Morthos "the Malevolent"'s page

Watching the others go back to the prison, Morthos remains where he is. "That is the wrong way to freedom and a direction I will not be going." Morthos turns and heads out in the opposite direction, finding his own path to freedom.

Raising an eyebrow, while keeping his focus upon the wizard-warden, "I told you all he could not be trusted." And to the warden he says, "And I told you, you'd better make it count, fool." Morthos strikes hard at the warden.

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 3 + 1 = 11
Damage: 1d8 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 5 + 1 = 13

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

Narrowing his eyes, "Posh is correct. It's time to go. And I trust no one." Morthos moves up, placing the end of his sword at the throat of the warden. "And I certainly do not trust you, fool Warden. You are saying exactly what you must in hopes to survive, which, in a small way, deserves applause for your efforts, and leaves me unable to fully know where you stand. But I have no doubt you will betray us at first opportunity. And the ONLY way I will believe your tale is if our benefactor confirms you."

He then leans in really close, and stares daggers into the warden's eyes with his own cold, dead ones, before whispering, "And you and I both know he will not. Which gives you only a short amount of time to betray us. And when you do, you'd better make it count. I will be watching."

Grabbing him by the front of his robe, he pushes him forward toward the gate. "Time to go. Feel free to return to the prison and gather your 'things', Rendylyn. A fool's errand if there ever was one, with freedom right in front of us, but to each his own. I am leaving."

With his sword in the Warden's back, "Lead the way, fool Warden. Or my sword can lead the way as it exits through your chest. The decision is yours."

Intimidate: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (11) + 13 = 24

As Morthos moves toward the warden, "Rendylyn has lost her mind. I would advise to pay her no heed," he suggests as he moves right past her and next to the warden, trying to strike him down as well.

Move 30'; Attack warden(I'm assuming there's an opening there even though it doesn't look like it. If not, then just disregard).

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 3 + 1 = 16
Damage: 1d8 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 5 + 1 = 10

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

For when it's Morthos's turn... (As long as he isn't dead, that is).

Morthos continues his assault upon Blackerly.

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 3 + 1 = 16
Damage: 1d8 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 1 = 7

And I keep forgetting about Bard song. Good thing Red posted before me. Otherwise, I would have totally forgot.

I swear, while that might hit, I roll the most pathetic damage. But when I miss, then my damage is pretty much maxed out. Can't win for losing. :P

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

"For Hell's sake, Morthos, stop idling with that oaf and help Dargon deal with the wizard. He's more vulnerable to your steel anyway."

Keeping his focus upon Blackerly, "You all can deal with the warden. Blackerly is mine."

Morthos strikes back! His sword slicing from right to left in an attempt to cut him in twain.

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Morthos misses but appears completely undisturbed by it. "Consider yourself fortunate, Blackerly. The next time, you will not be so."

Morthos may be undisturbed but it irritates the crap out of me. Ugh. I swear. I couldn't hit water if I fell out of a boat. Ugh. Unfortunately, this has been my lot in my pbp life.

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

Morthos moves past Rendylyn and straight to Blackerly. "Your time is up, fool."

Move 10'; Attack Blackerly

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

I swear, I can't roll out of single digits if I were spotted +15. *I* would still find a way to be somewhere around 7. Ugh.

Missing horribly, "That only delays the inevitable, Blackerly. Enjoy your pathetic little life while you still can, fool."

Morthos calmly, yet determinedly, moves past Grumblejack and his bulk. "Death awaits you, Blackerly. Enjoy what little time you have left of your pathetic life." Morthos strikes at the dog, trying to remove it from the equation.

Move 30'; Attack dog

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

Hearing Treesa's words brings the slightest of a wicked grin to the antipaladin's face.

Morthos waits for the dog and strikes! as soon as it nears.

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

Morthos leads the way forward, keeping his position in front of Grumblejack and the others.

Speaking loud enough to be heard, "I suggest you throw your weapons down and surrender now, fools! That or run for your pathetic lives! Death is what you will face if you stand against us!"

Intimidate: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (3) + 13 = 16

"Posh and Treesa have the right of it. Freedom is our destination, and we are wasting time not heading toward it with this continued conversation."

"And as far as a guard potentially being posted at the gatehouse, we will deal with that issue if it becomes one, along with whatever else impedes our way."

