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 Mitra and his 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?
"Well, it comes to this, I suppose. Should have known the good times wouldn't last. Might've at least given us some food..."
Robert leans his head back against the stone walls of the cell and allows the past to play through his mind. Parties, dancing, fancy clothes, beautiful lovers, everything was his and nothing had to be paid for.
"Damn that Judge," he mutters in Infernal. "Who had to show him my papers with a legit copy to compare? Would've gotten away if not for that Judge and his eyes!"
Robert keeps his voice low, muttering under his breath more than fully speaking aloud. Slim and apparently once well groomed, the only Mar to his appearance (beyond the rags, dirt, and bruises); his arms appear wasted and weak, with smooth black skin from just behind his fingertips to his elbows. The livid scar of his brand stands out with fresh red edges and thick ropy scar tissue.
Chained with strangers guilty of unknown crimes Stanislav says nothing but sits brooding, letting the pain of his new brand focus his wrath towards those who persecute him so unfairly. If only I could gain a weapon and die fighting, that would at least deny these Mitra loving fools their false sense of justice.
Thinking this almost random thought summons the concept of gods to him. There certainly was no hope in Mitra. That feeble god had not protected the weak from his ploys over the years, and certainly would not, and likely could not help him now. But there was another god. He was not a pious man, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Perhaps if he appealed to this god, offered him his service, he might be granted some chance at justice and revenge; if not in this life then the next.
He knew little of the prince of darkness and was unsure how to appeal to him. Perhaps there was one among the prisoners who would know more. For the first time he begins to take note of his fellow sufferers. Some of them could potentially be useful.
A tall, thin Chelaxian man with a massive scar on his left cheek examines the shackles upon his wrists. Hmm, very well placed. You've got to admire the work of the building at least. Seeing no flaw in the engineering, he decided to look at the rest of the inmates. Seeing another Chelaxian caused him to pause. Another from Cheliax? How interesting. He asked him, "Are you from Cheliax?
A small, thin woman chuckles lightly. Her head is hung down and dirty, tangled hair hangs past her face. Her high-pitched voice has an odd lilting quality to it. "He got caught because of eyes, poppet!" She laughs a little harder this time. "We've seen eyes. Blue ones and brown ones. Green ones, and dead ones. Tried to make some for you, Robbie dearie. Have to try again. They ruined them!" The last is said in sudden spiteful anger. She tugs at her chains, but even with her rage, the attempt is feeble.
"Have to get out to save you, Robbie, and make you whole again!"
Noting the physical attributes of the two Chelaxian men, and the rather obvious insanity of the woman, Robert closes his eyes and tries to wish himself home.
Reality hardly cooperates, though, leaving him cold, hungry, and shackled to a prison cell wall.
"So, cell-mates...what brings you to these parts? Myself, I caused a Judge no small amounts of jealousy with regards my writing talents. Philistine! " he offers in common, trying to sound more confident and stronger than he really is.
"I'm Robert, by the way."
Stanislav nods at the youth hanging near him when asked about his nationality. I am. he confirms somewhat proudly. But you are not, even though you might have been born there. Skin is too dark. Your a mix. Not your fault of course. Maybe a grandparent. Maybe farther back. he muses on the man's genetics as a diversion to his predicament.
Responding to Robert Stanislav offers My crime was to better my station in life and to help out a lady friend in need, while making the city a safer place to live. They should pin a metal on me, but instead the plan to remove my head. Standing and looking more closely at Robert he continues I am Night Watch Commander Stanislav Greymist. They have forgotten to strip my title from me. An oversight I am sure. You will forgive me if I do not offer to shake you hand. he nods at the manacle around his right wrist.
"Ah. A Watch Commander, even. I shudder to think how the guards must gave treated you. I offer you greetings, such as they are. One must not forget civility, even under such conditions. Robert's eyes constantly dart around the room, looking fir threats, opportunity, or anything to change the situation at hand.
