
Your Benevolent Dictator |

All around is a wall of sickly yellow fog, tumbling through the alley’s canyon of crumbling, gray brick walls like some jaundiced flash flood. Ahead, the unfamiliar alley splits, curving to the left and right. Behind, from the silent swell of mist, emanates the sound of footsteps — slow, but somehow keeping pace with the careening, hungry wave.
We're operating in combat rounds, but since you don't necessarily know your Initiative modifier at the moment, you can act now. You're 5ft from the fork in the alley - which is 10ft wide. If you don't act within 24hrs, I'll act for you.

Mya Wictoric |

Mya comes to her senses due to the pounding of her own heartbeat. She does not find time to take in the unfamiliar scenery for the footsteps are approaching and there is this gnawing sense of danger.
She looks around finally noticing the presence of strangers beside her. No time for pondering that either, the footsteps grow closer and the heartbeats louder.
You know what they say, when in a maze always go left she thinks to herself before plunging into the left pathway of the fork.

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

It smelled of dust and damp. A leathery taste in his mouth. The sound of It smelled of dust and damp. A leathery taste in his mouth. The sound of steps. A loud hawk and soon there is phlegm hitting the ground. The vision was clearing, yet it was too hazy. No. He was seeing just fine as the haze was in truth a sickly yellow mist, encroaching and consuming.
Still on the ground, Baldrek moves back some as he reaches for his belt. No dagger. The boot then. No dagger as well. "Zis noo goode..."
On his feet now, the left knee creaking like an old door, thanks to that time when... when what? There was mist around him and yet more mist inside his head. No matter, only one thing was important now. Run.
There were others around, a small one already running, turning left on the strange alley. "Rruun yoo fuucks!" Baldrek followed. Companionship was important now, he felt it in his bones. More important, thought, was that the small one had small legs. Whatever was inside the mist would probably get to her first...
Baldrek is a large man in all senses: tall and strong as a bull. His hair reaches his shoulders and is black turning into grey with pronounced receding lines. His beard and moustache are full but trimmed some and show much more grey than his hair. His nose is large and hawk-like, even if broken and bent in at least twice places. His eyes are black, even if now are wide with fear, and his eyebrows are bushy. His skin is brownish and tanned, appearing as coarse as leather, his arms showing quite a few scars.
His clothes are simple. His trousers are baggy but tight at his ankles, which are protected by hard boots and leather greaves. He wears a tunic with short sleeves and on top of it a strikingly purple blanket scarf, as well as old arm guards.
His voice carries a distinctive Kelish accent, for those who know the language.

Your Benevolent Dictator |

Baldrek/Mya: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 4) = 8
gyrfalcon/rdknight: 2d100 ⇒ (20, 98) = 118
As before, I'll wait 24hrs before updating - and will act for anyone who hasn't gone yet.

Arberie Morina |

As Arberie's head starts to clear she realizes she doesn't recognize anything about the place around her. Then, it occurs to her she doesn't know how she got there, or who she's with. The fear that comes with those realizations causes her reflexes to kick in. She flattens herself against the nearest wall, and her senses sharpen up.
Arberie starts scanning her surroundings, taking note of where any light is coming from, and where she can move without being directly exposed to or backlit by it. That part takes only a very few seconds, after which she turns her attention to the fog. She thinks it looks unhealthy, polluted or maybe poisonous.
The footsteps she hears bother her more than they should. Perhaps it's the absence of other sounds that causes it. She seems to be in a city, but cities are never this quiet or empty. She feels her skin prickle and crawl with the compounding eeriness and decides any of the things she needs to figure out about what is going on should be thought about in almost any other place at all.
The gnome is the first to run, then the large man does the same noisily, with a cry. He settles the question of where to go for Arberie. She could probably outrun the others, slowing down what is approaching by attracting its attention. But, being fairly sure now about where its will be drawn, she chooses the path less followed so far, slipping away down the route to the right. Arberie goes quickly, but makes sure to stick to the shadows.

