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OK, first things first: sincere apologies for lack of posts. Good news: I got a promotion. Bad news: I now have a metric ****-ton of extra work to do, plus travel. I’m still around, but I won’t be able to post once a day. We’re looking like – at best – every other day. If I am holding stuff up please just bot me and I’ll do my best to catch up.
"That potion could come in handy, but let's try to keep the fighting on our terms. So what's next?" She looks dubiously at the guards on top of the gatehouse. "They could spot us easily enough if they looked our way - I'd hate to leave that sort of thing to chance."
Rigel will not willingly pass up on the opportunity to retrieve the dead guards' belongings. "After all, not as if they're using them where they're gone, honey," she remarks to nobody in particular. "Sure would be a shame for anything to go to waste."
If nobody else takes it, Rigel will pick up the iron strongbox - it's fairly obvious that it holds valuable contents. In the storeroom, she eyes the barrels of lantern oil. "You know, if we gatecrash the poker room with some burning oil it would sure end the fight in a hurry..."
Rigel listens, impressed, as Hel relates her discovery. "Good work, honey! I think we should make sure that the sergeant gets his full reward for that. They'd probably send him to Branderscar..." Poetic justice, in her favour - her favourite kind of justice.
"Killing people who are asleep seems like the best time to do it, honey." Rigel gives Demlin a quick look, hoping that she isn't soft. "It's us or them, you know..." Her eyes alight on the papers and she sorts through them, looking for anything of particular interest. Information is currency, after all.
Rigel has both Linguistics and profession (barrister) if either of those would assist in sorting through piles of documents.
"There is no need to kill the servants because of my words. I did not say where we were going - I said we'd probably stop two villages from the nearest one, which was deliberate misinformation. As I recall, our true destination is no such place, is it, Rigel?" Rigel nods. "That's right, honey, our friend told us we're going someplace else. Whether we do that or not is something we should think about, later, maybe." Her eyes sparkle as she eyes the equipment in the armour, mentally calculating its value. Shame they can't carry it all with them; and resale could be tricky, what with the whole 'wanted criminals' thing. She dons a chain shirt for extra protection, and takes a heavy mace from the bin, swishing it a few times to get a feel for it. Armed and armored, she looks surprisingly un-lawyerly.
@Hel - good thoughts! Killing guards before they wake up strikes me as high priority. @Demlin - sorry to hear that, hope things improve. My start to 2018 has been a bit chaotic
Rigel smiles encouragingly to keep the flow of information coming. She's never broken out of prison before, but this sounds like information they could use. "Shame there's so many of us, and only one green cloak! We could use that, otherwise."
Sorry... been having internet connection issues (plus phone issues because of course everything happens at once). Back now, hopefully.
Rigel does a quick search of the mess hall, looking for anything of interest or value.
She points at the South door. "If the fireplace is behind that door, stands to reason that's the kitchen." She smiles. "I sure wouldn't say no to a bite to eat, and there might be a weapon or two there for the finding, also."
Rigel scoops up the keys if nobody else is interested in them. Keys mean locks, and locks mean potentially useful things behind them. She shakes her head at Hel's question. "Haven't seen any girl-guards here, honey, but I have a spell that will briefly make me look like pretty much anything." She smiles. "Doesn't affect my voice, though, so it's limited use if we have to get into conversation."
Safely out of harm's way, Rigel stays back, ready to jump in if needed; but it looks like the others have things well in hand. She moves to intercept the horn, to stop any of the guards trying to retrieve it.
Rigel utters a quick prayer to Asmodeus, asking him to guide Wesh's strike against the do-gooders.
Picking up one of the discarded daggers, Rigel carefully tests its edge before sidling out of the way of the frontliners. At least she's not defenceless; but hopefully it won't be needed. The people she's with seem very competent.
If there's a weapon going spare, Rigel will take it.
Rigel watches with a mixture of trepidation and awe as the ogre 'disposes' of the bodies. "Well, gracious to goodness!" She listens in on the conversation, but doesn't have much to offer from a tactical standpoint. Besides, she's basically out of spells for the day now and reliant on other means.