He grinned and gave his imaginary hat a tug. “I say we walk fast, keep low, and let the rats squabble over the bones we’ve left behind.”

"And I will second Posh's suggestion. Not with equal flair, of course, but all the same."

Then turning his attention to the ogre, "Follow me, Grumblejack, freedom awaits you." And with that, Morthos leads the way out, walking with a determined purpose straight for the gatehouse.

Morthos raises a questioning eyebrow at Posh's antics before simply shaking his head.

Looking to Treesa, "The door is open. It is time to go. Let us not waste any more time on these pathetic guards." Morthos steps forward and attempts to stab the guard.

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Damage: 1d4 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

Yep. Amazingly enough, I actually know how to remove those icons. :P (I toyed with them in another game I was in back in the day, that also used 20).

Morthos follows after the ogre, figuring someone needs to keep him alive. He may be an unintelligent brute, but he is quite useful versus the enemy.

I'm not exactly sure what else to do right now. Open those doors, maybe? If that's even a possibility.

Morthos moves through the others and makes his way next to the closest archer before striking!

Move 25'; Attack

Longsword w/PA/Inspire Courage +1: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Crit confirm
Longsword w/PA/Inspire Courage +1: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19
Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

AC 19; HP's 10/10

Morthos steps forward and swings from right to left, working to slice the guard perfectly.

5' step; Inspire courage, Power Attack

Longsword: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5 Lol!
Damage: 1d8 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Missing, like he's been blinded or something, Morthos thinks nothing of it and prepares for his next attack. For a fool of a guard, this one is quite elusive.

Actually, that's pretty much what I would've done. Works for me.

Catching sight of the guard on the opposite wall, "There's another guard on the east wall!" he alerts the others.

"In legends, the villains always seem to fail because they underestimate the heroes. Let's not get into a habit of that."

"Now, dear Rendylyn, that depends on who you would characterize as villains and who as heroes. But it matters little, legends are nothing more than an embellishment of myth."

Morthos waits for the 'shot heard 'round the Talingarde', to see what fate awaits them.

"Well then!" Posh folds the map with a practiced snap and tucks it back into his coat. "Let it never be said I am too proud to defer to the judgment of my military betters. My field is cartography, not cavalry charges."

He gestures loosely toward the doors. "If the consensus is to sneak along the walls like shadows at a masquerade, I am perfectly content to follow—provided someone else volunteers to carry the ogre’s boots if he trips on the way up."

"Still..." he murmurs as he begins trailing after the others, "the most direct route is often the most overlooked. Ah well. No one ever wrote an epic about the shortest distance between two points."

Morthos narrows his eyes, pondering the gnome's words.

As they make their way to the side door, "Posh has a point. We should have checked the exit gate. I will not put it past these fools to forget to lock it. Although it is possible that they may have done something intelligent for once in their pathetic existence."

Raising an eyebrow after the "explosion", Morthos asks the ogre in a rhetorical nonchalant manner, "Feel better? Get up, Grumblejack, we are leaving. Help Dargon clear the barricade."

Moving racks of weapons to in front of the main door, Dargon pauses and glances towards the horrible noise. What in the Nine Hells was that? His Rapier is in his hand and he stands waiting for something coming out of the dining hall

"I do not believe that is a question you want answered, Dargon," he answers flatly.

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Listening to all the various takes on escaping, "While your plan has merit, Rendylyn, we are still relegated to exiting the front door. There is no other way out, except through here," he points at the door(Room 11) where Grumblejack locked himself in. "Which may very well be our best option, unless, the hounds reside in that area."

"But it matters not. Those are our only options and we must choose one. The north doors or the eastern door. And Treesa's idea of us all bearing shields as cover may very well be a prudent one."

Previously on WoTW...

Finally, he stares at the masterwork lute like a child handed a longsword.

“This is beautiful craftsmanship, clearly meant for someone with a longer armspan and a higher center of gravity.”

He gingerly lifts it and offers it to the nearest tall companion.

“Any of you big folk know which end to strum? Take it—it deserves to sing again, even if I cannot make it do so.”

Morthos looks stoically at the gnome, the lute, and then the gnome again. With a quiet sigh, he hands the prison map to Posh and takes the lute, putting it in his pack. "The prison map is yours. We shall depend on you, Posh, to get us out of here proper."

