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"There's only two men left, guarding the forward gatehouse. The warden's one of them spellcaster types. Likes his books, sticks to em. Has a huge library up there and always has his nose in one of those things. Most of the equipment's in the storeroom and the armory. There's a locked chest under my bed, here's the key. Just let me go, it's all yours."
"The...the armory. I tossed it...in there."
As the knife comes close, Blackerly looks up to the villains surrounding him. Seeing the Duergar's face he starts to yell, but then begins to cough up blood before a sound escapes. "What...what do you want?" It's obvious the pain and strain make him a foe at your mercy. Dice:
"Gwah...." Blackerly drops to the ground and begins to bleed out.
As the chose moves forward, Blackerly eventually manages to get to the Warden's tower, opening the door and charging through provokes from Tinn and Fantomos.
A coward, but no fool, Blackerly recalls Tinn's action against the surrendering guard. He strikes at the dhampir as he attempts to get past him with his blade before trying to bolt.
Dice: ;
Suddenly from outside comes Sergeant Blackerly and six of his goons. He comes up to the prison and bellows out while pointing at Tinn, “You there! That’s the scum! Get ‘em unshackled. If any of you makes trouble, they’ll earn a thrashing! Today’s your lucky day, scum. You’ve got a visitor. How you ever warranted such a fine lady is beyond me. Seems she wants to say good-bye. Now step lively. We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.” Sense Motive DC 15: It would appear that Blackerly is under some form of Enchantment effect.
As Null begins to examine the veil, she clasps it back in his hands, "Some favor's are best savored later, when you have a chance to cause others to become jealous, dearest. And I will let our friend know." Tiadora only smiles as she rises and the guards return. Immediately, her demeanor once more changes and she is again a perfect picture of grief. “No, I can’t bear to leave you!” She gives Null a kiss on the cheek. The kiss is ice-cold and feels somehow alien and inhuman.
She looks deep in Tomas’ eyes and says, “Thank you for letting me say good-bye. There’s no need to search my dearest. You are such a good friend for letting me see my dearest one more time.” “Such a good friend,” Tomas repeats his voice almost mechanical. Then the watch sergeant seems to snap out of it and bows politely. “A pleasure, madam,” She leaves unveiled. Her eyes meet Null's one last time and she briefly gives them a wicked smile. “Three days,” telepathically echoes in the PC’s mind. “Don’t disappoint me, dearest”. It takes but a moment to realize the words appeared in your mind in the Infernal tongue. The visitation concluded, Null is taken back to his cell by a cadre of guards and shackled once more. The Veil:
The veil has a variety of patches on it.
Null is brought back to the cells and chained back to the wall, Blackerly in lead. "Now you all don't be thinking nothing. I don't the rest of you will get the fortune of such a visitor. Not that it'll matter in three days." The guards all laugh as they begin to leave the room, discussion of tonights poker game ensuing. "Don't worry, I happened to acquire a new bottle of brandy for tonight. And your money will help pay for it."
Bostarg charges forward, attempting to bring the Seargent down. His strike against the Seargent connects, but the chain links of his mail absorbs the impact of the strike. Grumblejack follows the small gnome up, finally striking a blow to the Seargent. The strike is enough to leave a deep wound in his back as he finally falls to the ground. "Mean little 'un not run quick enough. What now littler 'un want done with him?"
Dice: GJvB GJvB CC
Bostarg charges the Seargent, but his swing goes wide only managing to trip him up slightly. Enough that Grumblejack comes up, squeezing through the doorway. Blackerly turns as the ogre comes up, desparate in his words, "Ogre, wouldn't the gnome there be a better treat? No armor to tear through. A quick morsel with a few more coming from behind." The terror in his eyes is plain. The ogre turns to Bostarg, "Little 'un make Grumblejack sick. Littler 'un free Grumblejack." A wicked grin comes across Grumblejack's face. "What do littler 'un want Grumblejack do?" The Seargent goes pale.
Dice: SB D
Blackerly turns to this new threat, unsure of where to go, decides to try to take down Morthos. "Die you dog, die!" The vicious strike sinks deep into Morthos. Seeing the man drop from his wounds, he proceeds to run towards the doorway. The two dogs move forward, one towards Beatrix and another Haruk. The one charging towards Beatrix fails to find purchase with it's teeth, nor does the one on Haruk.