Sorry - clerics get 2 spell points/level...
Rigel smiles. "Well, isn't that nice. We've made a new friend!" She looks with curiosity at the potion they have taken from the guard.
Ugh. Work has been crazy. Still here!
If memory serves, getting lethal damage cured also cures all non-lethal damage. Could be wrong, I've played way too many rules systems to have them all memorized.
Once again, Asmodean cunning proves superior to Mitran self-righteousness. Rigel gives a smile and stretches languorously (it's so good to be out of those shackles!), before wandering over to Wesh. "Wake up, honey. Asmodeus isn't done with you yet."
It's more of a gamble than she prefers, but things are desperate - Rigel lunges at the guard, not trying to kill him but trying to bring him down. He must not be allowed to escape. She only hopes that a childhood of rough-housing with her older siblings will stand her in good stead. If all else fails, she has to hope that she's more use to Asmodeus alive than dead.
Her outline blurs slightly as she strikes at the guard, trying to bring him down.
Ugh. Travel may broaden the mind but jet-lag sure as **** kills the will to live. I'll review where we are and post once I'm awake.
Rigel moves carefully away from the fight and towards the injured monk. "Don't fret, honey, Asmodeus is watching." It's not clear whether this is a good thing or not, but healing energy trickles from her hand as she lays it on Hel's shoulder.
Advance warning: I have been called away with work and will be out from Sunday to Wednesday. Will post as I can which might not be much.
Hm. I'd always assumed that the dice gods were evil but apparently they don't like us, either!
There's nothing quite like an unfair fight, but the odds can always be weighted further. Rigel steps forward, lightly pressing a hand to Gallen's shoulder.
Rigel flashes the man a smile, and maybe a bit else besides: "Aw honey, you say the sweetest things..." As the action starts, she keeps a prudent distance behind the fighters, ready to step in and provide healing as required.
Point taken - I'm available for door opening services!
Do we want to try and get the door open as well, hit the guards front and back? Flanking would give an extra +2 to hit, which is useful when they have armour and we don't.
Rigel treats Demlin to a dazzling smile as her lock pings open. "Why thank you, honey!" She stretches languorously, before lifting up the Asmodean symbol that hangs around her neck and pressing it to her lips - it's uncharacteristic of her to be so demonstrative, but the situation demands it. Only a day ago she was headed for the stake, and now she's headed... somewhere else. She's not sure where, but it doesn't really matter. Occasionally, the 'from' is more important than the 'to.'
As Demlin fiddles with applying the window to the interview room, Rigel archly quirks an eyebrow at the cell in the other direction. "Do we want to find out who we're sharing a prison with?"
Rigel flashes a smile at Demlin. "You got it, honey." She passes over the veil, but not before first peeling off the Asmodean symbol. You don't let go of power when it comes your way, after all.
Heh. Yeah, I was kind of being facetious, but tone of voice doesn't really transmit very well in this format :-)
Given that (by RAW) only priests/paladins, undead and creatures with 5+ Hit Dice register under the detect good/evil/etc spell, I'm hoping that they don't register!
Wesh: moving conversation to this thread. Agreed on conservation of resources - but the first fight is going to be one of the hardest. Once the guards are dead, we have their armour and weapons, but right now we have exactly 2 daggers and no armour. You and Gallen are likely to get pretty bloodied!
Rigel gives a nod and a smile. "Our angry friend is right. Best to wait and do it once, properly. If we act just after the change of guard, it'll give us time before they're found." She watches carefully and learns the guards's routine. "Alright, here's the plan, as I see it - feel free to chip in... OK, so I'll take the lockpicks off the patch and give them to Demlin here, who'll pick our locks. Then she opens the cell door and we give the 1 dagger to Wesh and the other to Sir Gallen here. We find out who or what is in the cell next to us, and if they want to help. We use the window to bypass the door in the stone wall and put Wesh and Gallen through it, to take down the guards. That's the part I don't like, as it's 2 on 2 and they're armoured. But if we try and open the door we lose the advantage of surprise. I have some spells that might help some."
Unfortunately I'm travelling with work for the next few days so posting will be intermittent.