With that, Posh dusts off his hands and gives a proud nod, as if his work were done.

NOW, you have the map, Posh. :)

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Back to Currently...

Morthos locks the door and stows the key in his pocket. "Let us return to the others, gather what we can, and finally make our escape from this soon-to-be discarded prison. Due to Blackerly's failure, he is sure to meet the executioner for our escape, because our escape is imminent. We will not fail. And how I would find it pleasing to witness his head becoming separated from his shoulders," he states matter-of-factly, leaving one to wonder if this man has ever even smiled in his life. Like... at all. About anything. Ever.

Morthos quickly makes his way back to the others and heads for the armory. He takes two 50' ropes of his own and stows them. Moving back into the mess hall, he does not see the ogre. "Have you determined our best means of escape, Posh?"

Morthos has the prison map. I forgot to give it to you. Ugh. Oops. Unless someone took it from Morthos(or I gave it to somebody), and I've just forgotten about it. :P

"Morthos, we should move fast--a servant escaped, and has probably put the prison on alert. Go upstairs and unlock one of the cells, so we can shove these three in it. The Kid and I will be right behind you with them."

Raising an eyebrow, "I believe you have mistaken me for a fool slave, Rendylyn," he simply states.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

With the ogre shutting himself away from the others, Morthos watches them all try to convince the ogre to open the door.

Treesa shrugs and looks over at the wounded guards.

"Sure. Morthos? Can you come with me? I'll handle the locks. They won't dare try to fight with you ready to chop them apart."

As she moves the guards out to the hallway she 'assures' them. "Keep in mind that if any of you try to escape you will all die. We don't want to kill you. You're paid guards and don't deserve to die for doing your jobs. Obviously Blackerly’s the one that deserves to die!"

"A moment, Treesa."

Morthos moves to the door. "Grumblejack. It is time to open the door. We've no time for this nonsense. We are leaving the prison. If you stay, you will die. If you come with us, you will live. It is as simple as that. They have more guards than you can kill. With us, you'll be able to kill as many guards, that are foolish enough to stand in our way, as much as you wish and without dying. That should be an incentive for you. We cannot cure your poison but any wounds you have suffered can be tended to if necessary."

"This is our final offer, Grumblejack. Stay and die or come with us and live," he plainly offers. "The choice is yours."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (4) + 14 = 18

Turning back to Treesa, "Let us get these fools locked up as quickly as possible." Morthos readies himself with his sword and shield and walks behind the guards to make sure they don't try anything stupid.

With the way blocked by the ogre, Morthos calmly walks next to the beast and says, "Grumblejack, if you prefer assistance, you are going to need to step back. You are a useful warrior. I would hate for these fools to get in a lucky strike upon you, and you fall." He raises an eyebrow, wondering if it's even possible to convince the ogre to make room for the others; although, with the horrible treatment he has undoubtedly received from the guards, Morthos would completely understand if he doesn't.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31

I don't believe I can get through there. There's no place to really stand and attack. So, will delay for now.

Crap! Scratch that, please. Ugh. My bad. Reload from previous save...

Morthos moves into the room and looks around. Noticing the tied-up prisoner, he ignores him. Looking to the others, "Where is the screaming coming from?"

Hearing the scream across the way, Morthos' attention is drawn in that direction and he moves that way, drawing his sword as he does.

As soon as he walks into the room, he finds himself right next to the guard and attacks!

Move 25' while drawing sword; Attack Blue

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Ugh. Finely a hit and I can do nothing with it.

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

Irritated that he has yet to make it past the armory door, he swears under his breath.

Morthos then makes his way back into Blackerly's office. "Dargon, have you found anything else of importance? Perhaps a set of spare keys? The key I have is useless. We need inside the armory. It may possess a weapon for Grumblejack. Possibly something useful for Posh. I highly doubt it, though, since he's a gnome."

Morthos gives it another search, wondering if there is a second set somewhere.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12 Oh my gosh! How many FREAKING 9's can I roll?! I mean, is that ALL I'm going to roll from now on?! Seriously?! Sheesh.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

Yay! No 9's! Okay. I was just wondering. (Where was those freaking 19's when I needed them earlier? Ugh). :P

Intelligence: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12 Ugh. Nope!

