You look up and see an enormous, dark form hovering above you. It has no discernible shape, but it fills you with fright. The thing descends upon you, swirling around you like a fell mist. The mist sweeps you high into the air through black thunderous clouds. You are utterly helpless and a deep feeling of dread fills you to your very marrow. The mist dissipates and you fall back through the clouds, increasing in speed as you plummet towards the black earth…
You start awake in almost complete darkness. You lie on your back on hard, smooth stones, achy and hungry, and parched as well. A damp draft brings with it the faint smell of smoke over the pervasive smell of cold stone and unwashed bodies. You feel as if you have not moved in days, and the cold of the stones has seeped into your bones and joints, making them creaky and reluctant. You do not know where you are or how you got there. There seems to be a large black patch in your memory that you cannot recall. You rub your eyes, and as they slowly adjust, you begin to be able to discern several things about your environment.
"Ug....what happened?" mutters Roger as he awakens. His head pounding, he glances around the room taking stock of his surrounding.
"Wait...where am I?" Last thing I remember was being Landrinor, trying to find more books from Master Long he thinks to himself. His eyes adjusting to the dark, he notices other shapes in the cold stone room, and a single window from which a red light shines.
"Anyone else here awake? Anyone?"
His body aching, Roger stands up and quickly takes stock as best he can, nudging the other shapes cautiously to see if they too are people stuck in this cell. He also keeps an eye out for a door, but its hard for the human to see in the dim light.
And then it hits him. His things are gone! Roger stops from his wanderings and quickly looks around trying to find his lost equipment. But as best as he can tell...all he has are the clothes on his back.
"Crap."
His eyes open, his jaw moves side to side as he feels his skin stretch into place across his face. He lies still again, thinking, Don't move, not just yet. Am I alive, surely I cannot be dead, Sarenrae I have not disappointed you so much? Does my desire to right the wrongs that led to my father's death displease you? My journey to my father's last known whereabouts was nearly at an end. The temple within the great city of Landrinor, here he would speak with those of the church to find out what he should do next. To find out what his father had been doing for Sarenrae, to complete the task and return with his father's body for proper burial. The journey was nearly at an end, the day had been bright, the sun shone its golden yellow on the land below, whilst the blue sky had barely been troubled by the passing puff of white cloud. With my steed under me, it was relaxing not to feel so threatened during the journey through the wilds, so much more pleasant through the civilized coutryside, the farmlands. The road through the orchards outside Landrinor, yes the smell of the blossom, it was the last I can remember. And then THIS! Stay calm, Sarenrae you will not leave me. I will do your bidding. This is but a test of my faith, I will not let you down or I will die trying.
It seemed like hours, yet was probably only minutes when Arvind decided it was safe to try and move and take away the curse of the cold fingers of stone which wrapped themselves around his very being. Slowly, very slowly he raised himself up, sitting with arms taking the weight of his torso, his legs numbly lying on the stone cold floor. He felt like he should sleep some more, but no, he forced himself to look around at the new reality. Other bodies scattered around on the floor. All like him, barely moving, all without anything. There is but one other conscious, he is up and moving around the room. Before all else, Arvind surveys the room, looking for the evil that did this thing.
Once it is clear there is no evil presence, his deep voice carries across the silent room. "Excuse me sir, by the light of Sarenrae do you know where we are? My name is Arvind from the temple at Turingen, and to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?" Arvind, shakes his legs, slowly he stands, his arm outstretched to the stranger, welcoming.
Glancing at the half orc, Roger grinned.
"The name is Roger McCuen, and I honestly have no idea where we are or how I myself got here. All I can say is I feel like a tree fell on me."
Offering a hand to help the half orc up off the ground, Roger looks at some of the other forms on the ground. "I have been trying to wake everyone up but I guess whatever knocked us out is still in full effect with them."
I come awake with a start hearing voices around me in the dark, because the room is so dim I grope around for anything small I can lay my hands on, a rock or stick or the like. If I cannot find anything like that then I will cast light on my belt buckle
I call out "Who is out there? Where am I and why have you brought me here?" as I squint out into the darkness. I wrinkle my nose at the smell in the room and grunt as I realize that some of it is coming from me, I roll my shoulders to work the stiffness from my muscles as I await a reply.
Arvind accepts Roger's hand as he struggles up off the floor, his legs aching as the blood begins to flow. His brain gradually making sense of the signals from his eyes, adjusting to the darkness.
