"If Rose's assessment is correct, as I don't have wings, I'd opt for the bridge." Kyras nods to Ulrich's suggestion but waves away Travis's offer. "I don't think I'll be much help with those. Let me know if you find a cane though." His limbs were still weak, but he was more worried about his fingers at the moment; his fine motor control would have to be on the level if they got into a scuffle.
Quomaugh grins at the offer. "Gladly!" he says, his eyes practically sparkling.
"Before we go, maybe we should find out what's in the sack? It might prove to be something useful..."
Rose nods and peels off the embroidered sack.
Sholano moves to Rose's shoulder, interested in what might be inside, if anything.
A large sack emerges from the veil, much larger than the silken surface it came from. Inside is a fresh set of regular clothes for each prisoner, in their sizes. Underneath the clothes are two small pouches- one containing a set of arcane components, the other full of dangerous chemicals and the like, carefully wrapped up so they won't break. They don't seem that they'll last Dr. Ulrich more than a day of use, but that should be more than enough.
Travis strips out of the ill-fitting guard uniform and dons streetwear in his size. He seems much more comfortable out of the female guard's clothing and he actually breaks a tiny smile that seems genuine.
"Well, looks like these things will come in handy. Might as well keep the sack too... it might be useful later, also."
After seeing the clothing come out of the sack, Kyras felt his excitement turn to paranoia. Who was this mystery woman? Maybe she actually was a goddess. Otherwise, how would she know their sizes? While pondering, he changed into the new outfit, his modesty a memory from before imprisonment.
As he picked up one sack, his suspicion became more pointed: just the things he needed were within. He gave Rose and Sholano a look. "I am rather grateful to this fried of yours, though I confess I am afraid of her as well. She knows ... quite a bit about us."
His thoughts turned once again to escape though as he rummaged through the materials in his pouch. Coming across a section of copper wire, his earlier ideas about the ambush return. He backs away from the others a bit in their cell.
As best as he could mimic the little he heard of the unconscious/dead guard's voice, his pointed at Sholano and whispered as per the Message spell "Think they might recognize me?"
The doctor seizes all of the alchemical components from the bag, his interest and attention now on preparing the admixtures and chemicals for proper use. Ulrich didn't have his lab to help him but these were much more basic components requiring the mere intelligence of a great wizard to understand...so he was done in a span of five minutes.
He holds one of his explosives and grins, pocketing it upon his belt. As for the mutagen, he kept that in separate pockets so as to not mix them up. As for his formulae sheet, he can only lament. Knowing the dullard, it was probably burnt by now.
Quomaugh gladly changes into the provided clothing, not for a moment worried about propriety or being seen by the others. "Ah! 'at's more loike it! Damned rags weren't fit fir a man 'alf me size," he states, testing the clothing for range of motion. "A'roight 'en, le's git t' b'iness," the Dwarf says, resting a hand on the hilt of the pilfered longsword.
"Turn around, boys." Rose said, pulling a small stack of folded clothing out of the sack. She didn't actually wait to see if anyone actually did what she'd asked. She just turned her back and peeled off her filthy prison rags.
When the shirt came off lifting her hair the markings markings that a few of the others had noticed at the base of her neck came into full view.
Rose's back had curves like a violin and was covered in a slightly raised brand shaped like an intricate pair of wings. It spread from the very tops of her shoulders where the feathers were small to stretch down her back and flare around the curves of her butt, trailing the longest feathers down the sides of her hips. The entire expanse glittered in silver and gold and occasional highlights of ruby red. It was clear that it was more than just an expensive tattoo. The wings had texture to them. Each feather was ever so slightly raised and even gave off a faint amount of light, like a dying candle.
Then, as quickly as it had been exposed, it was gone as she pulled a red silk blouse over her head.
She dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of ivory jodhpurs that fit like a second skin, designed for full expression and movement while riding, and a matching sleeveless doublet, the kind nobles wear to practice court fencing, high-necked, well fitted and quilted across the chest and shoulders.
A braided black cord gathered her hair back into a neat bun to keep it out of her face. A pair of black gloves and boots completed her rather fancy ensemble. Turning around unashamed, she smiled and tugged down on her vest.
"Shall we?"
Sholano grins at seeing a decent set of clothes. He'd felt like half himself without a reasonable wardrobe. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it might be better to stick with the prisoner's rags while they were still within Branderscar, but seeing his companions all tug on their clothes, he shrugs and goes to it.
Pausing for just a moment pulling on his boots, he can't help but admire Rose's exposed markings. He hadn't ever managed to catch a full glimpse before, but he'd heard the rumors. He blinks, and gets back to the business at hand.
