognitus, and the cell of Mwikali...He sat where they had agreed to meet in the eve. Then the men in the towers sang to their god.
The old tower was full of sound as bellow the city ran to pray.
"Well this is a fine mess, we have to find those in this city who are not happy with the ruler. Those that would rise up and fight. Today I found some young men, very devout who feel the caliphate is a blasphemy. Real hot heads who want to change things. Now if I can trick them into making an attack on the citadel, then we may have a chance to get our Friends out in the confusion."
Hmm... Yes... I will see if any of the diverse animals of Marrakech might be convinced to help.us with our distraction...
Kiku flies off and about the city of Marrakech, talking to other birds, mice, rats, scorpions, spiders, and lizards, to see who might be recruited...
Altin sighs and sets to work on the lock to his cell. I am really quite hungry!
After a half a minute, Altin stands back, a satisfied look on his face.
Waking up, the farmer stretches a bit before realizing were he was. Looking about he calls out towards Mwikali and Wulfgar, "Mwikali, Wulfgar, are you two safe? I don't see the others, where are they? Wait, Altin's here? Where's Vanna?" After asking the questions, and the meal is served, the Spaniard enjoys the bitter taste of the hot gaveh. This might not be too bad for us. We did get close to the one we need to take care of, I think.
"Aside from a few of the guards getting handsy I am unharmed. As for Vanna, I see her." She says accepting whatever food is brought to her and eats it.
"I wonder if we can possibly escape from here. I really do not wish to fight for entertainment.I mean if I really wanted to entertain I would have learned the magic of music instead of listening to the spirits!" She says as she thinks over her spells and wonder if she can cast them in here?.
he wakes and makes his mind up.
"Kiku go see the others and ask them do they want me to help them escape from the cells, or use my plan of starting a city wide riot and have them get away under that?"
I can only see Mwikali...it seems they are keeping us apart for a reason. Like maybe we can conspire to escaoe this hellhole. Remind me to shank that pirate bastard when we get oit... Vanna says as she eats het breakfast. She then does a few exercises to stay limber and flexible. She then sits and mediates as she mumbles a few prayers in Latin.
he wakes and makes his mind up.
"Kiku go see the others and ask them do they want me to help them escape from the cells, or use my plan of starting a city wide riot and have them get away under that?"
Yes, Lord Perpireen, right away! The thrush flies off to the Blood Pit under the Royal Palace to deliver Lord P’s query to the others...
[dice=DD]1d20+13
[dice=DD]1d20+13
[dice=DD]1d20+13
After a half a minute, Altin stands back, a satisfied look on his face.
Altin manages to trigger the mechanism that raises the portcullis with some clever engineering using his lockpicks and other “archaeology” tools...
Having escaped his cell, he quickly finds and frees the rest of his companions, except for Lord Perpireen, who is at large somewhere in the city...
The adventurers find a corridor leading up to a postern gate opening into an alley between the outer wall enclosing the Royal Palace and the Kasbah... As luck would have it, Lord Perpireen is flitting about there scouting out the perimeter of the palace grounds...
"Let us get out of here, and then work our way to kill these bastards!" Mwikali says spear in hand as she looks at the others.
"Getting out of here would be quite preferred, especially if we can lay down a few on the way," Volreg says as winds and small arcs of lightning begins to flow about the man as he pulls out his longspear.
The locks are just the portcullis cranks. The gladiator cells (10-ft-square) surround the Arena, with back of cell inward towards arena, portcullis facing out onto a corridor that runs a circuit around the cells and arena, with more cells on the outside of the corridor in concentric rings.
Spiral stairs at cardinal direction points ascend to the Royal Palace and descend to deeper levels, where the cells of monsters and the chambers of their wranglers lay.
Fortunately, no one comes along as the adventurers are escaping their cells...