With the agreement of Taemon'dow to let him take the sack, he gave it a pull, to which he was greeted with a now solid object. He knelt to the floor, letting the bag sit there, and begins to search through it, to see if there is anything of use.
A large bag, much bigger than the veil itself, emerges from the silky surface. Inside this bag are fresh civilian clothes, one set for each of the prisoners in their size, a small pouch full of arcane components, and a small slate and a few carefully wrapped lengths of chalk.
"That will be useful when we get out. Of no doubt. However, not yet. Since it was your idea to pull it out, I suggest you carry it."
The older man pats the boy on the shoulder.
What a surprise! It was as if this person who had giving Taemon'dow the veil knew exactly about each of them. No, surely they knew, after all, why else would there be slate and chalk, which was most likely specifically for him?
Either way, it seemed that this bag was a good find, and he was wise to check it! The pat on the shoulder wasn't exactly welcomed at this moment though, since the man expected Gunter to carry the bag. Did he look like he was strong enough to move quickly AND carry clothing and aid for six people? The boy took the man's hand again.
I don't think I'm going to carry it. It's cumbersome, and I already don't move that fast. How about we get the ogre to carry the bag. I do not want him used as a distraction, as I had already healed him once, and do not want that in vain.
"Surely normally dressed folk will draw less attention than prisoners? With or without guards. It was always going to be tough to explain prisoners being moved away from the cells in the night. If we are dressed normally we can be off duty guards, or you can simply say we were visiting the boss. Something. I would like to wear something other than rags."
"But," Lysander says, his voice still a little hoarse from the sudden injury and healing, "wouldn't commonly dressed people walking out of the cell area without any guard accompaniment also draw attention?" The glistening man shrugs, and the blade disappears once more as he lets go of it and gestures to himself. "Of course, it might also serve well to get this blood off of me."
"You both have good points. Darsis and I will remain in guard's garb, the others will dress in these clothes. You will be visitors to the prison being escorted out, after having said your goodbyes to your loved ones. Grumblejack will have to remain a prisoner of course; there is no other way to explain him."
As soon as Taemon'dow suggested to leave Grumblejack behind, Gunter fummmed a bit, grabbing his arm tight, of course not hurting him, but trying to make sure that he couldn't go anyway.
Wait! If we leave Grumblejack behind, surely he will turn against us! We can't betray him like that! Wouldn't you do the same if someone left you behind after you made a promise?
Of course, technically he had already done his side of the bargain, letting him out of his cell and healing his wounds. It just felt very wrong to let the group leave him behind.
"Have Grumblejack follow on behind us. If it comes to a point where we cannot pass with him we can make the decision then and leave him to attempt escape on his own. If we do things the bloody way he will be an asset," Darsis says as he begins pulling on the young guards clothes again, showing no regard for the brief nakedness that exposes his hard scar covered body.
"I prefer the bloody way, if the outcome is the same, these guards are pathetic animals, they deserve to die."
"You misunderstand me; I meant only that he will have to remain in the guise of a prisoner while he accompanies us, as we cannot expect anyone to believe he is a guard or visitor. What Darsis has said is true, I think he'll be a great asset if it comes to battle. Are we ready to move?"
Darsis heads for the stairs once everyone is dressed, moving as stealthily as he is able to without appearing to be skulking. He carrys on until he reaches an intersection or sees someone.
Not waiting for permission Katrin takes one of the longswords and puts on the clothes that were in the bag for her. "Darsis, give Taemon the second scabbard and stick a dagger in it. I'll keep this blade hidden in the clothing bag and stay in the rear of the group. Should be enough to fool casual inspection. Trained in their use or not, no guard would have two scabbards." After finishing covering her mostly naked body she appears to be much more confident. "Lets go."
The boy gives a sigh of relief, and takes the clothing that is meant for him, stepping behind the large ogre to get dressed. He is rather shy about his own immature body, and dresses, quickly, before popping back around. Out of the dirty drab from before, he looks quite adorable, and not very manly at all. Out of chains and filth, he looks more of his age, a ripe age of fifteen.
He was still very unsure about the whole plan, but he would do his best not to let anyone die.