Dice: B B D1 D1 D1t D2 D2 D2t
Beatrix manages to finish the last guard before he can sink his sword into Morthos. Blackerly's eyes go wide as he watches the four guards cut down before him. Unable to speak, he takes the only reasonable course of acton he can think of in his present state. He bolts. The last remaining guard is dumbfounded at Blackerly's actions. "Seargent, what's going on?" He calls after him.
Five guards come charging into the room, Blackerly commanding them from behind. The first to enter falls under Alazandaru's dagger, dropping to the ground. As this happens, Bostarg's spell falls under Blackerly, the last guard in line rushing to stop him. "Sir, sir, fight off the evil!" The second guard in line takes a viscious attack from Alazandaru but manages to pull through, though Haruk's icy ray finishes him before he makes it to Morthos. The third and fourth continue their advance, but the third falls underneath Morthos's assault, impaled. Grumblejack moves in to try and bash the last guard to enter, but fails to connect. The guard strikes at Morthos, deflecting it form a lethal blow, but the strike appears to be true...
The Screen: Blackerly Will Save Guard Sense Motive GJ Attack GJ Damage Guard attack Guard damage Guard crit confirm Guard crit damage
From around the corner come a small force of guards, led from behind by Sergeant Blackerly himself. "A Prisoner out of his cell? Get him you mangy curs or this won't be the last you hear of it!" With that the guards charge ahead, careful to avoid Bostarg.
Dice:
Blackerly becomes Dazed by Xanos's spell, unable to act during the first round. "Wha...,what's going, huh?" Spoiler:
The door is opened to what is obviously Blackerly's chamber, both from what you were told by Irena, and the fact Blackerly is indeed in this room. He currently stands, in his civilian clothes, pants around his ankles, using the chamber pot. "What's going on here?" he exclaims, turning to meet the newcomers, giving them a rather unpleasant view. He currently stands unarmored, unarmed though his sword is nearby next to the bed, and still slightly inebriated.
DM Stuff: Price Xanos Gwyndolin Cain Kalina Blackerly Grumblejack
Alazandaru snaps the manacles he had been working on. As the snap occurs, luck is on his side and the guards outside the room choose that moment to laugh at some joke made. No peeking now:
When Gwyndolin slips with the lockpick, she scrapes them across the manacles loud enough to be heard in the cellroom...
Spoiler:
...though fortunately for her (and the rest of you), at that particular moment, one of the guards outside must have made a funny comment, as their chuckles drown out the sound.
Bostarg:
Tiadora only smiles as she rises and the guards return. Immediately, her demeanor once more changes and she is again a perfect picture of grief. “No, I can’t bear to leave you!” She gives the PC a kiss on the cheek. The kiss is ice-cold and feels somehow alien and inhuman.
Tomas shakes his head. “I’m afraid it’s time, miss.” She looks deep in Tomas’ eyes and says, “Thank you for letting me say good-bye. There’s no need to search my dearest. You are such a good friend for letting me see my dearest one more time.” “Such a good friend,” Tomas repeats his voice almost mechanical. Then the watch sergeant seems to snap out of it and bows politely. “A pleasure, madam,” She leaves unveiled. Her eyes meet the PCs one last time and she briefly gives them a wicked smile. “Three days,” telepathically echoes in the PC’s mind. “Don’t disappoint me, dearest”. It takes but a moment to realize the words appeared in your mind in the Infernal tongue. The visitation concluded, the PC is taken back to his cell by a cadre of guards and shackled once more.
Bostarg is brought back to the cells and chained back to the wall, Blackerly in lead. "Now you all don't be thinking nothing. I don't the rest of you will get the fortune of such a visitor. Not that it'll matter in three days." The guards all laugh as they begin to leave the room, discussion of tonights poker game ensuing. "Don't worry, I happened to acquire a new bottle of brandy for tonight. And your money will help pay for it." Perception DC 13: As the guards secure Bostarg, two others are overheard discussing Sir Balin, though beyond his name, not much can be heard.
The guards did not appear to hear any noise from Gwyndolin's lockpicking attempt, nor when Kalina attempts to slip out of the manacles. Gwyndolin's lockpicking attempt was easily a success, and she feels confident in attempting to pick the others . Kalina's attempt is ultimately a failure to slip off the manacles. This is a secret:
Alazandaru:
The escape artist check on the manacles is a DC 30, I listed the wrong variable. Hearing Beatrix once again, the two guards come up to the cage, clubs at the ready. "Listen, we hear you louts make a ruckus again, we'll come in there and what have you." He takes the club and runs it across the bars a couple times, as though attempting to rattle you all.