Mya Wictoric |

Mya watches helpless as the huge man quickly catches up and she tries to pick up her pace. She is clumsy at best and, as she runs, her hair whips her face. Her silver-gray hair.
...What? is all she manages to conjure in her mind. Since when did she have gray hair? Mya glances at her hands, noticing the pale gray-ish tone of them and were they ever so... bony?
"I'm bleaching..." she says out loud to no one in particular, the realization settling in. A deep memory, or more like, a deep impression of a past feeling comes rushing in, the imprecise notion of being afraid of death. Of Bleaching.
But, strangely enough, it does not come to pass. Whether shock or side effects of the Bleaching phenomenon itself, she just feels nothing regarding her situation.
She finally turns to the man "Hey, you. I don't know what is happening, but we should stick together. If all else fails, you can carry me while I make you go faster." Mya tries to sound assertive or anxious but fails, her voice is serene and monotone.
Mya Wictoric is around 3ft. 4in tall with silver-gray hair that reaches the middle of her back that looks like it was tied in a braid, but is not anymore. Her skin tone is of darker gray and she looks middle age for a gnome, showing signs of age such as permanent frown lines on the forehead. Her eyes are also gray with a slight tint of orange. An artifact of colors gone by.
She is dressed in a plain dark green shirt under leather armor, brown pants and boots, carrying a bag that is half her size and noisily bumps as she runs. If not for the armor, she basically looks like dressed to work in a library.

Mya Wictoric |

Forgot to mention, but Mya is heading to the descending path.

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

It was just common sense to take the downslope and with his bigger legs it was trivial to leave the gnome behind. This was no time for friendship or even thinking too much. It was time to follow his guts and they were twisting like matted snakes. Running was the only sensible choice.

Tassa Bokrugscu |

She decides to stick with woman, realizing the gnome and human man seem to have run another direction. Maybe she can tell me what the f&^k is going on here!
Tassa takes the uphill curve and motions for the stranger to come along, hissing, "Strength in numbers."...and restraining herself from blurting out that she has no idea where they are, or why.
In the fog, it's hard to make out much, but Tassa appears to be a muscular human woman of average height, with thick black hair pulled back, olive skin, and a flash of sea-green eyes.

Arberie Morina |

Arborie isn't concerned with the stranger woman's attempt at conversation. She says nothing and keeps moving, going as fast as she can while keeoing herself as invisible as she can, staying close to buildings and shadows.
Just have to stay as far ahead of whatever until I can find a way to disappear or be forgotten while it's occupied elsewhere.

Your Benevolent Dictator |

It's 10ft behind Mya. Baldrek is 15ft ahead of Mya.
It's 10ft behind Arberie. Tassa is 5ft ahead of Arberie.

Mya Wictoric |

Mya sighs due to the lack of cooperation from the strange man, with a hard to understand accent to boot. Mya feels as if she is outside her own body, observing the situation and rationally judging it as a pretty good reason to feel anger, but not even a speck of it inflames her heart. It's just a sea of apathy and... something else? Like a stone weighing down your chest.
The sight of the approaching dead-end makes her turn, however, and face the strange figure hunting them. Finally, an emotion: fear. It's not a lot but she feels her hands trembling and the heartbeat quicken even more.
She taps her pockets in search of something, maybe a miracle even, but finds nothing.
Once again she is out of time for good ideas, so just a stupid one remains: she concentrates on her abilities, almost instinctively, as she slowly has been realizing she has very few memories, and verbally tries to conjure her magic, trying to slow down the creature.
With no regard if it worked or not, after all, how would she know, she dashes towards the creature, trying to run past it.
"Good luck, I hope we both live." she says to the tall man before changing directions.
Left it a bit ambiguous since I don't know if we are supposed to have our abilities or not.

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

The gaunt f!#@er was creepy as hell and uglier than a fight with scythes. Baldrek's knees were shaking, his bladder was begging him to let him piss himself and his a+%&@*~ had also put a request on the queue.
The gnome goes with hope for luck, but Baldrek knew better. "Hu... wee maake ourre own luucke..." Moving on the opposite side of the monster, he takes off his long blanket scarf from around his neck. It was obviously new and pretty, but he did not care a shit about it making him look like a nice corpse. A couple twists and it looked like a crappy whip. He did not think it would work, but the good thing about being a pessimist is that Baldrek was never disappointed.
Once the gnome was in position, Baldrek whips his scarf towards the f%#@er's legs and gives it a pull!
Trip, improvised weapon, flanking: 1d20 + 7 - 4 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 7 - 4 + 4 = 20

Tassa Bokrugscu |

Turning to stand beside the woman running behind her, Tassa hisses, "What's going on here? Who is that?"
She steps back stands her ground, ready to wrestle her pursuer if need be.
5' step back to beside Arberie.

Arberie Morina |

Arberie can't figure out why the other woman wants to take time out for chatting. But, she answers this time since it's quick and simple to do.
"F!%% if I know!"
By the time she's finished saying it, she's at the wall blocking the alley searching for handholds and trying to scramble up it.
Athletics: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Your Benevolent Dictator |

Attack: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (7) + 15 = 22 Damage: 1d8 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
You feel a sudden pain, and your vision fades to black.
I don't believe that drops you to negative CON, so feel free to make a reaction post and a stabilize check.