"Darsis, hold up, if you please. This should be he plan. I will go first, as the man in the lead will be expected to do the talking. You should follow in the back, escorting Grumblejack; be his guard. We should find him some manacles he can pretend to wear. A set with an ankle ball would be best as when the time comes it'll make a deadly weapon in his hands. If we meet one or two guards at a time I will lull them into position, and we will then take them, and add their uniforms to those we have now. More than two, and we will try to talk out way past only. In this way, we may have some time before the alarm is raised. When it is raised, we'll all arm ourselves as best we can and fight our way out. Those dressed as guards, use it to your advantage as long as possible. Remember, they will not necessarily know to expect it, even with the alarm sounding. Alarms are confusing things and can be drills or related to any number of things. Most of the guards will have been asleep, and will confused when they first wake. Any questions?"
Darsis shrugs and complies, not looking thrilled about moving to the rear, but understanding Taemon's reasoning. To Katrin he says,
"Stay close to Taemon and draw his sword if combat erupts. That way you have the weapon you want and his disguise does not suffer."
He then looks to Mavro,
"Your plan for Aspros?"
Narrowing her eyes at the bossy fop, Katrin grumbles under her breath unintelligibly. She grabs a set of manacles and stands behind him. "I'm stopping myself from attacking you because your plan makes sense. If any of you try to keep the next sword we find from my hands though, I'll knock you out and take it."
She arranges the manacles on her hands to look like they're closed and asks, "Well? What are we waiting for? More time we waste the better chance we'll be discovered. Lead the way pretty boy."
"As I'm the only one here with arcane abilities, I think I'll take those spell components, thank you very much."
Mavro takes some of the civilian's clothing and, standing there, unabashed in the middle of the room, strips off his disgusting rags and puts on the fresh ones. As he stands there naked, you can see the ritual scars and tattoos that dotted his arms, hands and face actually spread to cover his entire form.
"Aspros can fend for himself. He'll remain in the back of the group, behind the Ogre. Trust me when I say he'll be able to keep himself out of sight. I've seen the animal upon which he is based first hand, and that creature could skulk through the forest with nary a hiss or a disturbed branch," says Mavro, putting the final touches on his garments.
Mavro stands towards the back of the group in front of the Ogre, to be close to his blood god's aspect and not in the way of the group's frontline hitters.
Lysander nods at the suggestions. "Am I to play the part of visitor, then? Seems reasonable enough a ploy--although anything is likely to buy us but a few moments' time. Like Darsis, I'm perfectly willing to lay low every guard we pass." They are, after all, less worthy than you.
That said, Lysander takes his clothing and moves to a corner to dress. Though he doesn't have the pure number of scars some of the others possess, the three that you see are very wicked. One, which looks very fresh and really only scabbed over, runs through the center of his chest, just under his heart, a mostly straight diagonal gash. A longer gash runs almost vertically along his right pectoral, and a small, horizontal scar is just above his waist, with its complement in the small of his back as though he were run clean through.
Before putting on the shirt, the glistening man looks around. "Is there any water to wash this blood and grime from my neck and face?" he questions. "Ridding myself of them might lend to the disguise as a mere civilian."
"I simply used my rags, far from perfect but it should suffice. Let's hurry our time is finite."
Lysander frowns, but does his best with the rags, wiping what blood and grime he can from his visible areas. "Hopefully nobody looks too closely," he mutters as he drops the rags and pulls on the shirt.
"If they look that close stick a blade in their eye," Darsis says, with a thin smile.
Lysander smirks back at Darsis' comment. For all your bickering, I have a feeling you're going to get along fine with this man.
Down the stairs, all they can see is yet again another room. There is a single door to the north, and a single torch in a sconce on the south wall. Other than this, there's nothing interesting in this room.
Katrin will go to the door and place her ear against it, listening for activity on the other side.
Lysander also treads forward carefully, keeping somewhere near the middle of the group, straining his ears to pick up any sound beyond the door.
You hear two guards talking about something on the other side.
"Are you going to the game tonight?"
"Naw, I don't think so. Blackerly's got enough of my money as it is!"
"I hear you, I hear you."
Darsis waits by Grumblejack, waiting to see what the others plan to do tense and ready to act.
Katrin steps back from the door and holds up two fingers. Then mimes talking. Pointing at Taemon, she pretends to knock on the door, then gives him a questioning look.
Darsis shakes his head, points at Gunter and mimes opening the door then slitting a throat.
Taemin'dow nods and smiles. He holds up a finger and mouths the word "One." He then mimes knocking someone over the head. Then he mimes knocking again and mouths, "One more," followed by another knock on the head. He signals someone to hide behind the door.