Just as he's about to open his mouth, another body moves and introduces himself, with the same questions that had been in Arvind's mind. "Well sir, those are not answers that I can give." Then suddenly the room bursts into light, causing Arvind to step back and cover his eyes. It seemed his brain was being slow today, sleep still called him, yet he resisted, blinking his eyes to get used to the new conditions.
"Roger, who is that, do you know?"
Kale awakens slowly at first, but then forces himself to sit up once he hears others talking. He groans loudly as his bones protest at the sudden movement, and then lays back down, looking wildly at his surroundings.
Okay, I'm in a room....it's dark...and there's a...window? Thing? Why do I hurt so much? he thinks as he slowly begins to move. Then suddenly, there's light, and Kale winces. He quickly pulls his arms over his eyes and lets out a hiss of air through his teeth.
"Hello?" he reluctantly calls out, cringing at the dryness of his mouth.
In the darkness, the voice of Daemon Son-of-None calls out. Lux!
You see a belt buckle gleaming like a torch through the dark cell. You rub your eyes from the blinding light and a large, dark, stone cell materializes before you. Several others lie on the floor near you. Through a barred window set ten feet high in the wall, you can see the dark sky. Looking around, you are able to see a barred entrance. There are stone benches inset into the walls of the cell. In one corner of the cell is a stinking bucket for use as a chamber pot. A fat, bearded man sits on one of the benches, snoring loudly. Another man with a leather hat and coat snarls at the light and shouts Put that out ye damn fools, you'll bring the guards down on us!
Roger looks over towards the bright sudden light, his eyes quickly adjusting. "I have no idea...excuse me sir with the bright belt buckle but who are you?" Walking over, Roger extends his hand in greeting, noticing that yet another person seems to be waking. He stops, and looks at the two men on the ground, and then looks over to the man in the coat as he speaks.
"Guards? What guards? What is going on here?!"
Walking back over to the two men still on the ground, Roger offers a hand to each. "Need some help standing?"
"Apologies sir, Oblittero Lux!" The light winks out of existence.
Now that I have my bearings I will make my way over to the people that I saw still on the ground and make sure they are ok.
Heal (x4)
As I am checking over the people that are still out I ask the man with the leather hat. "Pardon me sir, But could you tell us by chance where we are since none of us seem to know and perhaps how long these men and myself have been here, since you seem to know more about what is going on here then us?"
Directed at Roger; "I assume you are referring to me as 'sir with the bright belt buckle.' My name is Daemon and I am a healer by trade. Unfortunately I don't seem to have any of my gear or supplies currently. Hopefully we will all find out why we are here and have this all sorted out soon. Also I'd not recommend yelling for the guards just yet the man in the leather hat seems a bit wary of them."
Grinning, Roger nods. "I was indeed referring to you sir. Names Roger!" Still smiling, Roger thrusts out a hand, offering it for a handshake.
"A healer by trade you say? One of those priestly types or just a guy who knows about herbs? As far as guards are concerned I would welcome them to come and bother us. Now that I am awake I doubt they will find me very easy to deal with." Roger finishes, cracking his neck ominously.
"A healer by trade you say? One of those priestly types or just a guy who knows about herbs? As far as guards are concerned I would welcome them to come and bother us. Now that I am awake I doubt they will find me very easy to deal with." Roger finishes, cracking his neck ominously.
"Yes" I say as I continue my work, either not noticing his hand in the dark or ignoring it.
As the light is extinguished, Arvind once more peers through his fingers as he looks around the room. "A cell! We are prisoners, but who is our gaoller?" He turns towards Daemon, watching him tend to unconscious bodies on the floor. "Can I be of help, Daemon Healer, though I am not skilled in healing like many I left back at the temple? I am Arvind of Turingen."
Arvind scans the rest of the room, resting his eyes on the man with the leather hat. "Please help us sir, if you can answer the questions posed by Daemon here? And sorry, I didn't catch your name, mines Arvind?"
Moving away from the taciturn Daemon, Roger goes over to the door to see if there are bars he can look out of. Another one of those silent types. Bah, he thinks to himself as he checks out the door.
Perception Check
The voices of several other men finally cause Voem, who had been laying on his back, to slowly open his eyes to the darkness. Working against the stiffness in his muscles, he moves his elbows behind him to lift his upper body into the sitting position. " H-hello..? " Voem says into the darkness, only able to make out a small source of light coming from the ceiling. Nearly falling over in the process, Voem works his way to his feet, trying in vain to see where the voices he heard were coming from. "Who's there? Are you friend or foe?"