Mya Wictoric |

Mya falls, the thoughts swirlings in her head.
1d20 - 5 ⇒ (13) - 5 = 8
She keeps bleeding out on the floor.
lost one more HP, currently at -6!

Arberie Morina |

While the blood and possible letter, not to mention the voice, aren't good news, Arberie is now committed to a course that's difficult to alter. Besides, she's had visible confirmation of what's down below. She keeps climbing.
Athletics: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Tassa Bokrugscu |

So she's just as confused as I am? F^#k! F^#k! F^#k!
When Tassa hears the voice and sees the blood, her heart races with fear...but she is shocked to feel a second reaction inside her chest as well: A hunger that the blood awakens.
Without really thinking about it, she pounces, attempting to turn the tables and grab her pursuer.
Snag (touch): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19 If successful, battered (-2 CMD)
Grapple: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8 If that succeeds, she'll drain blood (-2 CON)...though that doesn't look like a roll with any chance of success. :-/

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

The mist was thick and smothering, twisting around his feet as if trying to entangle them. Baldrek could not see much ahead. Barely nothing actually, going by mostly due to the recent memory. Slowing down was death and anything was preferable to that.

Your Benevolent Dictator |

You're at full HP and have expended no resources. However, you currently have no gear. I'll put up a map once everyone else is present. :-)
Attack: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (19) + 14 = 33 Damage: 1d8 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17
You feel a sudden pain, and your vision fades to black.
I don't believe that drops you to negative CON, so feel free to make a reaction post and a stabilize check.

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

So Baldrek kept running.

Mya Wictoric |

Mya takes in the situation she is in, noticing her lack of gear and the grim reality of the "operation" going right in front of her.
Who talked to me? Where am I? Was that a dream? - the hit she took from the flesh appendages creature certainly did not feel like a dream. She looks around and tries to shake the woman next to her back to consciousness, just in the off chance it might save her from what Mya just went through.

Tassa Bokrugscu |

With a hateful, hungry gurgle she collapses onto the bloody cobblestones and drops into unconsciousness.
Stabilize (DC 18): 1d20 ⇒ 19

Arberie Morina |

Arberie doesn't think much about the possible blood letters, which could just be her imagining things that aren't really there. She has bigger things on her mind. First, there's a lot of blood flying a long way and that's troubling whether or not she's seeing or hearing things.
Second, and really most immediate, she's beginning to wonder what is up with the wall she's scaling. In her experience at least, high featureless stone walls aren't a very common thing in towns or cities. Arberie thinks she should have come to a window opening or ledge by now, or even a wooden second story to what she's hanging on to. Even an outer defensive curtain wall should have a walkway or stairs or something on its inside. It's really not cool at all that she's not finding any of those things.
She keeps working her way up though because she has no idea what else to do.
Climb: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

Your Benevolent Dictator |

Screams of pain and fear come from outside of your cell, where a human male is tied to a splintery worktable with heavy ropes. His lips are split, and his skin is covered in a mapwork of fresh red lines. As you watch, a thin figure wearing a blood-smeared doctor's coat circles the table casually before stabbing the man's palm with the blade of a broken pair of pruning shears.
You're at full HP and have expended no resources. However, you currently have no gear.
"Damn it!" Opening your eyes, you find yourself in the grimy cell of a dungeon. A vaguely-disturbing Varisian woman lies next to you, seemingly recently awoken.
Screams of pain and fear come from outside of your cell, where a human male is tied to a splintery worktable with heavy ropes. His lips are split, and his skin is covered in a mapwork of fresh red lines. As you watch, a thin figure wearing a blood-smeared doctor's coat circles the table casually before stabbing the man's palm with the blade of a broken pair of pruning shears.
You're at full HP and have expended no resources. However, you currently have no gear.
Outside of your cell, the 'nurse' stabs the man's palm as he screams in pain and fear.
Screams of pain and fear come from outside of your cell, where a human male is tied to a splintery worktable with heavy ropes. His lips are split, and his skin is covered in a mapwork of fresh red lines. As you watch, a thin figure wearing a blood-smeared doctor's coat circles the table casually before stabbing the man's palm with the blade of a broken pair of pruning shears.
You're at full HP and have expended no resources. However, you currently have no gear.