When someone is in position he move to the door and tries the latch. If it is locked, he'll knock, otherwise he'll just step in and take a look whose there.
Darsis moves to the fore eyes gleaming, fingers caressing the hilt of his sword.
Katrin will wait against the wall on one side of the door, opposite Darsis. This ought to be fun. She's grinning.
There are two guards in this room, but they are not as close as previously thought. They're near the north west of the room, near the other two doors instead. They don't yet notice anyone.
Map
Katrin charges through the door silently, past the first guard and straight into his buddy. She levels a viscous chop at his throat.
The man's larynx crumples with a wet crunch under the force of her blow. Her eyes gleam with a demented fury in the torchlight.
Darsis sprint forward through the open doorway sword whipping from his scabbard and into his hands as he follows Katrin,
"Keep one alive if you can," he calls quietly to Katrin, pulling his blade free from the guard's stomach.
Now at the back of the group, Mavro crouches down and touches the head of his blood god's aspect. There's your feast right there, Aspros. Try not to get too carried away.
Hardly listening to his master, Aspros straightens out his tail and lunges forth across the stone floor to bite at the heels of the first guard.
But in his fury, Aspros's attack misses completely.
Having manifested his mind blade as soon as the guards were heard, Lysander glanced back and forth at the pantomiming. Who are these fools? Stop with the games, and just kill the guards! The soulknife grits his jaw against the impatient thoughts, biding until the time is right...
As Katrin and the others stream through the door, Lysander waits for them to pass, then steps into the doorway, ready to flip his blade at the nearest guard if he is still up.
Taemon'dow rolls his eyes and strolls into the room. "Why do we even bother with plans..." he mumbles to himself.
Gunter really doesn't do anything for the moment, wondering the same thing as Taemon'dow.
One guard falls to his feet and collapses, the closer one. The other one is badly injured, but still holds onto life.
Lysander:
Mavro:
Katrin:
Gunter:
Taemon'dow:
Darsis:
Guard:
Aspros:
"You only need him mostly alive, its much easier to convince something of its own mortality if you give it a taste of pain," Darsis says rushing forward and swinging his sword in a feint that sends it back into its sheath even as he snatches the guard's arm and hauls him into a grapple.
"How about someone whose silver tongue is not quite so tarnished try convincing him that he ought to cooperate? And keep quiet - unless he wants Katrin here to turn him into history's ugliest scabbard."
Katrin reaches over and backhands the guard hard across the face, seeking to disable him.
Katrin walks over to the deceased guard and takes his sword. Then she will strip him of his armor and begin to don it.
Lysander moves up to the guard as Darsis holds him in place. Not bothering to waste time drawing his mind blade, the elan stares down with cold, unfeeling eyes. "Tell us what you know," he hisses, "or believe me, we will make your death as long and painful as humanly possible."
The soulknife can practically feel Karlyle's hand on the back of his skull. What a terrible threat, you idiot.
Gunter sticks back at the back of the group, knowing that the other's are taking care of it. He feels just a bit useless, but hey, he wanted to stay clean.
"Please, don't hurt me, I'll tell you anything I know!"The guard yells loudly, "But I gots a wife and kids, they're gonna be so upset if their daddy's dead!"
"The fight'ssss won," Aspros loudly proclaims, slithering over the body of the dead guard and looking balefully at the still-alive guardsman. "Can I eat him now? I'm practically parched; it'ssss been sssso long you know.
Mavro moves forward and kneels down next to the entranced white snake. No, not yet, Aspros. This one may yet have some more use for us, but I understand how much you like... live prey.
He lifts his head up, inspecting the grappled guard. "Of course, he's only useful so long as he provides us with useful information. We need a layout of the complex, guard patrol routes, the immediate vicinity in terms of guards or traps. If he isn't as cooperative as we require... then I suppose we might need to reconsider... food for thought."
As Katrin begins arming herself, she says to the guard who just shouted "Quiet! Make another noise above a whisper and you're dead." Turning to her companions she continues, "Somebody put their ears to these other doors while I get armed. I'm sure his shout is gonna bring others."
Sure enough, the whole group can hear the loud and clear sound of a horn. It blows twice in rapid succession, pauses, then blows twice again. This repeats a few times.
The entrapped guard smiles slightly at the sound of the horn.