Not wanting to draw any attention Dargon acts totally resigned to his fate.
Kid shoots Morthos a defiant look. Then he stares down the guard. It seemed like the thief was their only means to escape, so better everyone else got the beating. Still, Kid preferred a fight and hoped this guard would give him one and not act like a pathetic slob who was only brave when he knew his charge could not fight back.
"You're good with a sap. Have your friend come in and watch. You know, just in case. I'm just a child. Go ahead, you can take me. It'll make you feel better. Give you a good story to tell the rest of the boys - how you beat the whelp but good."
Treesa glares at the guards, considering hexing the one beating on the Kid. No. It wouldn't stop the guard, just make him less efficient with the sap. And one of them might notice her.
Morthos speaks with a voice of reason. Little point for the guards to waste energy killing a man condemned to be executed in just a couple days.... "Good point Morthos. We'll be quiet. Kid, he's just going to beat you senseless if you continue."
Kid gives up the fight, for now. If everyone else sees there is wisdom in one specific course of action, he's a fool to go off in a different direction alone.
Morthos watches the guards leave before cutting his attention toward the rogue. "You might as well continue your endeavor, Dargon. We've little other options." Then turning his attention to the gnome, "Unless there is something else within the scarf that you have found to be more useful, Posh."
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Once the guard leaves, and after a good 3-4 minutes, giving them time to get back to where they once were Dargon goes at the locks on his manacles with renewed purpose.
After several minutes Dargons hands come free and he stoops going to work on his leg irons.
Dargon rubs his legs and quickly moves down to Morthos who he thinks is the best choice for a combatant in case the guards return. he whispers Morthos first I think. Then you kid.
He had the hang of this now he thinks. and leans down for his leg irons
((I forgot and I can add another +2 for familiarity now ;)))
Morthos freed, he whispers Sir maybe pull one of those daggers off the handkerchief...err I mean veil and moves down to The Kid passing by the ladies He mentions to Rendylyn Youre after the Kid. I think his fists could come in handy in case
It took several minutes on the Kids locks, but soon he was freed. He moved to Rendylyn and went to work on her Manacles
Finally her leg irons sprung open and he bowed low and moved to the gnome
Done he leans against the wall and lets out a sigh...Next
((DM-if anywhere in there he guards come, after theyve left or are dead, or we're dead, can we just go back to the lock rolls after that point. Im loathe to have to roll those all again.))
Once he's freed from the irons, "Well done, Dargon. And the blade from the veil will have to suffice for now." Morthos straightens himself proper, rubs his wrists for just a moment to alleviate some of the soreness, and pushes his long, black hair behind him.
Then moving over to the gnome, "I will need one of the blades, Posh. At least until I can acquire a better one." Calmly taking the veil, he removes one of the daggers before returning the scarf to Posh.
He then waits for Dargon to finish with the others. When the rogue finally makes it to Posh, Morthos notices he seems to be having difficulty. He looks back to the cell door time and again as Dargon's lack of success eats at the clock. It is possible we may have to leave Posh behind. If it wasn't due to the fact that it will take all of us to escape this place...
While Dargon works, Rendylyn plots and whispers. "If the guards come after some of us are unchained, but before we are all free, we should try to feign helplessness--keep your hands and legs in your manacles, as if they are still locked, and hide any equipment you've taken from the veil. We'll play the freeze game as long as we can. But if they notice, we'll have to pounce as best we can. Dargon and Morthos should have the daggers, since the Kid seems ready with his fists. I'll spellbind the one with the horn by the door. There's a chance he could fight free of my powers, though."
”I can hex while still chained. I’ll focus on lowering any resistance he has to magic. I’m sure the men won’t need any help from my hexes to kill the guards.”
There is wisdom if the words of the women. Kid aches to crack his knuckles and bash skulls, but better to lure the guards in close before braining them.
Nodding, "If they do come, and we are compromised, then I shall concentrate on the one with the horn."
As Dargon works on the shackles, Posh exhales softly—not quite a sigh, but something adjacent.
"You know," he says lightly, as if commenting on the weather, "I do recognize that the swiftest route to freedom may not pass through my manacles first."
He glances toward the others, voice calm, unbothered.
"Strength, sorcery, stealth—each has its part in the escape to come. I offer none of those in the immediate moment. So yes... quite reasonable to defer the cartographer until the road is clear."