At the sound of Beatrix testing the chains, the guards yell out, "Go ahead and try, you won't be busting out of those anytime soon!" With a chuckle, they turn back to their own conversation. Beatrix:
The manacles are old and quite sturdy, but under your powerful attack, you feel if you had just a bit more force behind it, you could snap them off the wall. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As you all discuss your current circumstances, the door to the cells open, and in strides Seargent Blackerly. He looks perturbed as he walks up to the cell door, 6 guards in tow. “You there! That’s the scum! Get ‘em unshackled. If any of you makes trouble, they’ll earn a thrashing! Or worse." He turns back to Bostarg. "Today’s your lucky day, scum. You’ve got a visitor. How you ever warranted such a fine lady is beyond me. Seems she wants to say good-bye. Now step lively. We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.” The door to the cell is opened and the guards enter, two retrieving Bostarg while the other four watch the rest of you for trouble. Sense Motive DC 25: A sunken look in his eyes, a slight jerk in his motions. It's clear that Blackerly is under the influence of some kind of enchantment.
Gwyndolin:
A test of the bonds tell you with all the skill you currently possess, these manacles, while old, are secure enough to prevent you from slipping out of them. Time passes, and you can hear the sound of the guards switching out from inside your cell, the only signal that evening has begun to approach from this windowless room. Noises can be heard coming from outside the cell. Perception DC 15:
The guards seem to be enjoying themselves. Occasional a word can be heard clearly, such as "Blackerly", "Poker", and "Brandy". If the Perception roll is 20 or higher: The guards have just come from the poker game hosted by Blackerly. They are already slightly inebriated, and have brought more liquor to share during their watch.
Blackerly leads price back into the cells, where she is once again shackled with the others. As him and the guards go to leave, he tosses a glance over at the gagged individual alone in his cell. One of the guards can be heard speaking to him. "Don't like this one bit, Seargent." Blackerly retorts back to him. "Bah, we're plenty good to watch this lot. You just need to lose some gold to me tonight at our game. Got a good bottle of brandy even." The guard cheers up for a moment, then sulks, this time at the apparent prospect of the game. As the group leaves, the two guards go with him, but can be heard laughing and talking just outside the doorway to the cell block.
In the kingdom of Talingarde, many crimes may send you to Branderscar Prison, but the sentence has but one meaning. You are wicked and irredeemable. Each of you received the same greeting when you arrived. You were held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with a runic F. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’ and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the great and eternal love of Iomedae and her chosen mortal vassals. Condemned, you face at best a life of shackles and servitude in the nearby salt mines. Others might await the “gentle” ministrations of the inquisitors so that co-conspirators may be revealed and confessions extracted. Perhaps, some of you will be spared this ordeal. Perhaps instead you have come to Branderscar to face the final judgment. In three days, the executioner arrives and the axe falls or the pyre will be lit. Through fire or steel, your crimes will be answered. You have all been chained together in the same communal cell dressed in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. Manhandled and mistreated, any finery you once possessed is either ruined or long lost. No special treatment has been given any prisoner – male or female, commoner or noble – all of the forsaken are bound and imprisoned together. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain. Your arms are secured to the wall above by manacles. A guard is posted right outside the cell day and night. Little thought is given to long term accommodations. At Branderscar, justice comes swift and sure. Escape seems hopeless. You have all been well searched and every attempt to conceal anything on your person has failed. And if you could somehow slip your bonds and fly out of this prison, where would you go? Who from your former life would want anything to do with the forsaken? Despised, alone and shackled – all that you can do now is await your doom. For each of you, your old life is over. For each of you, hope is a fading memory. For each of you, justice will be fairly meted. And who can blame fair Talingarde after what each of you has done? The six of you recall the events earlier in the day. The prison creaks as you are rolled along. A chill wind whips around your bodies, a telling sign you are near some body of water, though you cannot see it. Your heads have been covered in hoods, your mouths gagged. Iron shackles bind your hands in front of you, attached to the floor of the wagon, while another pair of shackles bind your ankles, keeping your stride short. The only clothing you wear are rags that were