"Ah, Commander Greymist. A pleasure to meet you." The woman's tone has changed completely and now seems much more proper. "Always good to meet a military man." She bends slightly at the knees until you realize she's trying to approximate some level of a curtsy, while still being bound in the chains.
"My name is Nadine Laveau. My husband is Samuel Laveau, perhaps you've heard of him? He's a member of one of the regional councils, but we're hoping for perhaps an appointment for him soon." She glances down at her tattered and dirty clothes. "Oh my. My apologies for my appearance. It seems you've caught me at a bad time."
She turns and focuses back on Robert. "What did you say your name was, dearie? Robert? You're not my Robbie..." Her eyes seem to go unfocused for a second. "Robbie? Why is this man claiming to be... Oh of course. Silly me. Robert is a popular name." He refocuses on Robert. "My son's name is Robert too! He's such a good boy. Pleased to meet you, Robert."
Vank sits slumped listening to the others talk for a while and then cocks his head as if listening to someone standing behind him. Mumbles something in goblin over his shoulder.
Turning back to the rest he looks straight at Stanislav and without getting up or looking threatening says in common "You are a commander of the humans? I will give you a choice, help me get out of this place or I kill you here and now."
"Perhaps you failed to recognize the illustrious Watch Commander's position today? He is chained to a wall, in rags, and branded like the rest of us. Threats of violence hardly do us any good now. In fact, you'd truly only be doing the Mitrans a favor, executing a criminal and saving them the money of a headsman."
Robert lets out a short, harsh chuckle.
"No sense helping our captors more than we already have, right?"
"I hate to correct you, Captain Greymist, but both of my parents were Chelaxian by birth and moved here for reasons I know not."
"As for why I'm here, I killed too many nobles that deserved it. It's what they get for mistreating women."
Switching to infernal Vank says to Robert "What do I care if I deprive some human the pleasure of killing him if I get that pleasure?" pausing and switching back to common he continues "You misunderstood me, I said for him to help me escape. He will know things, have heard of other people who escaped and how they did it. He might even know some of our guards and what it will take for them to turn the other way."
"Heard of people escaping Branderscar? That'a a silly notion, Hobgoblin. Branderscar's legend precedes it. This place is inescapable. It's an island with only a single bridge leading out. Besides, people are executed before they have much of a chance. That's why they only put the truly despicable here. Like us. We've done hideous things to be here." She smiles broadly at him.
"But if you boys can find a way out, please don't leave a poor woman behind. I may look dreadful now, but I clean up nice, I promise. And Robbie says I can be useful to you. Besides, He promised he would help me. Asmodeus, I mean. He's going to help me build a body for Robbie."
"I see three options, we try to escape, I kill you all for the fun of it or die trying. I would prefer option one but happy to settle for option two or three." Vank rattles his chains a bit "I don't think I can break these but maybe we can all pull on the same chain at the same time and break it."
"Oh and you don't think that won't send the guards running in? Big, bad Hobgoblin you may be, but I doubt you can withstand a dozen crossbow bolts in you. Not very bright are you?" She tilts her head, looking at him. "What's your name, Hobgoblin? When you name something, you tend to value it more. That's why you name pets."
"Excellent at pulling down idea aren't we. Getting turned into archery target still seems better than waiting here doing nothing. Have you got a better idea?"
She smiles. "I do try for excellence, thank you." The smiles turns to a frown. "However, I don't really have a great idea. There must be a time when the guards are less diligent. Perhaps the night watch. Still, I'm woefully inadequate at slipping these bonds. I might be able to enchant one of the guards, but it won't last for long."
"I was hoping our Commander Greymist might be able to get us out." She turns to look at Stanislav.
"I like the way you think." Vank says grinning "Sounds like my orginal plan. My name is Vank from Stormfist tribe."
"If I could just get my hands on something long and narrow enough to fit in these locks, I could get us loose quick enough. But they were very diligent in their search, and it looks like they keep these cells spotless."
