Working quickly, Libby removes clothes from one of the felled guards on the stairs. From these, and using belts to secure it, she fashions a makeshift sack into which she inserts the papers and ledgers taken from Blackerley's office.
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Unable to influence the fight further, Libby watches on.
Remaining where she is, Libby inhales deeply, closing her eyes momentarily as she does so. "Just the two guards this time, gents...just think of it as practice." Once again, the girl's words cut through any hint of doubt in the minds of her allies and bolster their desire to escape.
At Ferrin's suggestion, Libby wordlessly heads back towards the stairs, climbing halfway up to give the others room. Still struggling under the weight of the rope coiled around her body, she decides that it's surplus to requirements and dumps it onto the floor beside her. She waits.
"No! We need to allow them in and then cut off their escape." With a plan forming in her mind, Libby dashes into the mess hall to check the door on the south wall. She returns at once.
"Perhaps we should leave the box for later and try this door instead.". Libby indicates the door she's just been listening at. "I couldn't hear anything through it, although if anyone's beyond it, they've probably been scared off by your curses." The girl smiles at her own joke as she moves away from the door, giving Ferrin space to work.
Following the antipaladin's lead (although hopefully with more success) Libby listens at the locked door in the office room.
"They say that talking to yourself is the first sign of madness." Libby has left the group and returned, to stand in the doorway of Blackerley's room. She studies the Inquisitor as he works, curious to know who - or, rather, what - he is.
With as much sympathy as she can muster, given their circumstances, Libby addresses the witch. She's realised that he's searching for his pet. "Unfortunately, Calvin, I don't think Tobias is going to be here. We were never supposed to leave this place so they'd have no reason to keep any of our belongings. We can look for him when we're out, if you like, but for now, getting out should be our priority." She hesitantly extends a comforting arm towards the man but changes her mind part way through her movement. "Can anyone tell whether it's dark or light outside?".
"We are currently here. We came from the south, here. The room that Ferrin is in is here. The guard's mess is here.". Libby has returned to the corridor and is holding the map so all can see it. She speaks slowly and clearly, and uses bold, unambiguous gestures, so all those watching know exactly to where she refers. With each mention of the word 'here', she points to the corresponding area on the map. The girl pauses for a short while to adjust the rope coiled round her body; she seems to be struggling under it's bulk. "The guard's sleeping quarters are beyond this door here." She points at the door on the north wall of the mess room on the map and then indicates it's direction with an outstretched arm. "These three crosses, I believe, represent guards. I also believe that we - or rather, you - killed them on the stairs back there; however, it's safer if we assume they are still there."
Given the lack of activity in front of her, Libby pushes her way to the front and follows Ferrin into the room to the left. Unlike the Inquisitor, she stops to quickly sift through the items on the desk - and through any drawers there - looking for anything that may be useful.
"Who's Tob...actually, now's not really the time. I suggest the door to the right; door to the left; far door.", comes the now-familiar tone from the back. Someone has to make a decision; might as well be me. "Grumblejack, take this.". The half-ogre turns to find a slightly wary Libby offering a longsword up for him to take. Stood in his shadow, she looks tiny; Poki, stood beside them both, smaller still.
Slowing her pace, Libby allows a gap to form between her and the rest of the group. She'd only get in the way should more guards arrive and, besides, her work was best done from the rear. Don't slouch, Aliberesse. Head up, shoulders back. You own the room; let people know it. As the words of her trainers come unbidden into her mind, Libby automatically takes a deep breath, rolls her shoulders to remove the tension from them and straightens her back, making herself stand taller. Just because you're escaping from prison doesn't mean you need adopt the bearing of a common thief. The girl grins to herself. That's what they'd say, were they to see her now. ------------ "Don't quote me,", Libby whispers. "but I imagine these rooms are unoccupied. That's not to say we should relax our guard but we do need to move quickly."
As the guards are stripped and equipment distributed, the young girl descends the stairs and - listening before she does so - sticks her head out of the doorway, to assess their way out, stopping briefly to claim the dagger dropped by the tiefling on her way. Assuming no immediate danger: Upon seeing the area clear, Libby returns to the guardroom and to the pile of clothing yielded by the veil, claiming a pair of sturdy boots, canvas pants, a shirt and a lightweight hooded coat in a mixture of blacks and browns; hardly flattering, but practical. Stepping into the antechamber, it doesn't take her long to ditch the rags and don her new attire, ready for the next part of the escape. "The name's Libby.", she states as she reappears. "And we have friends on the outside who would like us to join them." she adds, with a smile, addressing the shapeshifter.
