Beneath Deshenekh - D&D 4e dungeon crawl.

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Vay, May 10, 2011.

  1. The eager cried of gulls comes from the docks as the waves lap against the stone quays. In the prison lit torches supplement the scant light coming through the small, barred windows. Here are those convicted or waiting judgement for minor crimes. Theft, minor brawls, disruption of the peace...

    Outside on the stockade a watchman calls the changing of the hour and the heavy bolt of the door slides open.

    The guard who had been dozing in the corner suddenly sits upright as a new prisoner is dragged in. A shapeshifter caught with his paws where they didn't belong. Each arm was held tightly by the gloved hand of men wearing the tabards of the town watch the colored trim identifying them as from the docks district.

    "Finally got you Skinna." the officer at the rear of the procession growled as a cell door was unlocked and the half ork was told to stand back while skinner was unceremoniously dumped in the middle of the cell. "And I'd mind your manners with your new friend, she threw Flitwerk through a wall." the guard chuckled "Or maybe they could be your escape plan because you're not getting out for a long time if I have my way, you chose the wrong house tonight." still chucking he turned and led his men back down the corridor.
  2. "Speaking of which, if you could deliver my apology to whoever owned that wall, I'd be grateful. Not sure it'd mean much, but it'd get a bit off my chest." She smiled, exposing the lower tusks of her heritage. She did certainly look like she could chuck someone through a wall - if they came in sizes larger than her, they'd need a special cell. As it were, she could barely fit on the cot. They had taken her armor and shield, though were gracious enough to allow her to change into her street clothes: she had been very apologetic when she learned that throwing a racist man through a wall was not an action that earned government respect. As it was, she had been occupying herself by weaving her hair into it's usual braid.

    "Skinner, was it?" She looked at the man for a moment, "I suppose that's a play on those stripe tattoos you have," she was unfamiliar with the concept of shifters, and thus mistook his markings for tattoos, "Or did you get them afterwards?" She shrugged in either case, continuing. "My name is Ramona. It doesn't quite get across anything quite as sinister as 'Skinner', but a name's a name." She chuckled a bit, finishing the braid. Heedless to whether he spoke or not, she continued. "This is my first time in jail." She didn't seem all that concerned. "From what the guard said - 'finally got you' - it must be your first time too?"

    She stayed silent for a bit, looking around the cell. "Wish they had let me keep my shield. I understand having to take my hammer away, but my arms feel way too light without them, you know?"
  3. A small, faint voice came from the cell next to Skinner and the female half-orc. It sounded as if it was coming from the stones, but it could be inferred that it wasw coming from the cell next to the pair. The voice was masculine,obviously, but rather high pitched and tinged with a strange accent, similar to what many Tieflings have. It was muffled, perhaps by the bricks, "Do I have a new neighbor, Ramona?" He asked. He apparently knew the half-orc, or at least knew her name.

    The voice belonged to a young man, who had pressed ear and mouth to the side of his cell, so that he could both talk and listen to the discussion of his cellmates. All he knew about them was that one of them was a female warrior - an amazon - and that the other one was named Skinner. He decided that he should introduce himself more properly. He was, afterall a knight, and should be chivalrous, "My name is Cebas Prill," He said, "I'm a Crusader for Pelor. In this jailcell after an unfortunate misunderstanding, hopefully going to be leaving soon. Who are you, Mr. Skinner?" It was a curious, voice, as if the young man actually cared about what was going on in the cell next to him. Probably,because he did. Cebas was always interested in the well-being of others.
  4. As soon as the guard left, Kallen became mumbling to himself. "So, they finally caught Skinner. *Shishishishi..." The robed man stood up straight, his long white hair falling down around his shoulders, a broad grin played across his face, eyes hidden by his bangs. "Well then, I guess it's time to leave this roach motel. What do you think, m'dear?" he asked rhetorically of his companion in captivity. Kallen strolled over to the bars of his cell and peered out. The guard on watch duty was asleep on a stool leaning against the wall roughly 4 feet away, the keys dangling loosely from a clip on his belt. The psion's smile seemed to grow even larger, as the guard suddenly flew from his seat to the bars of his cell. The guard, needless to say, awoke, stunned and confused as to what was happening. Before he could get his bearings, Kallen reached through the bars and grabbed the keys from the guard's belt. "Shishishi...Looky what I got here..." He said, holding up the keys to his freedom up in the dim light. Kallen turned to face the bewildered guard, a look of horror on his face. The guard watched as the prisoner stared him down, then suddenly vanished from sight. Within seconds, he heard the klink of a key in a lock, and watched with abject terror as the door to the cell opened. As it swung open, the psionic controller reappeared standing in the doorway. With a quick tip of his hat, Kallen moved from cell to cell, opening each one in turn as the guard just sat there, unable to grasp just what kind of situation he was in. "Alrighty, ladies and gentlemen, I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend another minute in this place, so those of you who wish to leave, follow me and we shall collect our things and be on our merry way!" Kallen proclaimed with a bit of flourish.