"Like a small bone? I think we could find one of those." Vank will have a look around. Are all the walls made of stone? Is the door wooden or metal or something else? Is there a high barred window or anything?
"Like your original plan? Perhaps. But much less loud." She emphasizes the last word with an exasperated look at Vank.
She cocks her head to one side as if listening. "What's that? Oh yes, of course, honey. No doubt about it." She look back to Vank. "Robbie says you're an ugly savage with no brain. But I'm sure you already knew that." She smiles sweetly at him with no sign to whether she knew how he would take that.
Vank sits slumped listening to the others talk for a while and then cocks his head as if listening to someone standing behind him. Mumbles something in goblin over his shoulder. ** spoiler omitted **
Turning back to the rest he looks straight at Stanislav and without getting up or looking threatening says in common "You are a commander of the humans? I will give you a choice, help me get out of this place or I kill you here and now."
Stanislav tests the reach of his chains. Realizing that he cannot reach the hobgoblin he does not try. Your threats are idle. You can kill no one. You are like a barking dog on a leash. But you should know that you threaten a trained warrior. My profession is killing. If we fight it will not go as you plan.
"I hate to correct you, Captain Greymist, but both of my parents were Chelaxian by birth and moved here for reasons I know not."
"As for why I'm here, I killed too many nobles that deserved it. It's what they get for mistreating women."
Of course they were. I meant no slight. It is only the color of you skin that cause me to ponder. To defend the weak is chivalry and should be no crime. It is likely your conviction is as unjust as mine.
"Ah, Commander Greymist. A pleasure to meet you." The woman's tone has changed completely and now seems much more proper. "Always good to meet a military man." She bends slightly at the knees until you realize she's trying to approximate some level of a curtsy, while still being bound in the chains.
"My name is Nadine Laveau. My husband is Samuel Laveau, perhaps you've heard of him? He's a member of one of the regional councils, but we're hoping for perhaps an appointment for him soon." She glances down at her tattered and dirty clothes. "Oh my. My apologies for my appearance. It seems you've caught me at a bad time."
The pleasure is mine dear lady. If only our circumstances were other than they are I would take and kiss your hand in the proper Chelaxian way. I am sorry to say I do not know your husband, a fault which is surely all mine. I have been pulling the night duty for more than a year now and am not as well versed in the comings and goings of proper people as I once was. But your name is familiar to me. I believe I have read of your sad fate on an official docket. My condolences for all you have lost.
She smiles. "I do try for excellence, thank you." The smiles turns to a frown. "However, I don't really have a great idea. There must be a time when the guards are less diligent. Perhaps the night watch. Still, I'm woefully inadequate at slipping these bonds. I might be able to enchant one of the guards, but it won't last for long."
"I was hoping our Commander Greymist might be able to get us out." She turns to look at Stanislav.
I fear you have it right Lady Laveau. I know of no escapes from Branderscar. I have exhausted my quiver of favors and tricks to avoid arrest until now. At least my death will be clean. I am for the axe. Its a much more pleasant death than being gut shot with crossbow bolts I can assure you. But I fear for you my lady. Surely they plan the pyre for you.
"They'll have to get through me first. Th'AzWaK Zi'ANT! What I wouldn't give for just one lockpick."
Robert sighs as his fellow captives posture and preen.
Always the same...always have to prove they're the biggest, baddest, toughest guy on the block. Subtlety gets such short shrift...
"Hmm. Escape. I didn't think that was an option from Brandenscar. Although I suppose there's a first time for everything."
"It's not, really. Like I said, no one has ever escaped. But it would be delicious to be the first! Besides, he promised! And what good was the promise if I'm just burned here?" Nadine pouts a bit, but her spirits seem to be lifted as Stanislav recognizes her name.
"Oh you are too kind, Commander. My husband would have enjoyed meeting you. He always thought his canals could serve the military well and wanted to work out a special usage of them. Pity, I had to cut his throat. He did buy me nice things. But I knew he was going to take Robbie away again. He bled an awful lot. Stained the Qadiran rug horribly."