Gotcha.

Picking up the map and looking to Dargon, "It appears we now need to inform Posh he can discard the crude map he's constructed. I have found one that will suffice perfectly."

Barring anything else of interest...

"If you find nothing else of importance, Dargon, the armory is our next objective. I will try the key we've acquired from the guard. If it doesn't work, your talents will be needed." Morthos then makes his way back to the armory door and tries the key that Posh obtained from the guard.

As he passes by the mess hall, he holds the map up by his head and says, "Posh. We've a real map," without ever slowing a step and while keeping his focus upon the armory.

@DM Therenger: Would it be possible for Morthos to draw his dagger and throw it at the escaping cook? If so, it's in the spoiler below.

Treesa moves up by Morthos as the others look around. The food smells good and having Grumblejack eat is a good idea.

"Once we're done with the guard I think gagging him and locking him up in a cell upstairs is the right thing to do. He might tell whoever let's him out that our word is good."

Nodding, "A perfect idea, Treesa."

__________________________________________________________________________

He rummaged briefly through the guard’s belt pouches and triumphantly held up a key, waggling it in Morthos’ direction.

"Another prize for your growing collection, dear knight."

Morthos moves over to the gnome, taking the key. "Perfect. Hopefully, this key serves its purpose."

________________________________________________________________________

"Why did you have to do that? You were cooperating. We weren't going to hurt you. Guys, Kill them!"

________________________________________________________________________

Dargon stands and glances around, seeing nothing of note he sticks his head out to Morthos and says...an office. likely the fool Blackerly's should we get? or search the desk?

His attention is then caught by the rogue. Narrowing his eyes, "Blackerly's office, you say?" he asks rhetorically, the venom in his tone quite clear. Morthos moves in and scans the area. "Search it. Search it all. That fool is likely to keep something of importance in here." Morthos begins the search, searching methodically, yet, also as quickly as he can.

Searching the office.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Nothing I hate more than a closed door with nothing behind it!

Kid goes and kicks in the door leading into the mess. map updated Sure enough, the guard is as good as his word. The room is empty but the smell of food lingers.

Watching Kid kick in the door, and with smell of food wafting out, he looks to the ogre. "It looks like it is time to eat, Grumblejack. Go."

Looking back at the guard, he sniffs. "Very well. Fortunately, it won't be necessary. We will find our way in."

Turning to their resident rogue, "See what you can do with the armory door, Dargon. Maybe they are foolish enough to leave it unlocked. Let us see." Morthos moves down to said door and tests it to see if it's locked.

Morthos will move to the door and will test the lock. If it is locked, then c'mon, Dargon! No pressure. ;P

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

Looking at the guard with indifference, "A fool you may be, but at least you possess a small manner of intelligence not to cross us. And I doubt the food is as good as you claim, but when you've nothing to compare it to, then you are none the wiser."

Hearing the roar from Grumblejack's midsection, "We will get you food, Grumblejack. Soon. You have my word."

Turning his focus back upon the guard, "Now, you are going to tell us where the armory is located. And if you possess the key, I will gladly accept it from you," he says, his visage completely stoic. And in no way would one believe that Morthos would be 'glad' about anything.

Intimidate: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (16) + 13 = 29

Morthos continues the attack on the same guard.

Longsword w/PA: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Damage: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Don't think I've mentioned my conflict I've had with the dice roller on these boards over the years. We totally don't get along. As you can see. Ugh.

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

"Yes. Kill them...."

With his focus directly ahead, "A fine plan," he responds plainly.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------

Realizing they've fooled no one, "Grumblejack, young one, eliminate these fools." Morthos says as he brings his sword around from right to left, in an attempt to take the guard's head off.

Attack
Longsword: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Or, you know, NOT. Ugh.

Missing horribly, "A minor setback," he simply explains.

AC 19; Hp's 10/10

As the guards near, "Do any of you have a plan? If so, make it quick."

Okay, Posh, you're up. :)

Dargon glances at Rendylyn and sighs. she may be right.