    Behind the Scenes
    Show Spoiler

    * - This is what his laugh sounds like

    First, Kallen used Forceful Push (A free action) to Slide the guard towards him. In order to disappear, Kallen used Memory Hole on the guard, which made Kallen invisible to him until the start of Kallen's next turn.

  5. Skinner ignored the guard's taunts after being thrown in the cell, simply standing and dusting himself off. Despite being stripped to his trousers - they'd even taken his damn boots - he managed to convey a sense of almost haughtiness. Breaking into the homes of the nobility - such as he'd done just a few hours ago - most certainly did not meet with government approval. Not, of course, that Skinner gave a rat's backside what the government approved of, just so long as he didn't get caught. Tonight he'd merely had the ill luck to run into the youngest son of the family in a supposedly empty Nobleman's estate. The guards were markedly quicker in the Upper sections of town. He'd have to remember that.

    He waited through Ramona's rambling, all the while looking completely uninterested despite, in fact, being quite the opposite - she was, in fact, quite fetching, and getting to know a good looking girl, as everyone knows, is NEVER a wasted effort.

    After a moment - and a long, measuring (and somewhat admiring) look - he spoke. "They aren't tattoos," he said in a rough voice that almost came across as a purr, tilting his head and smiling, giving her a good look at both his eyes and his fangs. "And I got my name from a...particular incident...a few years ago. And no, I've never been caught. I've sprung Crane a few times though." He paused, considering. "I wonder if you're related." The last was said in a speculative tone, but clearly not fishing for information. He was about to try and start an actual conversation - not something he'd had much success with outside the Dockyard Boys - when Kallen pulled his escape stunt.

    "Well," he purred, "since I don't relish having my throat slit in my sleep by a certain guard the next time he's got duty....coming, Ramona?"

    Skinner dropped to all fours and seemed to almost blend into the shadows as he slunk out of the open cell and, grabbing the bewildered guard's sap off his belt, cold-cocked him from behind. "Can't leave 'im awake if the rest of you're coming with, now can we?"

    mechanics (open)
    Stealth check at +14 for moving about unnoticed, Thievery check at +10 to get the sap unnoticed ('drawing' it off the guard's belt as a minor action) and then nailing him in the back of the head using Deft Strike for (1d4+5)+1d8 (nonlethal) with backstab. There being no entry for sap (there really should be one), I'm using the 'anything else' entry to determine damage.

    Rolls are as follows: Stealth - 2, total 17; Thievery 16, total 26; attack roll 4, total 9; damage rolls 2 and 3, total damage of 10. The dice are friggin' taunting me.
  6. Ramona shakes her head, "Sorry, Skinner," She shrugs, "What I'm planning to do in this world might require the breaking of laws, but definately not yet. I can't leave without my equipment anyway. The armor was a gift from my aunt Dirge, at the very least. Even if a few sneaks went and got it for me, I wouldn't be able to sneak through. I'd just get you caught again." She rests on the cot, sitting down. "I don't think I was awake when you lot broke out, though. So I wasn't able to call a guard or reveal how you managed to escape. What a pity."