He nods graciously to Dargon, his tone measured.
"Do proceed. I shall await my turn with the dignity this place so richly lacks."
Even the finest compass is only useful once you know which way is forward.
"Your mind isn't chained up, Posh. What can it offer in the immediate moment?"
"Everyone: When face the guards, take them both alive if possible. They can tell us useful things about the prison. If we have both we can question them separately, and catch them if they try to lie."
Dargon pulls the other dagger off the veil and examines it and considers their situation and best course of action
with nothing coming to mind he moves to the door and listens
Morthos moves up near Dargon, narrowing his eyes. "Anything, Dargon?" he asks, taking a moment to listen himself.
Shaking his head, I hear nothing. That could very well be to our benefit, though.
Rendylyn grins fiercely as she rubs the circulation back into her wrists. "You've finished just in time, Dargon. I've been keeping track of time between meals, and it's almost time for our next portion of swill. If the guards stick to their routine, we'll have our chance at them when they bring it in."
"I have a plan, but you'll have to tell me if it's dark enough in here for it to work. We have Dargon unlock our cell and hide in the shadows next to the door out of the cellblock. When the two guards enter, the one with the horn should stay by that door, while the other brings us our food. We'll all stand as if still chained, with Morthos where Dargon was and rags hanging from the distant manacles where Morthos was. When our unsuspecting waiter gets close enough, Morthos and the Kid will attack him, while Dargon backstabs the one with the horn. Treesa and I will be ready to hex and spellbind that one if Dargon has any trouble, and Posh will look for opportunities to help."
"We should have enough time to inventory the remaining items on the veil. For now, leave the lantern, the rope, and especially the window on it."
Treesa rubs her wrists and ankles where they had chafed from the chains. "It feels good to be free. Now let's stay free. What else was on the veil? Anything else useful?"
"That plan sounds good, but that door is out of range for my hex. I'll have to move forward quick when the time comes. What do we use for a signal?"
Rendylyn grins fiercely as she rubs the circulation back into her wrists. "You've finished just in time, Dargon. I've been keeping track of time between meals, and it's almost time for our next portion of swill. If the guards stick to their routine, we'll have our chance at them when they bring it in."
"I have a plan, but you'll have to tell me if it's dark enough in here for it to work. We have Dargon unlock our cell and hide in the shadows next to the door out of the cellblock. When the two guards enter, the one with the horn should stay by that door, while the other brings us our food. We'll all stand as if still chained, with Morthos where Dargon was and rags hanging from the distant manacles where Morthos was. When our unsuspecting waiter gets close enough, Morthos and the Kid will attack him, while Dargon backstabs the one with the horn. Treesa and I will be ready to hex and spellbind that one if Dargon has any trouble, and Posh will look for opportunities to help."
The second time Dargon tries to pick his manacles you hear "Are you sleeping?" from the other side of the door. On the third attempt the locks open.
Morthos' attention is drawn to the Changeling as she speaks before it cuts back to the cell door. "An excellent plan, Rendylyn, but it appears we've little time. Dargon, quickly, let us move. Remember, the one who possesses the horn is yours to end as you will. We will take care of the other one," he offers calmly, before moving himself to his designated spot, working to make his imprisonment believable.
Just before he returned to the wall, Morthos placed the black blade in the back of his britches.
"That plan sounds good, but that door is out of range for my hex. I'll have to move forward quickly when the time comes. What do we use for a signal?"
Looking over at Treesa, Morthos says in a matter-of-fact tone, "Simple, Treesa, I shall tell you."
As his thoughts return to the task at hand, Freedom will soon be ours. I am coming for you, pathetic King, and Hell is coming with me.
Kid nods approvingly to Dargon, who has come through when needed most. The thief's success will not be forgotten.
Kid half-listens to the child's plan. It seems incoherent at first, then absurd.
"Your plan relies on the guards mistaking rags for a prisoner, and then for our thief to, what? Knock one out with a knife to the back? Are we to kill the guards or not? I liked your first idea, where we all pretend to still be chained and then we jump the guards and interrogate them. If the one with the horn doesn't come in, what does it matter? Our thief can unlock the cell door and we can escape and ambush the pair of them at our leisure."
Kid's not sure any of that makes sense but he can't make Rendylyn's plan work in his tired head. He continues to listen for the incoming guard. And anyway, he's hungry. It would be best to be fed first and then kill the guards on a full stomach. Meanwhile, he continues to pretend to be locked up.