Mya Wictoric |

Mya exhales in relief as the woman wakes up from her shaking. The gnome briefly remembers her from the nightmare, before they split off. Well. If it really were a nightmare.
She whispers under the sound of the screams: "Oh, thank Shyka you are alive." the name of the Eldest of Time, Entropy and Reincarnation felt like they slipped from her mouth, another artifact from bygone memories?
"I know this is entirely too sudden. she continues on her calm voice "But my name is Mya. We should probably escape from here."
The impassive demeanour is betrayed when she bites her lower lip nervously, fighting the gnawing feeling she is somehow responsible for this. She looks around the cell and finally faces the 'nurse' and patient situation and also the cells, looking for a way out.
Still in time for the edit! Edit: Removed spoilers.

Tassa Bokrugscu |

"Gaaaaah!" Tassa sits bolt upright, in a cold sweat.
It was just a dream. It was just a dream. Only...where am I now? What's going on?
She looks over at the Kelishite man. "Wait...you were in my dream too, but you ran the other way. Who are you? What in the Hells is going on here?"

Arberie Morina |

Arberie's eyes flicker open to be greeted by a gnome looming over her while there's screaming aplenty in the background.
This is probably better... maybe. Gnomes aren't scary.
On the other hand, if there are a few scary gnomes, this might be one of them. She doesn't look normal to Arberie, awfully pale, kinda grim.
Arberie stays right where she is except to turn her head just enough to allow her eyes to scan about and take in the room and the situation, meaning the screaming mostly.
"Not much better than before really. If that was a dream, hopefully it was a dream within a dream, so this is a dream...
She shifts her eyes back to the gnome and gives a slight nod in the affirmative to Mya's suggestion they escape.
"Do you have a plan?" Athough the man's screaming would probably cover the sound, Arberie keeps her voice low.
I seem awfully calm. I wonder if I'm in shock? No headache, so I didn't get tossed into this cell blackout drunk. So, why can't I remember why I'm in here? Also, I've never seen a normal jail where people get sliced up right outside the cells. This is off enough to maybe be another dream.

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

The smell of damp, mold and dust, of sweat, dirt and piss. Smell of blood. There was someone screaming and some girl talking. Feeling something wet between his nose and mouth, Baldrek licks his lips. Blood. That was pretty stupid of him because it was probably either blood or snot and neither were nice.
"A drreaam withe mee? Sorrry girrl, no disrresbeecte intentede buut I'm in noo mooode forr kinky talke." He blows each nostril in his hand and wipes it on the wall. "I had a nightemarre withe a skinny frreeak chasing mee in a misty city." A series of coughs, his throat dry.
His head was pounding, hair wet with cold sweat. The man screaming again makes him reach for the dagger in his belt. There was none. Again. He doesn't even bother checking his boot. He gets to his feet, a bit dizzy, his full size making the cell much smaller. "Zee naame Baaldrreke aand zerre is only oone waay of knowing..."
Grabbing the metal bars, Baldrek shakes it intending to make noise and check if he could open it. BANG! BANG! "HEY! Could yoo frreeaking stobe cutting zee man? Wherre wee arre aand whaat habbening?"
Added a reference image for Baldrek. He should be more battered than that, but it is close to what I had in mind.

Mya Wictoric |

"Not really, no." Mya bluntly answers the woman. "I was hoping we could join forces and open this cell, by force or guile. And if the...surgeon....over there wanted to pick a fight, we could take 'em. I'm not very good at fighting by myself but I can make you stronger."

Arberie Morina |

Arberie silently agrees that Mya's plan isn't good. It isn't even bad so much as it's an imaginary future where things magically work out instead of them dying.
But, laying on the ground isn't going to get me anywhere either.
Arberie sits up and quietly crawls over to take a look at the cell's latching mechanism. She also prepares the gnome for the almost certain immediate dashing of their plans.
"Just so you know, while I know my way around locks fairly well, it doesn't matter if I don't have any tools to work with, and I don't have any tools. If it's locked rather than just pushed closed, we're not going anywhere. If you have, or can find anything long and thin and stiff, like a piece of metal, or hell, even a sliver of bone, give it to me. It might help."
Knowing that the loud man in the other cell is probably the one to get it first if nurse or doctor or jailer or whatever decides to kill more people helps keep Arberie calm. After checking out the latch, Arberie looks around more generally at what's outside the cell.
I don't think I can make a disable device attempt to unlock the cell without tools, but I'm happy to be corrected if I'm wrong.
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14

Your Benevolent Dictator |

At Baldrek's outburst, the nurse turns her head and demands, "Pipe down. You'll have your turn soon enough." She then ignores you, removing the rusty blade from her patient's palm and looking him over analytically.
Arberie: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Baldrek: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
Mya: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Tassa: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
@Arberie/Mya: You notice a ring of keys dangling from a hook at the nurse's waist.