    With a tilt of her head, she winks. "Be careful out there. I think I heard they've been putting magic-users on the payroll. I'm sure you're just fine in combat, but I'be never seen a wizard that's bad at what they do." She does speak through the opposite cell to the paladin on the opposite side, "New neighbor, Cebas - just not for very long." She chuckles, twirling a finger in the air with a 'whoop-de-do' motion. "Guess that means the rest of us won't have to wait through various hearings to get to ours. I consider that pretty win-win."
  7. Celcius had watched with vague disinterest as she watched a new innmate get dragged in. The lead guard, or so Celcius assumed by his garb, taunted the shapeshifter, whom he called Skinner. She had heard a few rumours about Skinner, from him being a pickpocket to an outright thief on the lam. According to the lead guard and the dock guards' uniforms, at least part of these rumours were true. She heard them fling the thief into his cell and chuckle as they walked away.

    Celcius' keen senses picked up two slightly familiar voices, the two chatty prisoners who had been brought in after Celcius herself had. One was a half-orc who always wished the guards hadn't taken away her shield; and the other a Tiefling and a crusader much like herself. Celcius hadn't volunteered much information to them when they had tried to speak with her upon their arrival; indeed, she had rarely opened her mouth outside mealtimes. She had done wrong and had deserved the sentencing she had received, not that she liked being cooped up in a tiny cell with a sex-fiend of a psy-user.

    Celcius had reminisced many times on what she had done to deserve jail time. Perhaps she had gone a little too overboard when catching the thief, blasting the pickpocket who had tried to steal her measly 20 gold. He had picked the wrong wizard to lift from though; her overly keen senses had heard the slight tinkle of metal on metal and had promptly blasted him in the chest at point blank with a magic missile, one of her specialties, though not her favorite, nearly killing the boy. A nearby guard immediately arrested her for attempted murder and overuse of force.

    "So, they finally caught Skinner" a deep voice cackled, snapping Celcius out of her reverie. She felt the mana stir in the air as the man conjured up his psychic abilities and whispered to her "Well then, I guess it's time to leave this roach motel. What do you think, m'dear?" He strode over to the cell bars and psychically stole the keys and unlocked all the cells in turn. After assessing the situation, he spoke "Alrighty, ladies and gentlemen, I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend another minute in this place, so those of you who wish to leave, follow me and we shall collect our things and be on our merry way!"

    Celcius merely watched as the psion lead the prison rioters out, but Crusaders were loyal to their callings. Crusaders followed their orders. Crusaders stayed put when they were sentenced.

    So Celcius stayed put. Like she had been for a month now.

    flashback mechanics (open)
    To get used to combat, I decided to try an encounter.

    NPC thief uses pickpocket, rolls 1d20 (2 +12 thievery + 1 skill focus) for 15 against 21 (20 +1 user level). Fails by 5+
    Celcius notices the thief
    Celcius uses Magic Missile (7 + 5 = 12dmg), knocking the thief out cold.
  8. Zherneboh had very little on his mind while he rested in his cell, occupying a corner of the dank cell. He sat, his legs crossed and his eyes closed, deep in thought. He had only been in jail for a few days, it being a somewhat minor offense: assault. However, he was scheduled for interrogation later that day, he was told. Apparently they though his magical skills we're of some interest to certain parties in the jail. Of course, Zhern would have none of that. The second that cell door opened, he'd be a free man, and he'd love to have someone just try to stop him.

    However, he didn't think breaking himself out was worth it. He had been listening to the conversations of the other cells around him, hearing rather... unsavory types (not like he was one to judge), and they didn't seem the type to take jail time so easily. Patience, he was taught, can bring opportunities lost to haste. He'd wait, hopefully not for long, for one of them to break out and free everyone else. Thus, not incriminating himself any further and securing his freedom. If he left the rest of them to rot... Well, then they wouldn't be able to enjoy their selfish ways for long.

    He opened a weary and shining grey eye as the guards lugged in another fugitive, a rather dangerous one by the sound of it. A Shifter, apparently, by someone else's description of his markings. The rather buxom half-orc woman was his cell mate, he saw, a wry smile on his lips. He remembered why she was brought here, and it made him laugh in his cell. Sending a man through a wall was impressive.