The door into the bursts opens as seven men rushes through. Six guards, heavily armed and ready for trouble, led by a fat well-dressed sergeant of the watch. ”Shut your gap!” sergeant Tomas Blackerly yells. He is the man, who branded you and laughed as your skin burned. Right now, though the sergeant seems a little dazed
He stomps into the cell and points to Thomas and says gruffly:
“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.”
With those words Thomas is roughly unchained and escorted out of the room.
You are escorted roughly to a meeting room down the hall [ooc](room 20)[/b] and shoved into a chair. There waiting for you is a hauntingly beautiful woman in an elegant black dress and soft silken veil. She looks as if she is headed to a funeral. Her hair is so platinum as to almost be white and her eyes are a vibrant almost unearthly green. She clearly has been weeping.
“Oh, dearest,” proclaims the unfamiliar woman. “I’m so relieved you’re alive!” She quickly turns to sgt. Blackerly. “Could we please have a moment alone, good sir? For pity’s sake?”
Sgt. Blackerly goes blank for a bit and then quickly agrees. “Of course, my lady. For you,’ tis no problem.”
As soon as the guards leave, Tiadora’s demeanor immediately changes. She drops all pretense of grief or concern. She is immediately all business.
“Have you forgotten me, dearest?” the unexpected visitor says with a smirk, dropping her pretense of grief. “Call me Tiadora. We possess a mutual friend who would like to meet you and your fellow cell-mates. Unfortunately, our friend is unwilling to visit you in your present rather shabby accommodations so it seems you must escape. Don’t be so dour. Just because it’s never been done before is no reason you can’t be the first.”
“If you manage that, cross the moors on the outskirts of town. On the old Moor Road you’ll see a manor house with a single lantern burning in the second story. There our mutual friend waits. That is all I know. He did want me to give you this.”
She takes off her silken veil and wipes away a few fake tears with it.
“Something to remember me by, dearest.” She muses and hands you the veil.
The fine sergeant is under some sort of enchantment.
Tiadora has some sort of power over sergeant Tomas Blackerly.
EDIT: Once again I almost forgot.
A deep rumble almost a laughter interrupts you just before the sergeant bursts through the door. To you right in the heavily fortified cell next to you and ogre looks back at you amused.
Watching Thomas get yanked out by the guards, Robert tries to keep himself as nondescript and unnoticed as possible.
Stanislav notices nothing unusual from the guards, other than what must be a rare visitor to this forsaken place. He does notice the Ogre though. What do you find amusing my large friend? the fighter calls across to the ogre in the adjoining cell.
As Thomas is led from the cell, Nadine snarls at the guards. Then in a mocking tone, she says, "Oh, Maitre d'hotel. I'd like some room service, please. Perhaps a nice soup and roast duck. Post-haste if you would." She follows it up by sticking her tongue out at the Sergeant.
Nadine notices the ogre and she laughs in delight. "Oh, will there be entertainment?" She tries to clap her hands together, but they don't quite reach. "A Hobgoblin and an Ogre. Perhaps a fool's dance and juggling? Oh, Robbie would love that!"
"Like your original plan? Perhaps. But much less loud." She emphasizes the last word with an exasperated look at Vank.
She cocks her head to one side as if listening. "What's that? Oh yes, of course, honey. No doubt about it." She look back to Vank. "Robbie says you're an ugly savage with no brain. But I'm sure you already knew that." She smiles sweetly at him with no sign to whether she knew how he would take that.
"I'm the savage? It's not my people that waste people places like this. I would deal with those that were a threat to my tribe much more nobly than this."
Vank seem distracted again listening to some inaudible noise and then he rattles his chains again. Is there enough movement to cast a spell (with no materal component)?
Turning to the ogre he speaks in giant
Infernal:
Giant:
"You little 'uns scrupling, best laugh for a month." The ogre replies in common with a thick dialect to Stanislav. The ogre looks a bit taken back as Vank speaks.