Looking up briefly from the door, Roger says "I personally am a friend, I think."
"I am friend until I deem it necessary that I must be otherwise." I move over to the most current waker and check him over quickly before helping him to his feet. "My name is Daemon, I am a healer, what is your name?"
"My name is Daemon, I am a healer, what is your name?"
"My name is Voem." The man puts out his hand in the darkness to where the voice came from, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness. "It's nice to meet you, Daemon. Are there others here, with us? I thought I heard another voice."
"Ah, yeah, that would be me..." Kale responds, having kept his arm over his eyes until the light was extinguished. "My name is Kale, uh...I don't think I'm supposed to be here."
The boy slowly moves into a crouching position and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness again.
Roger chuckles a bit at Kale's statement. "I am pretty sure most of us don't belong here. I for one am pretty sure I don't."
@Arvind Grunwald: The man stands and takes off his battered hat, and with a sneering bow, introduces himself. Tybor Ackbough at yer service, but my friends call me Tybor! Sitting back down he slumps into his bench as if he seems very comfortable on it. I’m not sure what you all did to get in; I just woke up a few minutes ago. I might deserve to be in here, but I won’t admit to anythin’… He buries his face in his hands and groans. Heck, I’ve got no clue what happened! I was just, ah…makin’ some sales, then I went to a pub…that one…what is it? Yeah, The Briny Boar! I was all happy an’ me pockets was full of silver! He pats his pockets and turns them inside out, scowling. Then he reaches deep into his coat and pulls out a single golden coin and kisses it before returning it to his innermost pocket. Still gotcha baby! …Yeah so that’s the last I remember, then I woke up here.
@Daemon Sone-of-None: Everyone seems to be alright, no one is harmed, but they all seem to feel the same way. The Halfling, the Half-elf, and a well-dressed human sleep on, unaffected by your prodding and assessments.
Tybor Ackbough shrugs off your hands. I’m fine, thanks, an’ I don’t like people touchin’ me.
The fat man snores loudly and starts awake when you touch him.
Wha! Where! Am I blind!? Who are you!? Where am I!?
Tybor replies to the fat man.
Don’t worry, you’re not blind, it’s just dark, ye fool! You’re in Landrinor, in the finest prison in the land! Don’t go askin’ me how I know…
@Roger McCuen: The door is a grate made of iron bars about an inch thick. There is a sturdy lock and it is held to the wall by heavy hinges bolted into the stone. Nothing in Master Long’s manual has prepared you for this.
Tybor Ackbough laughs at your threats against the guards.
Don’t be a fool, boy; these ain’t the two-bit dummy guards from whatever po-dunk town you come from! An’ don’t go worryin’ ‘bout that door, you’d have better luck beddin’ princess Salomé! Hehehe! *Cough cough*
Militia Veteran (any town or village): Your first job was serving in a civilian militia in your home town. Skills learned through daily drilling and protecting your fellow townsfolk gave you special insight into military life. Select one of the following skills: Profession (soldier), Ride, or Survival. You gain a +1 trait bonus on that skill, and it is always a class skill for you.
Connor opens his eyes to an unpleasantly bright light, which is extinguished at the request of a lardish man who says he's just woken from a drunken slumber. There seem to be a number of people in this room... a cell. An involuntary grunt escapes as Connor tries to move and finds it more difficult than he expected.
The cold of the room and the floor fade to the back of his mind as he tries to remember how he got here.
"Hello Kale," he says, responding to the boy's introduction. "I am Connor. How long have we been here? I don't remember..."
He notices a bright red light coming in through the window, high on the wall.
"What's going on out there?"
"You words are most interesting Tybor Ackbough, though it seems this time your occupation of this place might not be due to your own misdemeanors. It seems we are all in the same boat, for none of us appear to know why we are here, but any help you can give us all, will be gratefully received. At least you are lucky enough to have retained your golden piece, pray tell why is that so important for you? And what know you of the guards in this place?"
The half-orc, raises himself to his full height, looks towards the window and the red ball of fire hanging in the dark sky, before in a deep voice says "Gentlemen, if I have not introduced myself to you, I am Arvind of Turingen. We all appear to have been brought here against our will and for no apparent reason, knowing nothing of what connects us and why we are here? Save that now we are occupants of the great gaol of Landrinor. Surely the only way we can free ourselves is to work with one another to escape this injustice and regain our liberty. For my part, I can but think this is a test of my faith to the dawnflower, for I came to this city on her behalf to discover the circumstances behind my father's death in her service." A slight sob escapes the half-orcs lips, as he continues. "I was but traveling through the orchards just beyond the gates, on my way to the great temple of Landrinor, then I was amongst you trapped here, having lost all I owned save what I wear. I am at your service to aid us regain our freedom."