"Let them come. Prove that good doesn't always prevail; that their laws won't protect them." Once again, the voice of the youth rings out, the magic within making every swing of her allies' weapons strike more true; every hit seem to bite deeper. Satisfied that her words have woven their web around the hearts of those on her side, Libby passes the much-desired bag to the druid. "Go and have some fun." she adds, her eyes shining. The girl then returns to the mundane task of removing the guard's armour.
"Spell component pouch here, for...the...where did she go?" A combination of the darkness, the chaos of the fight and her own activities has meant that the young girl has only partly kept abreast of the changes in the guard room. She peers around the room looking for Poki and finds herself momentarily distracted by the two reptilian creatures. "I also have what appears to be a healing potion, should anyone need it." she announces, after a pause. Unable to influence the fight in any way, Libby waits for a gap to appear and - a whispered warning before she does so - slips past her accidental allies and into the cell-block, to continue removing the downed guard's armour.
Libby shakes her head as the ogre is dropped yet again. "Don't worry, I'm sure these fine gents will be more than happy to provide solace to your widows and daughters once we're out of here." The girl's cruel barb - aimed at the first guard up the stairs - seemingly fails to move him.
"Warrior, you're needed at the front.". Her second comment is directed towards the door to the cells. Despite the chaos, the girl's voice projects throughout the two rooms, audible to all, her communication keeping everyone abreast of the situation. Not wanting to get in anyone's way, the teen remains where she is, watching the fight as it progresses. Watching for advantages.
"We could do with everyone up front now." The girl had just finished speaking when the door is thrown open and the dog bursts into the room. "Keep them on the stairs and we'll be able to pick them off one-by-one.", she intones. Knowing the magic accompanying her words will serve to steady the hands of her comrades, she turns her attention once again to the veil, discreetly pulling off the patches that represent a sack and a potion vial.
"Guards incoming. I'm unsure of numbers.". Libby retreats back up the stairs. "If we fight them here, we have the advantage of height. There's a big table in the adjoining room that we could possibly use as a shield, maybe for the archers. Or we could possibly drop it behind them, to cut off their retreat.". The slight girl speaks with confidence - a complete contrast to the girl locked up in the cell - as she moves around the rooms, collecting weapons and handing them to those that want them. "I'm no tactician, however, so correct me if I'm wrong.". There's a warmth in the smile that follows her last statement. If we go down to leave, does that mean we're in a tower?
Upon seeing the empty room, the young girl spins and strides across the floor to the top of the stairs besides the rogue, her bare feet making little sound against the cold, stone floor.. As she moves, she speaks. "More weapons here, on the wall. We could do with him being kept alive, as a hostage, if you can. Remind him of any family he may have." Once again, the girl's voice rings clear over the sound of the combat. No time to delay. she thinks, as she heads down the stairs.
This isn't how it's supposed to be. The warrior's short blade finds it's mark, sending a spray of crimson into the air and ending the life of the defiant guard. Libby watches him as he falls. Although she'd lived around violence all her life, it was always in the background; this butchery was new to her. He had family, probably a wife or girlfriend, maybe children, who will now grow up father-less. Stavros crossing her vision interrupts the girl's thoughts. Skirting the two bodies, she makes her way into the guardroom and tries the handle of the door there. "He's worth more to us alive, if you can.", she states, impassively.
Inspire Courage:
+1 competence bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls. +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects.
The young girl is just in the process of removing the sack patch from the veil when she hears the horn sound. Immediately, she knows what it is. Immediately, her heart sinks. Idiots! Her mind races. She looks over to the only door out of the place to see that it's blocked with bodies. Not that she'd know what to do if she got past them. Calm down. Think. Recalling the breathing exercises she had to practice for hours on end, to still her body and mind, she never realised just how much would be at stake now that she needed to use them in earnest. A number of plans form quickly in the girl's head; she rejects all but one. With a determined look on her face, she strides forward , fills her lungs and speaks, her voice ringing clearly throughout the two rooms. "We've been given this chance to escape. Let's not falter at the first obstacle." The words seem to bolster her fellow convicts.
Inspire Courage: +1 competence bonus on attack and weapon damage rolls. +1 morale bonus on saving throws against charm and fear effects
NO! The girl raises her head to the sky as the chance to surprise the guards disappears. She inhales then exhales, deeply and slowly, to steady herself. Realising she can do nothing to influence things at the far end of the cell-block, she turns her attention to the door behind her. Pushing her hair back, she swiftly presses the left side of her head against the door, covering her right ear with a hand to better hear any noises beyond. Perception:
The two weapons patches are hastily removed from the veil, to yield scabbarded daggers. With a small smile, Libby presents them to both the human and the tiefling, whom she presumes to be warriors of some kind. If not warriors, they should at least be able to use those things. "Beyond the door is a small antechamber, with provision for two guards.", she volunteers. "We know there are at least two in there currently, Hanes and another. We also know that they're not heavily armed and, whilst alert, they don't seem too thorough." Having said her piece, and once out of the cell, she seems content to keep out of the way, remaining off to the side where she can.