    He kept listening, as one of the other prisoners began to talk of escape. Zhern stood in his cell quietly, thanking his teachings as he often did. He moved to the cell bars, looking towards the guard being manhandled quite quickly. Psy-user, he thought, grinning widely. His cell flew open as the psy-user proclaimed the jailbreak. "Good work." he said, his rather gravely voice sounding down the stone jail. He turned to his quiet cellmate, and at least asked the obvious. "Coming?" he said, walking off to the exit. It felt good to break free of this place. He walked down, looking at the other cells and prisoners, stopping at Ramona's cell. "Hmm. Shame. Would love to have you along." he told Ramona, smiling and walking off towards the psionic and Skinner.
  9. Manox lay on his cot his hands folded under his head and his eyes closed. He was relaxed and at home, perhaps because this wasn't his first time in a cell and perhaps because he had faith he'd be out when he needed to be. He kept one ear open for conversation but beyond that didn't stir. He and his 'friend' had already been room mates for a day, ever since the cleric had been dragged in much in the same spirit as skinner.

    His introduction to Zhern had gone less than smoothly, upon learning he was a cleric the warlock began treating his questions with suspicion but Manox had merely been trying to garner as much knowledge as he could from the practitioner of pacts. And then freedom offered itself in the form of a psion, and Manox immediately sprang to his feet and followed Zhern out of their recently shared home.

    "I'll join you." he said for the first time getting a looks and the owners of the voices "Rather than explain what happened to my cellmate. "He flashed a smile taking in the features and bearing of each of the escapees then at those who remained in their cells pausing on Ramona... he hadn't expected the orcish voice to be owned my someone so... comely.
  10. The last key on the ring unlocks the iron bound door from the cell block to the passage beyond. It is dimly lit with another door similar to the one just unlocked opposite and a much heavier door to the right blocking the corridor. To the left voices are clearly heard. One is that of the officer who spoke to Skinner, the other sounds only half interested in the conversation and is that of another human.

    "I say we just toss a coupe of rats through the bars, most likely what he eats anyway... and nick something from the kitchen for his new friend. Heh heh, I'd really like to see his head through the cell wall."

    "Dunno about that.. she seems pretty placid when we brought her in. Could have snapped my arm of if she tried but she was all quiet, even apologized... Don't think shes as quick to anger as Gragnog...."

    "Look anything with orc in it will snap your neck if you give half a reason. Don't tell me being cooped up in here has removed your sense."

    "All I know is all of them were specifically assigned to those cells. I know you wanted to put Skinner with Gragnog but I had orders and before you ask me again whose, I don't know."

    "Guards going soft if you ask me. Well I'll leave you to your important duty of staring a a brick wall, they'll be waiting for my by the docks."

    Footsteps echo down the corridor from the left and a heavy door closes. Looking that way you see the light of a lantern coming from a small room ahead. The door from the passage to the room is open and on the other side of the room you see the door that has just closed.

    [spoiler='DC 10 perception check for those in the corridoor.] Roll a 20/sided die in the OOC and add your perception skill. If the result is over 10 you hear a feint scratching sound from the room ahead and just make out a shadow in the dim light of someone sitting close to the lantern. He appears to be leaning over something.[/spoiler]
  11. Skinner made a silent motion for the rest of the jailbreakers to wait for him to go first. After all, he was much, much quieter than the rest of them. And he had a sap. And, to be perfectly honest, he'd done this before. Mind, he'd had his gear at the time, but he'd still done it before.

    He padded silently to the door and peeked around the frame. The sound of the jail's Sergeant of the Guard scratching away at his paperwork was clear, but the man could be tricky sometimes, so it didn't hurt to check. Skinner's night vision - he spared himself a moment for an inward grin, people always forgot about his night vision - showed the Sergeant leaning over his desk, although admittedly not as clearly as it could have been on account of the lantern.

    He hefted his stolen sap, eased up behind the Sergeant, and clubbed him across the back of the head with a dull *thud* sound. The sergeant slumped like a marionette with his strings cut, and Skinner just barely caught him by the hair before he bounced his forehead off the table. Which, admittedly, would have been amusing, but it would also have been LOUD. Which is universally decreed by stealthy types like himself to be Not Good.