Prodding at the hinges and bars, Roger quickly realizes that he could not break this door even if he wanted to. "Well, so much for that idea..." he mutters. Glancing over at the now talkative Tybor, Roger grins.
"So you know where we are but like us have no idea how you actually got here? If that's the case why are you afraid of the guards? How do you know we were brought in for doing something wrong and this is not some misunderstanding?"
The fat man snores loudly and starts awake when you touch him.
Wha! Where! Am I blind!? Who are you!? Where am I!?
With most of the conscious people making it known that they are in the same situation as everyone else - not knowing why or how they got there - Voem makes his way slowly to the fat man on the bench. After stepping over the nearly still forms of what appeared to be a half-ling and another human, Voem addresses the recently panicked fat man. "Hello sir," the young man begins calmly. "You appear to be somewhat on edge. Do you know why or by what means you are here?"
@Arvind of Turingen: Tybor jumps in shock and pulls his coat together as if you have seen him in one of his most private moments as he realizes you have seen his treasure. How do you…Hey! Are you an Orc or sumthin’? That’s just my baby, an’ I don’t wanna’ talk about her… he says indignantly. Hehe, injustice? There are plenty o’ things you can do wrong in a city, an’ even more here…you never know who you might offend, right? You don’t do nothin’ without someone noticin’ ye in The City of Eyes! He slumps back into his bench and pulls his leather hat over his own eyes.
@Roger: You see a dim hallway, also made of stone. At the end is a wooden door. An opening in the wall looks as though it leads to a staircase. Tybor Laughs at your question. Hah! Afraid, nah, but I wouldn’t try to take the whole castle with just me willy, mind ye! Ha ha ha! Ohh, I just been in here a few times is all, you know, minor misdemeanors…pinchin’ the wrong people’s precious things an’ pokin’ the wrong people’s daughters! Hahaha! They’ll let me off; they always let old Tybor go…I dunno about you fellas though…
Voem addresses the recently panicked fat man. "Hello sir," the young man begins calmly. "You appear to be somewhat on edge. Do you know why or by what means you are here?"
The fat man groans and gets to his feet, then sits back down again. So I’m in prison? What did I do wrong? I remember…I remember I was closin’ up for the night, and then…and then…I went to bed! Why am I here!? Ohohohhh… The man breaks into soft sobs as well.
Tybor sits up, interested. Now ye say closin’ up? You got an inn or sumthin’? Who are ye?
The man stops sobbing for long enough to answer. I’m Travis Bonthar, proprietor of the Briny Boar! He says proudly but sadly. But I don’t know what’ll happen to my business now…
THE BRINY BOAR! That’s where I was last night! Did you see me? Do you know what happened? Where did I go? Tybor exclaims.
I cant see you dammit! It’s all dark! Who are you? Travis asks, bewildered.
Tybor replies excitedly I’m Tybor, Tybor Ackbough. I’ve got a big leather coat an’ hat? I probably had all kinds of wenches hanging about me, swooning? Recognize me? Okay, maybe the last part wasn’t true, but…
Yes, yes it seems I saw you but I don’t recall seeing you leave… Travis says reflectively.
Damn! Tybor curses.
Hearing all this, Roger abandons his search of the door and hallway and walks over to the men on the benches and the crowd. "Excuse me, Travis is it? If our cell mate Daemon here uses his light ability again, and you can see us, can you confirm if we were all at your Briny Boar last night? Perhaps that can help us find a common link between us at the very least."
Roger then glances over at Daemon. "If he agrees can you use that light trick of your's again by chance?" As he says this, Roger thinks to himself I don't remember staying at a Briny Boar...I wonder...
Hearing all this, Roger abandons his search of the door and hallway and walks over to the men on the benches and the crowd. "Excuse me, Travis is it? If our cell mate Daemon here uses his light ability again, and you can see us, can you confirm if we were all at your Briny Boar last night? Perhaps that can help us find a common link between us at the very least."
Roger then glances over at Daemon. "If he agrees can you use that light trick of your's again by chance?" As he says this, Roger thinks to himself I don't remember staying at a Briny Boar...I wonder...