"I'll speak to you once we're out of this cell." whispers the girl as the last of her shackles is removed. She stands and inhales deeply, holding it inside her small frame for a short time before releasing slowly. Running her fingers through her hair, she tries to remove some of the tangles but it proves to be a futile effort so, instead, she settles for pulling it back from her face and tucking it down the back of her clothing. Padding quietly over to the part of the cell nearest to the door, she turns to watch Stavros at work, all the while listening for sounds of activity from the guard room. The veil is still balled in the girl's fist. It's not often I turned to you but, if you have any plans for me beyond joining you in your domain, now might be a good time to show it.
Taking care to scrunch the material she holds into a ball and hiding it in her fist, the teen adopts the pose of a beaten person: head down and her body limp in the shackles. Although helpless, she remains alert, trying to ascertain the professionalism of the approaching guard: does he walk with purpose and spend some time doing a thorough check or does he shuffle in, peer into the cell, belch then leave? Inside, she holds on to the thought that the guard will be more concerned with his game of cards or whatever he was doing than with the prisoners.
"Me?" *flutters eyelashes* :)
Having allowed the scorpion to take the picks, Libby smiles at Myra. "There is that way, of course.", she declares, "And no, I've no idea which way to go once we're out of here.". She finishes with a slight shrug. Turning to face her pink-haired colleague, Libby smiles warmly again. "I can't comment on any plans that are to be made, but it's nice to know that you're looking out for us, Poki."
Clearing her throat gently, the young girl waits until she has regained the full attention of those in the cell with her. She speaks slowly and clearly. "If we're to escape from here, we need to work together. Should we get out, I imagine that very few people will be prepared to help us; not least of all because of the rather sizable bounties on our heads. Consider: you have a prison that you're rightly proud of; one that no-one has ever escaped from. How far do you go to recapture five people that do escape? I imagine that the amount of money involved will be enough to make even the most loyal of friends think twice about reporting you.". She pauses to let the idea sink in. "The person who engineered this opportunity is also one who would aid me on the outside...myself and those of you who escape with me, I should stress. And not only aid us but...". The girl appears to consider her words. "Let's just say that this person has plans for those who do escape." The young girl's mouth curls up slightly at the corners; a gleam shines in her eyes. The young girl that, barely two hours ago looked close to breakdown, holds the tools to escape literally in her hands. "So, shall we?", she enquires. Placing the picks into her mouth, she leans across to pass them to her impatient sister-in-crime.
A proper roll this time. I'm not sure what I'm to add to it so I'll let you (DM) decide. Manipulating the magic veil.
"Where I got it from isn't the question you should be asking." Still focussed on the veil, it's the first time the teen has been heard to speak. Her accent indicates an outsider; certainly not from anywhere on the lake, nor even from the Heartland. Despite speaking softly to avoid alerting the guards, her voice rings out clear and confident. The girl examines the cloth more closely, taking a moment to evaluate it. "Now, someone mentioned 'tools'...". At this, Libby maneuvers the delicate material in her hands until she's able to touch one of the embroidered rods. Taking a breath, she first touches and then swiftly pinches the fabric, as though retrieving a real pick.
Ignoring any questions aimed at her, it's some time before the girl does anything other than stare at her lap, as though deep in thought. When finally she does act, it's to raise her head and look each of the occupants of the cell over, holding their gaze should they glance in her direction. Once done, she appears to rub her cheek on the bicep of her right arm; it's a few heartbeats before you realise she's manipulating the sleeve of the rags she wears, sliding it down towards her shoulder to reveal a strip of delicate silk, black, encircling her upper arm. Taking an end in her teeth and gently tugging at it, she slides it from around her limb and then, raising her head, takes it with her hands. Very aware of the gaze of everyone in the cell, she unfolds the fine material.
Her wrists cut and bleeding, Libby stops the futile attempts to free herself. With a gentle sigh, she sits herself down, closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths. At the sound of the cell door being unlocked, the young girl re-opens her eyes. The expression on her face doesn't change, even as the guards enter the room, her only reaction a slight yelp as they manhandle her to her feet and through the door. As she passes Blackerly, she raises her head and casts him an icy glance, before being marched out of view.