    Grinning, he padded back to the door to motion his companions forward, before going back to the sergeant's desk and leafing through the paperwork to see if he could find the orders the man'd mentioned.

    Mechanics (open)

    Perception check - 24 = succeeds
    Stealth check - 20 = presumably succeeds, but Skinner has Surprise regardless, allowing him to Sneak Attack
    Attack Roll - Natural 20 = Critical hit. Automatic max damage = 14 (Per Vay, the sap is to be treated as a Club)
  12. Manox moves as quietly as he could once the door was opened and when told the hand back kept his eye on the door on the opposite side of the room in case it started to open. Once the guard was taken care of he joined Skinner in the guard room and moves closer to the door ready to react if anyone came through. "What are you waiting for?" He asked the thief as he shifter through papers on the desk. Lets just get out of here."

    On the desk is a small pile of papers. The one being written on has the neat script of a carefully penned letter, it ends with a large blotch where the pen fell when the guard was struck. Next to it is a transcript which was being copied and reworded having being written word for word as said.

    It is a simple letter from one of the prisoners to his tribe in the wilds explaining that his sentence was almost over and he would be released soon under the term of a one year exile from the city and spoke of his plans of returning to his village.

    The next sheet, to the guard's right is an inventory of prisoners and miscellaneous items. Scribbled in the margin is a note that more blankets will be needed for the prisoners if winter comes early, it seems this man's duties extended beyond armed presence.

    Beneath that is the paper you seek:

    Captain Fargath,

    It has come to my attention that several prisoners will soon be arriving in your wing. I wish for you to place them in block 2 under minimum security. I shall visit them personally late in the night and will expect privacy.

    Below is a list of names and descriptions in alarming detail, the letter bares no name only a seal. Around the outside of the seal, around a stylized crescent moon it the word. "Glatatha."
  13. Kallen followed the other two into the room, a smile still playing across his face, though any who saw new it to be fake and cold as death. "All right gentlemen, grab anything that seems like it would be valuable. Also, keep a lookout for a manifest of our belongings, and a set of keys," the psion announced. "Oh, and keep an eye out for an exit sign, or a sign to the armory. Either one will do, but we must find one or the other, else we'll just get in more trouble when they realize what's happened. Deciding that it would be more fun to help search than to simply command, Kallen began looking through this other guards pockets for a set of keys. While doing so, an idea came to him. "You two," he said to Manox and Skinner. "Care to play dress-up? Because you know, we have two unconscious guards here. I'm thinking we use that to our advantage. Not to mention the fact that there's at least one open cell where we can stick them. Who's with me?"
  14. "Something tells me dressing up as them won't disguise me as well as it would you bunch." he said, walking in and seeing an unconscious guard slumped from a sneak attack by Skinner. He was right, though. He hadn't seen a Tiefling guard on his way in, and it was rather hard to hide his obvious racial features. Horns tend to be a dead giveaway. He watched Skinner's demeanor, since the initial escape from the cells, and he seemed to be rather in control of himself and the situation. He seemed to have experience with this, as logic would dictate. Good, Zhern thought. What better than someone who's escaped before to help them escape now? He himself was admittedly curious to the mess of papers and trash strewn onto the floor (maid must not come down here, he thought) and on the table. A particular memo caught his eye, seemingly from his superiors by the grade of paper and ink. He picked up the paper and immediately looked at it with a bit of apprehension, his name in the memo sticking out to him.

    Paladin Cyrus

    The Tiefing Warlock known as Zherneboh is to be moved to Captain Fargath's wing immediately and his execution delayed indefinitely until I have had a chance to interrogate him myself. Ignore Lord Dogoth's order the the contrary, I have jurisdiction on this matter.

    Lady Glatatha

    Written in small neat print at the bottom is a note to Captain Fargath.