OK, some of this is just going to be easier planned OOC. Looking at the map, we have to get through our shackles, the door to our cell, and then another door (plus the door to whatever is in the cell that Rigel heard) before we can get to the guards - which gives them a lot of time to spot us and raise the alarm. Actually, DM, I just want to check something - looks like the 'wall' to our cell is barred and therefore see-through; what about the wall with the guards on the other side? Is that bars or solid? If it's bars, the guards are almost bound to see us coming. @Demlin: if you're going for a combat-based rogue, Combat Trick is good as it gives you another feat. Weapon Training can be handy too, as it makes up for your 3/4 BAB. Out of combat, Fast Stealth is nice.
It's not easy with hands shackled above her head, but Rigel gets enough of a look at the piece of gossamer silk to be able to report: "Well, let's see now... several cloth patches - a couple daggers, a vial, a coiled rope, a sack, a pile of coins, a lantern, a window, and, perhaps most mportantly, a couple patches that look like lockpicks and a holy symbol of the First." She gives a slow, contented smile. "Well, isn't that nice. My guess is that if you peel them off the silk, they become real. But let's all breathe real slow and hold the hippogriffs, shall we? Seems to me that one single, well-planned escape attempt is much better than a bunch of cockamamie tries."
OK, at this dramatic juncture I have to sign off for the night. I look forward to seeing what plots you have conjured up once I log in tomorrow!
GM:
On her way back to the cell, Rigel carefully hides the cloth in one clenched fist, balled up tightly. As she walks, she stumbles every now and then, coughing - partly an act, to try and see as much of the prison as she can; and partly not. She's feeling distinctly unwell. As she returns to the cell, Rigel flashes a quick smile to her companions, but she waits until the guards have left before saying anything. Once she's sure they are alone again, she risks a careful whisper. "well, that was quite something - I'm still not sure what it was, but my goodness it was something. It seems we are not as alone and friendless as we might have guessed..."
GM: Rigel sighs; she wasn't expecting an answer but it's still a little disappointing not to get one. Oh well. She looks at the bit of cloth Tiadora passed her. "I suppose this is a clue, or something to help us? Or is there some other help you are offering?"
She's skilled enough at cross-examination, but this isn't a courtroom. Besides, she's really not feeling at her best right now.
Rigel is unperturbed by the dark-haired girl's outburst of anger; if anything, it just makes her nicer. She spreads her arms in a conciliatory fashion, as far as the shackles will allow her, and treats Hel to one of her kindest smiles. "It's true, honey, I'm from the Heartland - if that makes me a 'bumpkin' then so be it. And my goodness yes, on occasion I have enjoyed life - and in a few days we'll both be dead regardless of whether you approve of me or not. This is who I am; I wouldn't know how to be anyone else." "But I didn't mean to give offence, and I'd much prefer to be friends than enemies. Heavens, I think we have enough of those already..." ... When the sergeant enters, she blinks in surprise; and shrinks back slightly, as if in memory of her earlier punishment. It takes her a few seconds to realise what is happening.
GM Phntm888: Rigel's first thought is that the only person likely to visit her is her sister, and she wonders what strings she must have pulled to get permission for the trip. Her surprise when it turns out to be someone she's never met before is hastily concealed as she plays along with the act.
"Well goodness, it's nice to know I have powerful friends! I'm keen on not being burned at the stake, after all... But, well, how are we supposed to escape, Tiadora, honey? Not all of us can charm the guards like that."
@Hel: not that it matters, but for the record only Rigel is the bumpkin; Lu and Jo were sophisticated, urban Matharynites :-) Anyway, time to see what our DM has in store!