Feeling much more like himself, he stands and bounces on his toes once or twice, settling everything. His outfit is faintly Varisian in style, with a loose, flowing shirt unlaced at the neck, with a wide array of colors in the vest, sash and belt over the top. A fairly tight-fitting pair of pale grey trousers and calf-high traveler's boots, turned down at the top, make for a stylish, if perhaps a bit foreign-looking, outfit. Sholano adjusts the sash a bit, looking bemused.
Not one of mine, but damned close. Who in the hell is this 'friend' of ours, that he knows my personal taste?
His head whips around as Kyras' Message whispers in his ear. He ponders the wizard, under the guise of considering Kyras' question, as he gets used to the idea of casual magic being slung at him.
After a moment, he replies, "Hard to say. If they can't get a look at you, maybe - although it's going to depend on how well they know her," He gestures towards the unconscious guard.
At Rose's query, he turns to her and spreads his hands wide, giving her his best courtly bow and flourishing towards the door. "After you, milady."
Travis stays near the back of the party as they head toward the door, being in no condition to engage in further combat.
As for clothing from the sack for him, his black garments, edged in gold (not metallic, just gold colored), are loose fitting and comfortable looking, though not impressive in any way. He ties his hair back in a quick braid, securing it with a ribbon. He secures a pair of soft soled sandals to his feet, his footsteps as silent as they were barefoot.
Outside the cell, the rest of the cellblock awaits. Besides your cell, there are four other cells similar to it in various sizes, and one large, reinforced cell. Inside that cell, a large ogre glares out at the prisoners.
As soon as anyone tries to leave the cell, the ogre turns to the group. "Are the lil' uns trying to escape? Would you take Grumblejack with you?"
Opens his mouth to talk to the ogre, then recalls his usual effect on other people, and decides to keep his mouth shut and let Sho or Rose do the talking,
Rose picks up the guard's truncheon and twirls it in her hand as she makes her way out of the cell, pausing when she hears the gravely voice from the other cell.
Moving closer and glancing inside, she grinned.
"Are you an ogre? I always wanted an ogre! Will you be good and promise to behave if we let you out? Sholano, would you mind letting Mr. Grumblejack out of his cage?"
"Always wanted an ogre? That's an odd ambition... but whatever floats your boat. He might make a handy companion for sure. By the way, does anyone want this bow and the arrows? If not, I'm leaving them here." Travis speaks softly but audibly enough for the others to hear, knowing there is at least one more guard on duty.
If no one takes him up on his offer, he does indeed leave the bow and ammunition on the cell floor with the dying guard. He quickly checks the four other cells to see if anyone else is being held prisoner here.
Quomaugh shrugs, saying, "Betta t' 'ave 'im on our side 'an rottin' in a jail cell." He then moves to accept the bow and arrows from the woman's incapacitated form. "No use leavin' 'ese 'ere. She sure ain' usin' 'em!" The Orc-rased Dwarf smirks as he hangs the bow over his body, then fastens the quiver to his belt.
Ulrich stares at the ogre, his cold eyes taking in his biological information like he could see his very DNA. He rolls the bomb tucked in his sleeve back and forth, the rest of his body stiff as a corpse. Every shift and motion is calculated and with purpose. He approaches Grumblejack's cell and says, "It's quite peculiar that an ogre is kept prisoner and not just slaughtered on the spot. Why are you here?"
The Ogre shrugs his shoulders. "The constable is waiting to execute Grumblejack in a week. Public event, with everyone watching. Of course, Grumblejack will do anything to get out of this- will kill any of the guards you need, just need to be free."
Picture
Travis moves over to the door and tries the guard's key in that, since it didn't work on the manacles.
Sholano, a bit nervous about the prospect, waits for Travis to try the key before stepping in behind him with the lockpicks. While he has a few seconds, he watches the ogre, trying to get a sense if the creature will simply attack them the moment he's set free.
"A little help with the guards would be appriciated," replied the wizard, though his actions spoke to his doubt. Kyras backed away from the Ogre as they made to open his cage. Surprised at the audacity of his cellmates to free such a beast before knowing of its willingness to help, he couldn't help but feel them a bit rash.
If this emancipation did work though, the end of the guards trying to stop the ogre would be rather ironic - wardens slain by their own prisoners. Then again, while blood on his hands was rather unbecoming, Kyras had no qualms about getting dirty himself. It wouldn't be the first time, after all.
The Ogre seems genuine in his intentions, like he's really willing to help the group. The guard's key doesn't work on the manacles, but the lockpicking does.
"Yes, yes, open the cage, set Grumblejack free!" The ogre seems quite excited about the prospect of freedom.
"Two rules 'Jack. First, you stay quiet. No yelling, even when smashing. Second, You follow our lead. We don't want attention until we are ready for it. Got that?"
She has a way about her with others, and a facility with command... she would make a good leader for our little band, at least until we are free of this place. Who knows if we will stay together beyond that point?