He then remarks if that's our course of action, maybe Morthos what if you start walking down the hall with a limp, pretending injury, when you get half way, we all start running down towards them, you pretend to be fleeing us and see if you can get close enough before they catch on to take out the hornblower

Rising, and with clear frustration upon his visage, "I shall attempt it, but I gather it will make no difference what we do. It appears this will come down to nothing more than killing our way out. Whatever plans any of you might have had for anything other than that, I would suggest you all forget them. This looks more and more like our only course. And the chimney will be of no use. Grumblejack will prove to be a critical ally in all of this. Possibly. If he remembers he's here."

Gathering his shield and drawing his sword, Morthos moves to the door. "Prepare yourselves. The time is now." Taking a deep breath, he lowers his head and opens the door, limping at a hurried pace toward the guards, continuously looking back as he does, acting as if he's wondering how close the escaped prisoners are to 'catching up', while making his way toward the guard with the horn.

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

This ought to be interesting. Or, you know, maybe not.

Morthos says nothing, continuing to act as if the guard had not been heard, remaining at the foot of the stairs with his back turned. And to prepare himself in case the guards do enter, he gets down on one knee.

Good. Bring the fool Blackerly to us. You will have saved us the trouble of hunting him down. Odds are, we would have lacked the time to find him. Thank you, you fools. This is even better than I expected.

Raising an eyebrow and looking none too pleased, "I am no fool like these guards, Dargon. I am far ahead of you. Words are clearly no longer of any use. When they come to inspect why I have not responded, they will see me at the bottom of the stairs, with my back turned, preparing to go up. It is obvious what they will do next, and it will lead to their demise. Now, we should prepare ourselves to end these fools."

Looking to Treesa, "Grumblejack should wait upstairs. Odds of his being seen are too great. As soon as he is witnessed, we have lost the element of surprise."

With the door open just enough to be able to hide his face in shadow, "Be ready," he whispers to the others.

Responding to the guard's question, "What's that supposed to mean?! It's me, guys! C'mon! I told you, we need help with Grumblejack. If you don't want to help, then never mind. But if one of us gets killed by the beast and it gets back to Blackerly you didn't help, well, good luck." And with that, Morthos 'the guard' turns and leaves, heading for the stairs, stopping at the beginning of them.

Keeping his voice low so only the others can hear, "There are two guards, the northeast one possesses a horn. Be wary. Eliminate him first if possible."

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 Aw crap. Of course.

Dargon nods at the empty hall with the door and he comes up behind Morthos and whispers I'll stand next to that door, you open it and see if you see any guards. If you do see if you can bring them here so I can flank one. I'll get Kid down here to crouch on the stairs so maybe they won't notice him 'til it's too late. Maybe if there are guards, we can take them out here by surprise. What do you think? He waves kid down towards them.

Stowing his shield, Morthos narrows his eyes in thought before nodding in agreement. With his shield stowed away, he opens the door just a crack, peering within.

If he happens to catch sight of any guards, Morthos quietly clears his throat and keeps his face hidden as best he can before finally saying, "We could use a little help. The ogre is giving us fits, and we could use some backup. I guess the stuff is wearing off on him or something, I don't know. He just seems more fired up than usual. I just know if we don't get more help, one of us is bound to be his lunch. And if that happens, well, I'm sure Blackerly will not be thrilled about that. Probably have one of us strung up for it, would be my guess."

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (8) + 9 = 17

Morthos slouches a little, his shield in hand. He carries it to aid in blocking some of his face, and he works to keep his visage in the shadows as best he can.

He casually walks down the stairs, keeping an eye out for any guards.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Calmly turning his focus to the changeling, "I am not interested in 'impressing' anyone, Rendylyn. Currently, I am only interested in escaping. Once we are free, then we will meet up with this 'superior' of this 'Tiadora' and see what he has in store for us. Whether he accepts me or not, means nothing to me. I've only one purpose, and I vow to fulfill it."

"And as far as 'massacring' everyone, that would be an unnecessary waste of our time and could cost us dearly. No, my dear Rendylyn," he starts, looking away and losing himself in reverie, "we want some of them left alive. We want them to know who escaped. We want them to spread our names far and wide so they KNOW who is coming for them. They will fear us! Fear us ALL! That is what is desired. And once fear has overtaken their heart, THAT is when they have already lost. And THAT is when victory becomes ours for the taking."