See ya, suckers!: Glad to be free of her restraints, and the vice-like grip of her escort, Libby takes the opportunity to stretch her limbs, to get the blood flowing around her body again. Aware of the sharp pain she feels from the branding, the young girl is torn between trying to relieve her discomfort and finding out who the woman sat before her is. She chooses the latter, merely placing a hand tenderly over her wound to try and dull the ache, at least temporarily. Her visitor starts to speak, and Libby listens intently. Her eyes, lined red and wet with tears, take in every detail of the stranger's face, her clothing, her expressions. She doesn't speak, nor react, except to take the offered gift, tying it loosely around her upper arm and ensuring that the sleeve of the rags she wears completely obscures it. Looking back to the woman, Libby holds her gaze for a brief moment, then nods, almost imperceptibly. Tears roll freely down her cheeks, a combination of pain and the slightest glimmer of hope that has just been given to her. Of course, it could all be an elaborate hoax; a game played by persons unknown for amusement at my expense.
DM: I've added an extra section to Libby's sheet for you to read. If you need me to change, explain or expand on anything, let me know.
The young Sczarni takes a cursory look at her companions - for want of a better word - and then to the heavy shackles that hold her. I wonder how many monsters these things have constrained before me? she wonders, and then decides that she doesn't want to know. Taking her cue from the Aasimar, she narrows her hands as best she can and tries to pull them through the cold, iron hoops; the flesh of her wrists bloodying as she does so. Escape Artiste: Can I Take 20 with this? Not that I think I can do it anyway. If not,
Can I get back to you on that? I'm not sure that the 0.57 of an XP per mile that I'd have to travel to get there and back is such a good deal!! :)
The leering face of the noble...the rough treatment by the guards..."Guilty"..."Life in the salt mines"...Life in the...LIFE... Tears flow freely down the teen's cheeks, creating narrow tracks in the dirt on her face. New voices...scorpion...Blackerly...criminals...escape... It takes a while for the last word to filter through to the girl's conscious mind. Escape. Was she deluding herself? The judge had said it was impossible; that no-one had escaped from...wherever it is that we are. My mind must be playing tricks on me. Hadn't he? Slowly, and keeping her head down still, she allows herself to tune into her surroundings. She breathes in deeply, stilling her shaking body. It takes several minutes for her to focus. Four or five people. One woman, three males and another creature. They're talking, which is a good sign. They can't get to me, can they? They're chained up, too? Aren't they? Raising her head, she shakes her hair from her face as best she can. With wide eyes, dark circles betraying a lack of sleep, she peers warily at her new surroundings.
The girl's head hangs limply, a mass of lank, black hair obscuring her face and covering most of her slender torso. Her skin, pale, contrasts with the dark-red of the blood that seeps from scratches covering her arms. She tries to pull her legs up to her chest but the chains that bind you all denies her even that small comfort. At the sound of the voices, she tenses, pressing herself back against the hard, cold wall; a few heartbeats pass and she starts to shake visibly.
It would appear that a number of the new inmates are martials so I will stick with Libby. (Put her in the skill section :) )
There doesn't seem to be too much in the way of front-liners posted so I'll go with a fighter. Do you (DM) want me to use the rolls above and I'll change the focus/foible stats, or would you prefer me to reroll? I'll post the new concept under a new name.
Focus: Cha
What shocking rolls!! Aw, well. DM: I created Libby some time ago for a game that didn't get going. Along with your campaign, I've also applied to another game. I'm going to leave the mechanics as they are for now and, should you choose me, I'll make the necessary changes. Her concept and background, etc. is already in place and should be enough to base your decision on.
DM. I'm going to submit Libby. I created her some time ago for another game that didn't work out and I've not looked at her since so there may be a few things that don't make sense; I'll make sure everything is neat & tidy should I get picked. :)
Lawful doesn't necessarily mean one obeys the laws of the land; consider it more like having certain codes. Read the LN entry, specifically: A lawful neutral character acts as law, tradition, or a personal code directs her. The mafia are a lawful group. They break a lot of laws (of the land) but are big on honour and tradition. That said, this *really* isn't the place for a debate about alignment. :D
Libby is hiding out in Riddleport.
Libby would like to be considered.
I created Libby for another CC campaign but, unfortunately, she didn't make the cut. Role: skill
Were the 2 hookers I sent round not good enough for ya, Mike?!! Bah!!They probably didn't clear immigration. ; ) Stuffing their brassieres with blow probably didn't help too much in that respect, either!! :D
Were the 2 hookers I sent round not good enough for ya, Mike?!! Bah!! :P Congrats, all. :) If anyone does want to run an AP, consider me interested. (I don't have enough time to host one myself, sadly.)
Is it Monday yet? :D
I *think* I've sorted the contradictions in Libby's backstory... :S Will do equipment and spells tomorrow.
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