Travis asks How many are you? It was a rather busy night last night, so I couldn’t be sure...But I could try. What’s this you say about light trick? Some sort of magic? I’m not fond of magic, but I suppose you could…
No need, now. From his bench, Tybor points to the sky outside the window, which has taken on a lighter hue of reddish pink. The sun is rising, and the cell has gone from dark to dim. what's wrong with them? Tybor asks, indicating the bodies of a Halfling and a Human that lie motionless on the floor.
As the cell brightens slightly, Roger comes into more focus. Wearing baggy clothes that allow freedom of movement, his face holds a pair of bright and smiling blue eyes, and his head is covered in short cut red hair. His arms are bare, and obviously well muscled.
"Daybreak eh? Guess we have been in here at least for one evening. Still want to know WHY we are here though.
Walking over to the remaining unconcious folks, Roger starts to prod them with his foot, trying to wake them up. "I have heard of heavy sleepers..."
Spoken quietly, almost to himself.what in the hells was that?
Pulling himself to seated position schmitty takes stock of his surroundings.
Noticing that he's not alone. In one graceful swift movement Schmitty rolls to his feet and moves to whatever he percieves as the most "defensible" position while simultaneously reaching for where he normally keeps his dagger. Finding the dagger absent, he continues to scan the room. His eyes dart wildly as he scans faces of his fellow prisoners for signs of malice and the room for possible escape.
What's going on here? Who are you? What's the meaning of all this?!?!
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't think I was at the Briny Boar last night or ever," Connor says, pulling himself to his feet. "I've never even been in this land before. Last I knew, I was on a boat from Alior. I don't even remember setting foot on dry land. Mr. Bonthar, sir, how far is The Briny Boar from the river?"
Noticing the panicking halfling, Connor checks the room for any threats.
"As far as I can discern, halfling, we are safe for now. None of us has a weapon, and though we are all confused, there is no reason for us to hurt you. What is your name, there?"
Connor extends his hand to the halfling in greeting.
Realizing that everyone is having basically polite conversation Schmitty un-tenses. His expression visibly switches from cold and detached to warm and friendly.
With jubilant showmen ship
Greetings one and all! I am Cousin Schmitty renoun acrobat with the traveling circus.
With this pronouncment schmitty makes a grand flourishing bow
And who might you all be?
edit: Schmitty takes Connors hand and shakes it vigorously, perhaps too vigorously, and hangs on for just a few seconds longer than a standard handshake.
"As I said, my name is Roger. I am not sure what you would call me. A fighter I guess? I specialize in unarmed combat." Roger bows in greeting, his smile warm and friendly. Glancing over at Conner and his comment about being unarmed Roger laughs. "My body is my weapon. The only way I would be unarmed is if I was dead."
"As I said, my name is Roger. I am not sure what you would call me. A fighter I guess? I specialize in unarmed combat." Roger bows in greeting, his smile warm and friendly. Glancing over at Conner and his comment about being unarmed Roger laughs. "My body is my weapon. The only way I would be unarmed is if I was dead."
In that case I would recommend striving never to be "unarmed."
Pleasure to meet you.
"I don't know about the rest of you, but I don't think I was at the Briny Boar last night or ever," Connor says, pulling himself to his feet. "I've never even been in this land before. Last I knew, I was on a boat from Alior. I don't even remember setting foot on dry land. Mr. Bonthar, sir, how far is The Briny Boar from the river?"
Travis Bonthar appears to be fat, but he also seems very strong, and looks as though he has labored hard all through his life. He appears to be of middle age, perhaps forty. He responds to Connor. The Briny Boar? Nowhere near it, son! My tavern is down in the Southern Market near the docks, the river is a mile or more outside the city...An' I'll be damned if I've ever seen you before, either. In fact, I don't think I saw any of you except for Tybor, here... He looks around at the others. Ah! But wait, who's this on the floor? He says, pointing to the slumbering human. I seem to remember him from somewhere...He might be a performer...Hrmm..I dont know, I just don't know... He sits back down on the bench wearily.
Though Tybor sits slumped in his bench with his hat still drawn over his eyes, you can tell that he is lanky, and he looks quick. His leather coat and hat are old, well worn, and stained with oils and other unknown substances. You can tell that he pays very close attention to his surroundings.