    I follow orders but by Bahamut I will see the infernal one swing


    Zhern looked over to the unconscious guard with a bit less scorn than before. He knew people didn't tolerate warlocks, but he never knew they already had an execution order out for him. They work fast here. "Perhaps we can guise one of us as a prisoner being released, with the rest of the group as armed guards." he mused aloud, surveying the motley crew in the room, trying to think of a way out. It would be better if they got some way through the prison without a full blown alert. If it came to that too early, they could very well get trapped by the guards.
  15. As soon as the group of escapees left, Ramona rose from her cot to shut the cell door, giving it a good jiggle to make sure it was still workable. With a nod of satisfaction, the mass of woman turned, returning to her cot. Laying down with her hands behind her head as a makeshift pillow, she thought of the past... Specifically, a particular bit of advise by her little Uncle: "Never give up an opportunity to avoid jailtime, even if you deserve it". Her mother has hit him afterward.

    Still, she shook her head. It wouldn't have been right to escape jail... Would it? Not like she was the stealthiest girl in the world. It took her a moment or two to come to a choice. With a "screw it", she rose... Looking around a bit, she eventually decided property damage was the most expedient manner of procuring a weapon, taking hold of one of the bars that seemed less-then-stable. With a mighty yank, the bar rent free.

    After giving it an experimental spin, she exited the cell. She grins, looking at the others, "I'm going to go get us an ale... And something less so for Cebas. See you all in an hour or so." With a final wink, she crept out after the others, likely catching up fast as the escapees had not been gone long. When she got there, she'd shrug (sending a ripple of muscle through her shoulders). "Changed my mind. I don't know much about stealth, but if we could get to the armory, I'd be thankful."
  16. Even though most lights were out in this quiet seaside hamlet, one light was guaranteed to almost always be burning. Even at an hour where most residents of the town would be safely asleep in their beds, the Mariner's Haven, the town's local watering hole, still had a few patrons on most nights, usually guardsmen off their shifts or restless sailors. Tonight, however, the place had a special guest in the form of a mercenary.

    Bern Lytner, having just arrived in town earlier today, was taken aback by how clean the place seemed for a bar frequented by sailors. The prison guards, frequently carrying their weapons with them, acted as enough of a deterrent for all but the most besotted individual, so fights within the establishment's walls were all but unheard of. As a result, with fairly regular cleanings, the tables in the bar looked almost as pristine as the day they were made. Couldn't say much for the smell though, due to the patrons' fondness for pipe smoking and the foul aroma of ale, but that was a risk one took when dealing with sailors.

    On this particular night, aside from Bern, there was only a pair of guards in the place. This was unfortunate, as the mercenary was looking for work, and that was seeming hard to come by. He had tried to listen to the guards' banter for any possible leads, but had shied away when one of them glanced in his direction. Overall, this night was looking to be a wash, just like the last few weeks that he'd been going from town to town. Why, in a world like this, were people suddenly able to solve their problems without hiring a sellsword to handle the problems for them?

    So preoccupied was he in his own thoughts that Bern didn't notice the bartender giving him an odd look until he was spoken to. Tall and burly, with closely cropped hair and a stiff posture, he gave off the air of a man who had been in a military organization of some kind. "You gonna actually drink that?" he asked Bern, gesturing at the mug of beer that he'd ordered twenty minutes ago. The mercenary hastily nodded and was about to obligingly take a sip when he noticed a fly in his drink.

    "New one, please," Bern replied, sliding the mug towards the imposing man, who simply picked it up and rolled his eyes. Not that he would have to tolerate his presence for long, Bern thought to himself, seeing as he was leaving in the morning. This town was as dead as the rest, and unless he found something interesting before the night was over, he'd simply wipe the dust of it off of his shoes and move on.

    OOC Mechanics Stuff (open)
    Rolled a 1d20+2 for Perception in the OOC thread and got a 4. Had I been successful, I would have had Bern overhear the guards discussing the new prisoners. Otherwise, actions would have remained unchanged, because Bern doesn't care much about prisoners.
  17. Kallen turned to see the half-orc woman enter just as he was pulling on the trousers of one guards, his ever-present smile just as wide as it had been when he'd first sprung the inmates. "Well, I dare say it's good to have a bit of muscle around should things go sideways as they are wont to do." After fastening the buckle on his new 'borrowed' belt, he looked at Zherne, Manox, and Skinner.