Rigel shoots Gallen a friendly - if somewhat doubtful - look as he professes his allegiance to Abadar. "Suit yourself, honey, but the Vaultmaster is no friend of lawbreakers and prisoners. And I mean, gosh, don't tell me you ended up here, in this place, by following Abadar's laws, hm?" She rolls her eyes, and grins at him. "The foundations are in no way corrupt," comes the annoyed and acidic voice of the young woman on the end. "It's the people who execute it, and the laws that are created to let them enact it in whatever way they see fit. Destroying anything that does not agree with you ... well, the Mitrans preach wisdom and goodness, but by no means do they practice tolerance and the right of intellectual freedom - and so long as their parishoners sing praises and fill their coffers, the clergy is as bad as any, letting them do behind the doors of their homes whatever foulness they care to manage." Hel's diatribe earns her a look of good-natured concern: "Why bless your heart, child, aren't you just full of anger... Do you want to tell me about it? I was always a good listener. Besides, it isn't like I'm going anyplace. Yet. And I'd be grateful for a story that takes my mind off things. Sounds to me like you have one." Her tone is warm, encouraging, friendly. Part of being a good barrister is being able to put your client at ease, whatever the circumstances; and Rigel is an excellent barrister.
Rigel can see that the man plans to use them as a means for his own escape, but she doesn't disapprove - quite the contrary, his ambition shows that he's more than just a thug. He can think some, too. She gives him a slow smile: "Well I'm not much of a fighter, Wesh honey, but I can patch you up to keep you in the fight for longer." One dark eye closes in a wink. "So it's in your interest to keep me alive." She sinks back in her chains to rest against the wall behind her, suddenly overcome with a wave of exhaustion. "And we're not alone here, I'll tell you that much for nothing. From the faint noises in the large, stone-enclosed cell next to us, I'd say there is someone or something in there. Surprised you didn't hear it."
“A fellow Heartlander, I see. I’m also curious how one such as yourself ended up in this place. You don’t seem like the kind to commit crimes worthy of sending you here.” Rigel gives a small smile. "Aw, don't people say the nicest things? But looks can be deceiving, honey: I'm a barrister and priestess of the First." She doesn't say the name Asmodeus, not here, not out loud; but it should be obvious who she's referring to. Amalrus looks up, "Rigel? Rigel Quicklingfay? My word, we are in august company then. You are friends with Lucrezzio and Jocaste no? I've attended a few of their soirees but never had the pleasure of meeting you. She cocks one eyebrow mock-flirtatiously at Amalrus when he shows that he's heard of her. "That's me, honey, the one and only... but Lu and Jo aren't here." She allows a small shadow of grief to pass across her face. "They won't be helping anyone any more; and as for how I came to be here, why, that is truly a tale worth the hearing. Are you sitting comfortably, honey? Then I'll begin." "Lu and Jo were pretty wild, even for the fast set they hung out with - there was a core of maybe a dozen of us that they trusted for parties that went beyond the usual." Rigel's face is utterly demure, and she discreetly doesn't mention what 'beyond the usual' entailed - anyone who needs to ask doesn't need to understand. "They had a small estate just outside Ghastenhall, and one weekend they whisked us all away there, no expenses spared." Her dark eyes twinkle. "I would love to tell you what happened there, but I'm blessed if I can recall it myself. All I can tell you is that I woke up in the woods one morning, wearing no more than I was born in, with Lu and Jo either side of me, just the same... only dead. And everyone else... vanished." "Now, I was surely going to beat any murder charges - no weapon, no motive, no witnesses - but unfortunately, they found my pentagram in among the piles of clothing. Gracious heavens, but the prosecutor had fun with that one in court! Still, they couldn't prove it was mine, but all the remaining circumstances looked bad, and there was me, with nothing to do but swear up and down I had no recollection of events. The jury barely had time to drink their coffee before they found me guilty. Blasphemy's the charge, and burning is the penalty. Seems a little extreme to me, but there you are." "And yes, I have had plenty of time to reflect upon the ironies of a barrister getting herself convicted of a capital crime on purely circumstantial evidence. What can I say, honey? The First has a mean sense of humour..." "Speaking of which, I think we should consider how to get out of this place. They say it's never been done before, but that just means we get to be the first. I'm talking about escaping... and bashing a few heads in while we do so. Between the six of us, I think we could manage something. And if we fail, at least we'll die sooner. So what do you say, care to try escaping?" Rigel gives a small shrug, and a sly smile. "I like your way of thinking - and it has to be a better death than burning; I have to confess, I am not keen on going out that way."
That works for me - we are the nation's most notorious villains, after all ^_^
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