Mya Wictoric |

"Did you see that? Mya makes a discrete motion towards the ring of keys. "You have longer arms, think you can take it if I try to lure her here?"

Arberie Morina |

I'm assuming we take the map literally, which puts the keys at least 25' feet away from Arberie.
Arberie looks at Mya with a sour face while she sticks her arm through the bars, it extends maybe 3 feet, and waves her hand. Pulling it back inside she hisses "lure her here? Are you crazy? She carves people up for fun."

Mya Wictoric |

Mya shrugs. "All right. She'll come here for us pretty soon anyway."

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

Baldrek scratches his beard and turns to the girl on his cell. A small wink, before turning back to the doctor.
"Zaat a faacte, uhn?" BANG! "Uhn?" BANG! "Not feeling I will shuute uube aat'aall!" BANG! BANG!
Baldrek hawks deeply, feeling blood coursing back from his nose into his throat. BANG! And then sends a gob of blood and spit flying towards the doctor's face.
Range Touch: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Damage: Moral!

Tassa Bokrugscu |

"I had a nightemarre withe a skinny frreeak chasing mee in a misty city." A series of coughs, his throat dry.
"Yes," Tassa hisses, "I saw you run left. I was just behind you and split off to the right. So something...more than just a dream?" She rubs her forehead in confusion.
When she sees the odd foreigner spit at the jailer, Tassa chuckles despite herself. She edges closer to the cell door, readying herself to grab the nurse if he comes close enough.
Ready action to grapple nurse

Your Benevolent Dictator |

Baldrek's spittle narrowly misses the nurse as she wheels around and screams, "QUIET!!!" As she does, her face transforms into that of the Keleshite.
While her back is turned, the other prisoner struggles in his blood-soaked bindings and manages to get a leg free. Desperately, he kicks the nurse in the small of her back, throwing her up against the cell holding Baldrek and Tassa.
She has CMD 20 if either of you wanted to attempt a grapple. If you're instead trying to grab the key, it's a DC 14 DEX or Sleight of Hand check.

Tassa Bokrugscu |

When the nurse comes near, Tassa reaches out through the bars, but she can't manage to grab hold of their tormentor.
Snag (vs touch): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16 Battered for 1 round, if hits touch AC
Grapple: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 ...but clearly a miss either way

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

"Ahh! A deemon, a faace-steealerr deemon!" He quickly backs down raising his hand as if to ward evil.
Dexterity: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
With the other hand, however, he hides the keys he had just taken. Keeping his distance, he waits for the nurse to back away, imagining she'd again get entranced in her macabre business with the poor man, specially now that he had kicked her.

Your Benevolent Dictator |

Pulling back from the bars of the cage, the nurse turns around and attacks the prisoner on the table in an insane frenzy. Her form gradually morphs into a naked humanoid devoid of any identifiable features as she neglects to maintain concentration on her human guise. Her hands are now long talons, which she begins using to literally rip the prisoner to shreds.
?: 1d4 ⇒ 3

Baldrek Zar'Zaron |

A quick step forward and Baldrek was already inserting the key in the lock, hands shaking. He was too young for them to shake like that, at least it was what he tells himself. Wrong key. F#+@. He almost drops the ring as he tries the next one. It clicks. Praise the Everlight, for at least once it was not the last one.
His mind was hazy but this wasn't his first time in a dungeon and creaking, stuck and rusted bars were a staple, so he doesn't waste time trying to open it smoothly and silently, no, he throws his shoulder against the door and soon finds himself outside. "Stiill'aliive."
There was a door leaving the place, but it was silly to go for it while the monster was about. Moving around the smaller table and across the monster, he throws the keys to the girls in the other cell.
Are there any weapons nearby? Not sure how many more I can reasonably make... seems like a move action to open the door and another to move outside of the cell.

Mya Wictoric |

Mya watches the scene unfolding knowing she should be apprehensive, but cannot really. She readies herself to leave the cell as soon as it is opened, still whispering "Thanks!" to not attract the monster.

Tassa Bokrugscu |

Tassa grins and seizes the moment to leap onto the nurse's back, trying to hold him while the Kelishite goes for the surgical tools.
She feels a strange but pleasurable hunger inside her own flesh, trying to break out.
Snag: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15 Swift: battered for as long as we're grappling
Grapple: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20 Assuming this succeeds, I'll drain blood (-2 CON) and go up to CL1