    "Alrighty then. You, tiefling boy, are a bit too...odd shall we say, to pass for a guard. Skinner, you too would probably stand out. But you," the odd man said looking at Manox, "You would fit perfectly. So you're gonna need a set of clothes. I suggest the guard I left back by my cell. Now, the real problem is Skinner. I really really doubt they'd just let us walk you out of here, old boy, even if we're disguised, so we're going to need another set of clothes. There's probably a guard by where ever it is they've got our stuff, so we shouldn't have much trouble there. Time for the plan!" the Psion exclaimed, spinning around to face the newcomer once again.

    "Would my lady be so kind as to take this guard and throw him in a cell with the one Manox will be trading places with? That'd be swell. OK!" Once again Kallen spun around, "Skinner, uh, Horn-head, sorry, don't know your name yet, come with me, no time to loose. We're going to get our accoutrements back. Oh! That reminds me," spinning back around now to face Manox and the half-orc, "You'll need to tell us what gear you had. Oh! And before I forget, if we're not back in 5 minutes, uh...Good luck."
  18. Skinner looked up from his study of the papers, tapping "Glatatha's" missive. "Looks like we got ourselves a patron, if she cares enough to find us," he purred, chuckling, as he carefully folded it and stuck it in the back of his waistband. "Glad ya could join us, Ramona. Now if you'll excuse me..."

    He eased up to the heavy door that lead out of the wing, pressing his ear against it to try and hear anything that may be on the other side, pressing a finger to his lips and hissing for the other escapees to be quiet. "Quiet, Daftie, you want the roamers ta hear ya?" he hissed. He cautiously opened the small window in the door and peeked out just long enough to get an idea of where the guards were before carefully closing it again.

    "A'right, two guards on the palisade, wit' bows, two an' an officer at the gate. Daftie, Mister 'Urry, get yer costumes on. Yer gonna have to get our gear. It's in the guard barracks - first door on the right. Our gear'll have labels on it, an' if it's locked up, you want the key to the right of the big'un on the Sergeant's ring. Ramona, we're gonna give 'em six minutes, then go out an' straight left. You first, boost me an' Horns onta the wall, then we'll haul you up after. Dafty an 'Urry, chuck what ya can over, then use the hook in my gear to climb over y'selves. Gonna have to be quick about the whole deal."
  19. Manox smiled at Ramona as she joined them and after listening to Skinner's plan disappeared back into cell clock. "Hello." he said cheerfully as he passed by the first occupied cell then getting to outside Celsius' cell he began stripping the guard and pulling the uniform over his prison rags. "So tell me." he said casually "Why are you staying when freedom is a corridor away. The shifter has a plan thats going to get us out gear back and everything" he smiled in a friendly and open manner that suggested he was as at ease stealing clothes off of an officer of the law as he would be buying drink in a tavern. Pulling the tabard over himself he picked up the belt and circled it around his waist adjusting it and looking around for anything he may have missed. yet fortunately the only things missing were a sap and a ring of keys.
  20. Ramona nods, telling the group heading for the armory: "There should be a set of Full plate. It's got a real fun look to it, and the name of my Aunt Dirge is carved into the inside of each piece..." What Ramona failed to mention out of her ignorance of the races was that the armor was modeled after a Bael Turath Tiefling design, then modified to fit her. "As well as a metal shield with the symbol of a hammer smashing a tower to bit, and a large hammer with the word 'Mom' written on the grip." She thinks for a moment, "As we'll as a bag full of supplies, 'from all of us' written on the inside of the backpack flap... As well as anything else that makes you think of me." She winks jokingly, kicking up the guard so as not to lean over, the heavy body rising enough for a hand to reach out and grab it.

    Following Manox, she turns towards the cell holding Cebas as Manox stripped the guard. She grins, orcish tusks exposed for all the word to see. "Sorry I forgot to get you something to drink, I forgot what you liked." She leaned on the bars, resting upon it, chest smushing softly as she stated, "Which reminds me... You're a champion of light and justice. They're suffering without you there. I was just outside: darkness and falsehood are rampant. The world needs you." She nods, smiling even as she lied to him to get him out, "Come on, you're better put there than you are in here."