Roger chuckles at Schmitty's statement. "That is a goal in my life yes." Upon hearing Travis speak, Roger frowns. "Well there goes that theory. Should we just wait for the guard then? Or what?" Roger sits down on one of the benchs and sighs deeply. How on earth did I get into the mess, whatever this mess is...
Ah! But wait, who's this on the floor? I seem to remember him from somewhere...He might be a performer...Hrmm..I dont know, I just don't know...[/b] He sits back down on the bench wearily.
Edit: regardless Schmitty is going to assume he's refering to him, completly ignoring the fact that he's pointing at someone else.
You are correct, Sir. I am ... well was anyway, with the Gabberski Travling circus. They were set up outside the city for the last few months. When they went on I declined to join them. I've actually been here less than a day. Last thing I remember I was looking for an inn to rest for the night. To the best of my recollection I never found it.
scanning the bars of the cell and of the window schmitty considers if he has even the slightest chance of fitting through them. He's quite practiced at the art of squeezing through tight spaces.
Perception:
I allowed all the talking to go on around me as I finish checking over the people that were still unconscious. After I finish, and there is a break in the conversation around me, I stand.
"No one seems to be wounded in the slightest, just stiff from spending time asleep on the cold floor. Though this one," I point to the still prone form on the floor, "seems disinclined to wake he should be coming to soon since we all have already awakened."
"I believe we should turn our attention to facilitating our escape now, or at least figuring out why our captors think we should be here so we can prove our innocence. Sitting around speculating will not get us anywhere."
I make my way over to the door and inspect it. Waiting to hear if anyone has formulated any ideas while I was checking over everyone.
perception
Kale sighs and finally stands, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know about you guys, but...I think we should probably just wait for a guard to come by. He might be able to tell us why we're here, how we can get out, which one of us is the murderer..."
He lets out a slightly nervous cough. "That last one was a joke, by the way..."
Roger nods from his spot on the bench at Daemon. "I took a good hard look at the door and I cannot break it off its hinges nor break the door itself." Pondering for a moment, Roger then adds "I think we should call for a guard and try to find out whats going on. Although," he adds as he looks at Tybor, "our 'friend' over there might not enjoy us calling for the guards. What do you all think?"
At the attempt at joking from Kale, Roger looks over and cocks an eyebrow. "Maybe the wrong time for humor but I give you credit for trying sir. I think the best course is waiting for a guard, but thats me. I have no more interest being stuck in here then any of you I imagine."
Regardless of if you want to talk to the guard I'd at least like to have the option of leaving this place. Personally, I don't recall doing anything that warrants imprisonment. I'm going to look for a plan "B."
Can someone give me a boost up to that window?
Standing back up Roger moves over to the halfling and cups his hands, offering them like a stepping stone. "Put your foot here and I will try to hoist you up."
edit:
"I'll watch for guards," Connor says. "Be careful."
Connor walks over to the doors, rubbing his eyes so he can better see down the hallway.
@Roger: You are able to lift Cousin Schmitty up to the window.
@Cousin Schmitty: The window is set ten feet high in the wall. The bars of the door and window are both made of one-inch iron, and are spaced about four inches apart. Although you are small, it appears as if only a small rodent could escape from this cell. The lock on the door seems to be in good condition.
With Daemon's help, you can almost reach the window, but you must make a short climb. If you succeed, you are able to climb to the window and hold on. If you fail, you fall back down.
@Roger: If Cousin Schmitty fails in his climbing, you may choose to catch him or not.
Tybor snorts audibly at Daemon's comment and the window-peeking gang from under his hat. Ain't no way you're gonna get outta here, healer, may as well jus' wait...If'n you want to try yer luck at escapin'...I guess I'd say the best chance would be when they escort ye out...But I wouldn't try it...This is a city o' diplomats, they like to talk. If you can do that well, that's yer best bet.
"Uh, guys? What do you think will happen if they catch you trying to escape...?"
Kale swallows and looks around, edging around to the doors where Connor is and looking down the hall for approaching guards.
@ Kale It's a prison. They expect you to try to escape. I'm not saying that I'm going to escape, but I at least want to know what my options are.
Climb:
Acrobatics "fall":
Schmitty's grip slips on a wet stone as he tries to climb roger and he starts falling head first on to the hard stone floor. At the last minute he manages to shift his weight and land effectively, but not gracefully, on his feet.
Not my most finest moment, but I saw what I needed to see. Unless one of you can turn into a mouse or melt the bars we're not getting out that way. Without decent tools that lock's not going anywhere either. Perhaps talking is our best and only option.