provided you shortly after your capture. The wagon stops for a moment, and you hear one of the men guarding you speak to another, though the words themselves escape you. The sound of an opening gate can be heard, then the wagon moves forward, taking you to what can only be your home for the next three days, Branderscar Prison. The wagon stops just a short distance in, the cage heard to be unlocked. The guard can be heard speaking, "Bunch of bloody criminals", "they'll get what's coming to 'em", "keep an eye on 'em". The cage unlocked, rough hands come in and drag the six of you out, sharp tips that can only be swords prodding you onwards. The six march single file, blind and shackled, the only guide the taunts of the guards, as you are lead into what must be a building. Rounding a corner, you feel an opressive heat wash over you as a rough voice calls out, "It would seem we have some new guests. The first thing we do here is your initiation." Several of the guads start to chuckle at his statement. The first of the prisoners is shoved forward. "Take a look boys, this one here is a man of pure evil. He converted not just one, not two, but three loyal Iomadaeans. Let this be a lesson to anyone thinking of going against her. Remember, I stop when you scream." With that Haruk feels a hot brand sink into his arm, digging deep. Haruk holds out for a moment, but the pain overwhelms him and he calls out. The mark in place he is pulled away and moved aside as the next is brought forward. "Our next guest is a deserter. Boy did she fall, took to stealing when they caught her. Remember you lot, this is what happens if you decide to run." Beatrix's arm is pulled forward as he speaks, the brand thrust against her arm. The third in line is brought up next. "This one was saved from a life of piracy by none other than Sir Balin of Karfield. How did he thank him? He killed Sir Balin's nephew, the scum." The brand is used against Alavandru next. The line moves forward and and the fourth is brought in. "High Treason? My, my, my, couldn't you just be happy with the lot life gave you?" Morthos is next to receive the brand. A fifth is brought forward. "Of all things, a gnome! And what did this 'hardened criminal' do? Fraud! Greedy little grubber embezzled a small fortune, he did. If it weren't for the fact that the workers ended up revolting and several people ended up dead, doubt he would even be here. That's his misfortune." The man's mirth at Bostarg's fate did little to stop him from branding him the same. The last man is brought in. "And our last guest just happens to be another pirate. Wasn't quite saved like our other friend though. Strange things happen around this one, I was told. Well, let's just remind him, this is it for him." He is the last to receive the brand. "Take this lot away." The six of you are taken away, led up a flight of stairs. You can hear the sound of a cell opening, where the six of you are led inside and locked up. Your hands are attached to the wall's behind you, and a chain on one wall is looped through your ankles, binding the four of you together. You are able to sit. When all are secured, your masks and gags are removed, your first signs of your new accomodations. As your eyes adjust, you see the six of you are in a cell, though there is a strange, very large doorway off to the right. Several guards stand outside the cell, one of them the man who performed the branding. "My name is Seargent Tomas Blackerly. I'm in charge of these soldiers here, and I plan to make your next three days miserable." With that he turns and leaves the cell, only two guards left by the far doorway.
As you all discuss your current circumstances, the door to the cells open, and in strides Seargent Blackerly. The wound on his face has been healed, quite probably through extraordinary means, though a scar has begun to form in it's place. He looks perturbed as he walks up to the cell door, 6 guards in tow. “You there! That’s the scum! Get ‘em unshackled. If any of you makes trouble, they’ll earn a thrashing! Or worse." As he says this he glares at Gwyndolin, unconsciously touching the scar on his face. He turns back to Price. "Today’s your lucky day, scum. You’ve got a visitor. How you ever came to share blood with such a fine lady is beyond me. Seems she wants to say good-bye. Now step lively. We wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.” As he speaks, he points towards Price. The door to the cell is opened and the guards enter, two retrieving Price while the other four watch the rest of you for trouble. Sense Motive DC 25 (anyone may try):
A sunken look in his eyes, a slight jerk in his motions. It's clear that Blackerly is under the influence of some kind of enchantment. Perception DC 10 (Xanos gets a +2):
A seventh guard had entered with Blackerly and is currently whispering with one of the guards, though you can't make out what they say. Perception DC 20, only if you made the previous one (Xanos gets a +2): Okay, so you can. "Sir Balin just left Branderscar after receiving some letter. It's kind of frightening, all the fuss they're making over 'him', and he just up and goes. What could be so important?" he motions towards the Xanos.