Rendylyn has stayed by her manacles, ready to pose as if chained if the guards enter. "We'll stay with the cell ambush if the guards notice we're free. But it's not a strong one--the guard with the horn will be too far away for us to be sure we'll get him. If it's not dark enough for Dargon to hide in wait, we'll need something else. Perhaps we just rush through the cell block door at them?"
Rendylyn's eyes go wide, and she stifles a mad laugh. "Or, instead....by Asmodeus, this could be perfect. What if we put the window in that wall?" "On the other side is the interrogation room where I met our benefactor. It's right next to the guardroom, with an unlocked door between the two. We could slip into that room unsuspected, then launch a surprise attack from a direction the guards won't anticipate!"
Posh adjusts the veil delicately, letting the silk drape across his lap like a treasured chart unrolled before an eager client.
"Very well. I shall be as helpful as a humble cartographer might be, given that our present expedition lacks both compass and coastline."
He glances toward the wall, nodding slightly.
"The rope, the lantern, and the window shall remain—anchors for a later crossing, should we need them. But the rest..."
He lifts a hand with theatrical restraint and begins plucking the remaining embroidered items one at a time.
"Let us see what tools our mysterious patron has stitched into our escape. I shall draw them forth and distribute them accordingly—if the items agree with my guesses, so much the better. If not, well..." He shrugs lightly.
"At least we shall know what lies before us, rather than dreaming about what might."
And every great escape begins with a careful inventory.
Dargon looks at Rendylyn and says Its a solid plan with 2 problems. I have to unlock that door to get out, It may go easy, but if these locks were any example Id say, its frought with peril. That and we have few rags to use to mimic a person and if they think something is up, they will never unlock the door. I say we all pretend to be chained up. When the guard enters and takes a few steps in, we all charge. Kid and I go for the horn blower, Morthos and Posh for the other. With you and Treesa providing magic support. They will have a pot of gruel and water to divvy out, and so will have a brief pause to get to the horn and weapons. Its only 15 feet to be out the door from our side. But look. if the guard entering comes toward Kid and I, then Morthos you go to the Horn blower. I daresay, a few seconds and you would be on him.
Treesa listens. Well, she listens to the plans, not so much to the Kid's complaints.... "Good point Dargon. The lock on the gate could be loud enough to alert them, and even though it's dark here they'll bring light. With light they will notice rags hanging where you should be."
"The guard bringing the food and water will be focused on opening the gate and then picking up the food and water. As soon as he steps in you go and duck past him. Morthos will be right behind you with the blade. It shouldn't take more than a couple of seconds. They'll be down and we're free of this cage."
She looks up at the chains, not wanting to stretch her arms up to them. "A few more seconds...."
Dargon pushed both the kit for his newfound tools and the sheath for the Dagger behind him partially into his waistband and put the leg irons around his ankles but not locking them shut, just to pass a casual glance. And opened the manacled getting them ready to put his wrists in, once again just enough to pass casual glance but not locked and prepared himself for this critical stage of their escape....success and they have a bit better gear, and keys and the advent of surprise, fail and they have to fight through the prison without surprise.
Of all the geniuses in this prison cell, only one makes any sense: Dargon. So far, only Dargon has performed under pressure. Kid decides the thief is the leader, whether the others like it or not. For any of them to offer changes to Dargon's plan is foolishness.
"As you say, Dargon. I'll go with you for the man outside the cell. Take care in your position and I'll offer you a chance to stick your knife in his back."
Posh squints through the gloom beyond the bars, his voice low but clear.
"Now that we are all—temporarily—unchained, might I ask: does anyone see anything of use beyond the cells? A ring of keys, a blade carelessly set aside, perhaps even a coil of rope or... dare I dream, a whip?"
He leans slightly, one hand resting on the bars as if testing their mood.
"Even the smallest detail might mark the beginning of a proper route forward."
Treasure, after all, often begins with a glint.
Dargon smiled at Poshes question. no Posh, I saw nothing. Nor would I e pect to. However, with each dead guard we will increase our gear. I know you have no weapon yet, but a distraction may aid Morthos in getting a lethal strike
Pondering the thief's idea, "Your plan has merit, Dargon. Let us see how it plays out."