Soon, pathetic king, soon. You will know my name soon enough.

Nodding, "The more we know, Treesa. Yes, if the young one can deliver a guard unconscious, then that would aid us greatly."

Looking over at the monk, "Can you manage it?" he simply asks.

Morthos follows the gnome's instruction to the letter, impressed with the bard's handiwork. "Brilliant, Posh. This should be enough to fool these dimwitted fools perfectly," he states matter-of-factly.

"I count three exits. The stairs, the chimney, and Asmodeus's window." She eyes the ogre. "Those last two might be a tight squeeze for this giant. What's your name, big fellow? I'm Rendylyn, a priestess. My god wants us to leave this prison and kill everyone in our way. You should be a great help with that. "

"The stairs. That is our exit. There is, no doubt, an outer wall surrounding this prison. With this prison's level of security, there could possibly more than one wall. But that is unimportant. What is important is that we utilize the window for the outside wall. Just in case the portcullis becomes an issue we cannot resolve. These fools are fools, but I don't believe they are foolish enough to not have built a portcullis. If they have not, all the more excellent for our escape."

"If the window becomes necessary to use sooner, then so be it. We will adapt and adjust accordingly."

"However, if someone intends to impersonate our former jailers, do speak up. I have a modest hand at disguises, and might yet make the charade more convincing. One wrong thread, after all, can unravel a very fine tapestry."

Raising an eyebrow, "Clever, Posh. Quite clever. I accept your offer. Even if it buys us only a fraction of a moment, that is a moment these fool guards can ill afford."

As he dons his armor, he asks the others, "Where is the exit? This entire area seems to consist of nothing but cells."

Truly impressed by the ogre's level of speech, Morthos grins wickedly. "It would be my pleasure." Morthos moves in and frees the ogre from his chains. Then, another thought comes to mind, and he expresses it in a perfectly civil manner. "Feel free to run rampant and kill as you wish, beast, or join with us and be freed completely. Odds are, by yourself, you will kill many, but eventually you would be overwhelmed and eliminated. But together with us, your chances of survival increase dramatically. As do ours, I would wager. You would be a formidable opponent, or a formidable ally, depending on one's perspective. The choice is yours."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (9) + 12 = 21

Having freed the ogre, Morthos returns to the others, and gathers some armor and a shield to go along with the longsword he has already acquired.
"The beast is free. I do not believe we are threatened by him. His fury lies with the guards."

Looking curiously at Rendylyn, he holds the guard's keys up in front of him. "I believe the guard's keys will suffice. Unless they do not. Then Dargon can assist. And revenge comes automatically to a prisoner who is starved by his captors. That goes without saying."

Will attempt this if possible...

I will also guess that the prisoner is against the back wall and in darkness, so I am going to go with unable to see him currently. Plus, it makes for a good movie-type dramatic feel when he steps out of the shadows. :) (If he's not chained to the back wall like we were)

Morthos walks over to the cell next door and looks within. Unable to clearly see the prisoner, "Hello, prisoner. We've no time for long discussions, so I will offer you this: I will grant you your freedom for food and a chance of revenge upon those who placed you here. All I ask in return is that you concentrate your fury upon the guards and not upon us. Do you understand? What say you?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27

"The only food is that which the guard left. I will grab the keys this one possesses." Morthos inspects the guard's possessions and takes his keys and his sword. As he does, "Whatever resides in the cell next to us, I say we offer it food - a guard will suffice if it eats humanoids - and let it out. Perhaps it will spare us in the process. If it does not decide to devour us, it can be used as a perfect distraction for the other guards while we make our escape." While the threat of being eaten by the creature is a real possibility, Morthos offers the plan up in a matter-of-fact manner.

It looks like I can charge the guard. It appears he's on this side of the door. I could be wrong. If so, just disregard.

With the clear path ahead of him, Morthos takes off at a quickened pace toward the guard. Strangely enough, it looks more like an intense, determined walk more so than a run.

Charge; Power attack; IC +1/Charge +2

Black bladed dagger w/PA: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Damage: 1d4 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Ugh. Did not need that.

AC 11; Hp's 10/10

Initiative: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14

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.

Dagger w/PA: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
Damage: 1d4 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

Man, I sure hope a 17 hits.

AC 13; Hp's 10/10

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."