In the kingdom of Talingarde, many crimes may send you to Branderscar Prison, but the sentence has but one meaning. You are wicked and irredeemable. Each of you received the same greeting when you arrived. You were held down by rough hands and branded upon the arm with a runic F. The mark signifies ‘forsaken’ and the painful scar is indelible proof that each of you has betrayed the great and eternal love of Iomedae and her chosen mortal vassals. Condemned, you face at best a life of shackles and servitude in the nearby salt mines. Others might await the “gentle” ministrations of the inquisitors so that co-conspirators may be revealed and confessions extracted. Perhaps, some of you will be spared this ordeal. Perhaps instead you have come to Branderscar to face the final judgment. In three days, the executioner arrives and the axe falls or the pyre will be lit. Through fire or steel, your crimes will be answered. You have all been chained together in the same communal cell dressed in nothing but filthy, tattered rags. Manhandled and mistreated, any finery you once possessed is either ruined or long lost. No special treatment has been given any prisoner – male or female, commoner or noble – all of the forsaken are bound and imprisoned together. Your feet are secured by iron cuffs tethered by one long chain. Your arms are secured to the wall above by manacles. A guard is posted right outside the cell day and night. Little thought is given to long term accommodations. At Branderscar, justice comes swift and sure. Escape seems hopeless. You have all been well searched and every attempt to conceal anything on your person has failed. And if you could somehow slip your bonds and fly out of this prison, where would you go? Who from your former life would want anything to do with the forsaken? Despised, alone and shackled – all that you can do now is await your doom. For each of you, your old life is over. For each of you, hope is a fading memory. For each of you, justice will be fairly meted. And who can blame fair Talingarde after what each of you has done? The four of you recall the events earlier in the day. The prison creaks as you are rolled along. A chill wind whips around your bodies, a telling sign you are near some body of water, though you cannot see it. Your heads have been covered in hoods, your mouths gagged. Iron shackles bind your hands in front of you, attached to the floor of the wagon, while another pair of shackles bind your ankles, keeping your stride short. The only clothing you wear are rags that were provided you shortly after your capture. The wagon stops for a moment, and you hear one of the men guarding you speak to another, though the words themselves escape you. The sound of an opening gate can be heard, then the wagon moves forward, taking you to what can only be your home for the next three days, Branderscar Prison. The wagon stops just a short distance in, the cage heard to be unlocked. The guard can be heard speaking, "Bunch of bloody criminals", "they'll get what's coming to 'em", "keep an eye on 'em". The cage unlocked, rough hands come in and drag the four of you out, sharp tips that can only be swords prodding you onwards. Kalina:
As you are removed from the wagon, a guard whispers in your ear, "I can't wait to make your last few days a living hell. Hoptkiss was my cousin." Gwyndolin:
As you step down, your hand momentarily comes across a dagger. With a practiced hand, you remove it from it's sheathe and hide it inside your sleeve. The four march single file, blind and shackled, the only guide the taunts of the guards, as you are lead into what must be a building. Rounding a corner, you feel an opressive heat wash over you as a rough voice calls out, "It would seem we have some new guests. The first thing we do here is your initiation." Several of the guads start to chuckle at his statement. The first of the prisoners is shoved forward. "Take a look boys, she could've been anyone you see in town. This here person is responsible for killing an Iomedaen priest. " Price's arms are pulled across a table. "Remember, I'll stop when you scream." Unable to see, a scalding pain suddenly runs up her arm as what can only be a brand is forced into it. She holds out as long as able, but eventually the pain takes it's toll and she screams in pain. The mark in place she is pulled away and moved aside as the next is brought forward. "And this was her accomplice in the matter." Cain is pulled forward next, only he feels a light powder dusted across his arm. At first confused, the rash he feels start to build is a sign that this powder is silver. "A little trick to make sure this stays." The brand is forced into his arm next, the pain with the silver powder insufferable. Cain too only holds out so long. As Kalina is brought forth next, she suddenly trips forward as she feels someone push her from behind, easily avoided if she wasn't blind and bound. Sliding into the table, arms outstretched to catch her, the brand comes down before she's even steadied herself. "A deserter this one. Just couldn't make the cut." They do not wait for Kalina to scream to remove the brand, pulled to the side. Gwyndolin is brought forth last. "This pretty little one was caught stealing from the Princess. She gets to learn an honest day's work