There's only one apparent way out - a stout wooden door. He stays back, letting others again take the lead to the door, though while Rose speaks to Grumblejack, he does take a moment to listen at the door to see what might await them on the other side. More guards perhaps? Are they standing ready for an escape or just waiting calmly for their companion to return?
"Ah yes now, there is one more thing." Grumblejack shows Rose various cuts and bruises. "If Grumblejack gets into fight with these wounds, it would be very bad, yes? Can one of your group do healing?"
Meanwhile, Travis can hear the guard on the other side of the door. He seems to be humming slightly, tapping his foot. After a moment, you can hear the clink of a bottle or a glass on the table. Clearly this man is not worried about what happened to his companion.
Travis backs off from the door and listens carefully to the answer to Jack's question, as he needs healing as well and no one stepped forward to help after they were freed. Not that he'd expect them to exactly, but knowing if someone could heal would be handy information.
He does whisper to the others, "I only hear one guard beyond the door and he seems to be drinking and unconcerned about the other guard."
That was a very welcome observation from Travis. In his voice earlier whispered to Sholano, Kyras messages to Travis: "My buddy there's always deep in his cups. If I called him over, he might just have a bit of a ... stumble. If you get my drift." he finished in his own voice. They were tarrying too long for Kyras's liking.
He turned to the ogre. "I wish I could get you in shape to crack a few heads, but medicine was never my forte."
Rose looks around at the others, seeing if anyone responded to the Ogre's request for aid.
Travis shrugs... "If I could heal, I'd have healed myself, too. Sorry, can't oblige."
"Hmm." Rose said, looking at the veil.
I wonder...
Finding the patch that looked like a bottle, she gave it a tug.
A potion bottle comes out of the veil. It only contains enough of whatever potion it is to one person. The potion smells faintly of milk.
"Does anyone know how to identify potions?"
"Maybe tasting it would work?"
Ulrich shakes his head at the ogre and says, "Unfortunately, I have not solved a crucial issue regarding any potential healing elixirs. Even more so, my notes are in the hands of Branderscar's guard." His attention directs elsewhere, the faint scent of milk wafting in his senses. He stares at the bottle Rose is holding and tilts the end of it towards his nose and sniffs briefly.
Sholano eyes the potion warily, and surreptitiously takes a few steps back. Whether it works or not, he's pretty sure he doesn't want to be near the ogre he drinks it.
Content with his own plan but unwilling to provoke discord at the moment, Kyras lets the rest of the group figure out their priorities aloud. The anatomist has a knack for potions. A useful development indeed.
More information would out itself in time. All he had to do was listen, it seemed.
Quomaugh shrugs, saying, "I would i' I could, lad, bu' me chieftan's teachin's ain' wit' me no more. Me connection t' th' lan' an' th' spirits ain' as strong as me brotha's, an' 'e ain' 'ere t' help." He shrugs again, deeper this time, but he can't help but give the ogre a smirk.
The potion is clearly a potion of Cure Light Wounds.
Ulrich shifts his dead, leery gaze upon Sholano, musing, "You have interesting and helpful colleagues." He doesn't wait for a reply, his attention already elsewhere. To the ogre, he says in a deep, monotone voice, "Kill them all." and readies a bomb, the explosive sliding into his palm. He turns towards the exit door and says, "So it's settled. We best be off now."
"So... you planning on telling us what the potion does?" Rose said slightly amused at the apparently absent minded doctor.
Seeing the device slip into Ulrich's hand, Kyras keeps his distance. That madman's unstable enough as it is, and now he's going to start lobbing explosives? In his years, the rare occasion had brought him across such dabblers, their arcane craft known to him, but not his taste. So destructive, so hard to control. It may be an asset here, but it would draw a bit of attention - not something they needed at the moment.
If things went South though, it may be their salvation. Each of them, it seemed, had their own way of defending themselves. They might just make it out of this hellhole.
"Oh that? A simple regenitive elixir...and just one of the many replacements for Mitra. It's intriguing that no one vouches for our comrade's suffering though." He grins at Travis and ponders, "And I thought we had become such great friends." This gets a disturbing chuckle out of the good doctor, quite happy to remind everyone that there was a reason why they were in Branderscar.
"In any case, I sense some concern for...subtly." He glances at Kyras, then back at the door. "The thought of Rose seducing the drunkard was mildly amusing; it'd be delightful to watch him die drunk on vice. Mitra would be so proud...but I'm torn between that and the orc twisting off his head. Any other suggestions?"
"How about both?" Rose says with a smirk.
"I'll go in and get his attention. Quomaugh can follow me in once I have his back to the door."
Travis shrugs and gives the doctor a chagrined smile in return. "I don't care how he dies.. just that he does and quickly... before he can raise an alarm of any kind."
"Let's do this... he growls.
Quomaugh nods, grinning widely. He draws his stolen blade, ready to follow Rose.