"Now that we are all—temporarily—unchained, might I ask: does anyone see anything of use beyond the cells? A ring of keys, a blade carelessly set aside, perhaps even a coil of rope or... dare I dream, a whip?"
"Nor have I, Posh. And Dargon is right, soon you will have more options. Soon."
Standing against the wall, Dargon sees Posh pull the bags and bottles from the Veil and sighs. where and how are we going to hide that stuff my gnomish comrade?
With careful fingers, Posh begins pulling patches from the veil, each motion deliberate, as if he were unsealing a scroll from a long-forgotten archive. The first patch flutters to the ground and unfolds in a brief shimmer of magic—becoming a large sack of simple, roughspun clothing.
He considers it for a beat, expression unreadable, then lifts the sack and walks it calmly to the darkest corner of the cell.
"As long as we remain interesting," he remarks softly, "no one will bother looking where things are dull."
With that, he buries the sack behind what shadows he can find.
The second patch becomes a pouch that jingles softly in his hand. Gold. A small fortune in any cell.
He turns, weighing the bag briefly in his palm before offering it to Rendylyn with a shallow bow.
"Clergy are, after all, accustomed to collecting offerings. Please, see that it is put to proper use."
The third patch transforms into a medium pouch heavy with powdered minerals and strange roots. Posh opens it, rifling through until he finds what he needs—a soft pat of butter and a thin twist of copper wire.
"Ah. Foundational ingredients," he murmurs, palming them with evident satisfaction.
"The rest is yours as well," he adds, passing the pouch to Rendylyn. "Do collect what you need. Unused tools, after all, are useless tools."
Finally, he peels the remaining patches, one after another, each becoming a stoppered glass bottle, identical to the earlier potion.
He carries them quietly back to the corner and nestles them beneath the sack of clothing, adjusting the folds to hide them from easy view.
"Unless someone has a better hiding spot, these shall rest with the laundry for now. I find few things as off-putting as the scent of old linen."
Then, turning his gaze toward Dargon, he adds in a more contemplative tone:
"And with these components added to my own toolkit... well, let us simply say my usefulness in this little expedition has increased considerably."
Even a mapmaker must occasionally draw new symbols when the terrain changes.
”The sack can sit in the corner behind Morthos. There’s enough of a shadow to hide it. And by the time they come through the door and might see it they’ll be dead. Sometimes stealth is just being where they won’t be looking.”
She moves over to Rendylyn and looks in the components bag. ”A firefly perhaps? Once we’re past this I can cast light on something. You can as well I’m sure. But my version is arcane. Once we’re out of here and I can replace my rat…. Jerboa actually. I called him rat. I had other magics that needed components.”
”Should the Kid take a potion? The guard hit him pretty hard with the sap. He isn’t bleeding, but we don’t want him down at the next hit.”
"Here, have it," says Rendylyn, putting the spell component pouch in Treesa's hands. "I asked Asmodeus for spells that don't need components. But hide it, and everyone get into position. They'll be here soon."
Rendylyn weighs the coin pouch in her hand, then hides it by tying it to her shift, behind her. "Since Asmodeus has given this unto us, we'll have to offer a suitable sacrifice in return." She resumes her chained-up pose. "Pray that the guards don't notice anything amiss...at least, not until the guard has entered the cell."
Treesa considers the spell component pouch and tucks into her shirt. The rags were loose and filthy, but they disguised form as long as nobody was seriously looking. ”Thank you. They’ll be useful. Now, Asmodeus doesn’t tolerate weakness. The guards are weak. Kill them quickly!”
Dargon waits, ready.
((In case you want initiative from us))
Posh will cast grease on the horn.
Once the signal is given Treesa drops the act and rushes forward to the bars. She hexes the guard with the signal horn to make him more susceptible to magic expecting Rendylyn's magic to disable him while the men kill him. She sounds like she's laughing but anyone that knows about a witch knows the sound is a cackle to extend the power of her hex.
Once Posh and Tressa act, Morthos wants to charge the guard with the horn but finds the other guard blocking his way. "Dargon, Boy, the signal guard is yours. I cannot get to him," he says, drawing his black blade and stepping forward, aiming for the throat of the guard right next to him.
Rendylyn bursts into a high, mad laugh. "What a perfectly ridiculous spell, Posh! Let us show these Trinitarian scum what a farce they are before us."
Best to conserve my own magics until they are needed.