when sh-" The man's words are cut off as one of the guards suddenly exclaims "She has a knife!" Realizing she has been caught, Gwyndolin strikes out with the blade, hoping to take at least one of them before she goes. She feels the dagger connect with flesh, though she cannot make out the wound, before she is forced to the table. The impact sends the dagger clattering out of her hands and she feels the brand sink into her left shoulder. "That's good enough for you!" the man snarls. "Take this lot away. Damn girl, she cut me." The four of you are taken away, led up a flight of stairs. You can hear the sound of a cell opening, where the four of you are led inside and locked up. Your hands are attached to the wall's behind you, and a chain on one wall is looped through your ankles, binding the four of you together. You are able to sit. When all are secured, your masks and gags are removed, your first signs of your new accomodations. As your eyes adjust, you see the four of you are in a cell, several others around you. Only one other seems to be occupied, though there is a strange, very large doorway off to the right. The only other obvious occupant is a very tall man. Bracers surround both of his hands, chained to a metal girdle, effectively keeping his hands completely bound. A mask covers his face and mouth, preventing speech, though his eyes can still see. His feet are shackled as the rest. Several guards stand outside the cell, one of them the man who performed the branding. He has a fresh scar running across the left side of his face, covering it with a rag to staunch the bleeding. "My name is Seargent Tomas Blackerly. I'm in charge of these soldiers here, and I plan to make your next three days miserable." With that he turns and leaves the cell, only two guards left by the far doorway.
"All right, you villainous dogs. The king has sent a roster of who's going to be visiting our wonderful accomdations for the next 3 days. I hope to make it a 'pleasant' one. So let's see who's on our list? "Well now, ain't this interesting. You see this here piece of parchment? Yea? Well guess what, that's TWO pieces of parchment. Now you all might be wondering why it's important that I've got two pieces of parchment here? Well I don't care what you be wanting. But either way, it's important to the prison. "So let's get this over with. I'll go ahead and read the first parchment." Seargent Blackerly clears his throat before proceeding.
"Well then, it looks like we have our guests for the next few days. I dont' really see what Sir Balin is worried about with your lot, just a bunch of scum waiting for the end. But there you have it, and now I've got business to attend to. "What's that you noisy curs? You want me to read the other parchment as well? I should burn it just to spite you all. But this is good news. Very good news. News to shake you all to the very wretched and blackened core. "You see, Branderscar isn't going to have just the six of you, oh no. It seems there's another group of you that's going to be visiting. Something about 'paralinoleum worlds' or somesuch nonsense those magic types go on about. So not only do I get to punish and push around you lot for 3 days, oh no. But my apparent twin gets to push around a few more of ya. Let's see who those victims get to be, shall we?" With a grin, Seargent Blackerly reads the second parchment.
"I must say, interesting developments. Two groups of criminals brought to the greatest prison in all Talingarde to face their deaths. Their's a poem there, but it don't matter because you all are gonna end up dead it looks like in three days from your arrival. And there's nothing any of you can do about it!" Blackerly turns and walks away, laughing the entire way. The Less RP Version: I have decided to run two separate group through this AP. The first group will consist of:
Morthos "The Malevolent" - Javell DeLeon
The second group will be: Price - stormraven
I will establish the OOC threads in a few minutes from this post and provide links to them in aother post further on so everyone can dot them. To those who didn't make it, I can only say better luck next time. The characters were all great and it was a joy to read them. If I thought I could handle five groups I would, but I don't think I could provide the level of quality your characters would deserve with that many groups. I only hope another recruitment opens up.
"The name's Blackerly, and I'll be your host for your stay in Branderscar. While my men prepare for your arrival, let's get a few things in order. "First off is the Roster. The tab called 'Campaign Info' lists all the criminals we might be seeing. If your name isn't on that list, speak up and we'll make sure Sir Balin comes out to collect you too. Otherwise you might miss the prison wagon here. "Next off are the interrogators. They might want to pull a few more things out of you before you arrive. If they ask, I recommend you be telling. Of course they've gotten most of what we need to make sure your stay here is short lived. But sometimes they just need that extra bit. "Finally, remember that the wagon only has so much room. If you ain't coming here, it's not that you weren't vile enough to make a name for yourself. That's just the way it is. Hopefully the next one will have room for you." |