Robert's comment to Vank leaves the ogre looking between the two a puzzled look passes over his face and the a flash of anger as Robert speaks to him.
Her message delivered, 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 you 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 yours one last time and she briefly gives you a wicked smile.
“Three days,” telepathically echoes in your mind. “Don’t disappoint me, dearest”.
The guards roughly escorts you back into the cell.
The door is kicked open as the guards drags Thomas into the room. Thomas is forcefully showed back in the cell, his arms and legs chained once again. The guards leave a peace settle in the cells.
The silken Veil
This appears to be a fine silk veil of gossamer cloth. Only as it is held and closely inspected can you see small cloth patches of various shapes.
One patch can be detached each round as a move action. Detaching a patch causes it to become an actual item.
This veil contains:
• 2 daggers
• Bullseye lantern (full, lit and shuttered)
• Hempen rope (50-foot coil)
• Sack full of needed spell components (worth less than a 1 gp)
and common clothes in the PCs sizes
• Thieves Tools, Masterwork
• Window (2 ft. by 4 ft., up to 2 ft. deep)
• Potion of cure light wounds
• 100 gold pieces
• Unholy Symbol of Asmodeus (silver)
Note that the window patch will create a window (and therefore
a hole) in a nearby wall. If there are no nearby walls, it simply
turns into a common wooden window frame. It cannot be
placed on a living creature however. Once removed, a patch
cannot be replaced.
Just before leaving the room you notice brown stains in the corner of the room, they are bloodstains. This sparks your memory and you identify the smell that hangs lightly in the room as burned flesh. This room has been used for torture.
Continuing to speak in giant
"I am Vank of the Stormfirst tribe and your help would greatly appricated"
Once back in the cell, Thomas waited for the guards to leave before removing the veil. "Would any of you be interested in looking at this?"
"I would love to, what is it?"
"It's a beautiful silk scarf! Oh, you got us presents!" Nadine smiles.
Since the woman seemed to be the closest one to him, Thomas managed to get the veil over to her. "I get the feeling there is more to it than meets the eye."
Nadine reaches over and takes the veil. "Oh how beautiful. Not really my color, but it's fine work. What's this, there's seems to be some embroidery on it. Hmm, quite odd to find on a piece like this. There's a star, a bag, a bottle, a window, a coil, a lantern, a pyramid of something, and two daggers. Oh and here seems to be lockpicks perhaps?"
She looks at Thomas. "Who gave you such a thing?"
"I know not who she was." Thomas replied truthfully, "Can I have the veil back?"
Nadine shrugs and hands it back. "A beautiful piece though. If you didn't know her, why would she visit you?" He eyes light up. "Ah, perhaps it was one of those women who delight in reforming criminals? Was this a conjugal visit?" She winks at Thomas.
Taking back the veil, he replied, "Unfortunately no."
Looking carefully at the veil, Thomas thought, I wonder. The young rogue began picking at the lockpick patch.
"A strange woman shows up, hands you such an item, and just vanishes again? Yeah, I'd suggest there's more than meets the eye."
"Can anyone determine if its magical?"
"Magic? Oh, of course." She flips her hand almost lazily. "Montre tèt ou." Her eyes flash a bright blue for a moment, and she turns to look at the veil.
Stanislav watches the exchange with curiosity bordering on hope. Visitors are a very rare thing at Branderscar. There are petitions of course. But I have never known one to be granted. What did this fine lady tell you beyond goodby?
The ogre doesn't look convinced by Vank's words, but his attitude improves a bit: "You cheat me, I kill you. Grumblejack wants to get out."
A truly different world flashes before your eyes, one you have seen many times before. Almost everything in you field of vision fades to grey, but the veil flares up. One of the strongest hues of violet you have ever seen baths everything around it.
Thomas as you begin tampering with the fabric the patch starts to come loose at first it only the threads being torn as you expected but as the entire patch come loose it transforms before your eyes into a real set of master worked lock picks, great magic indeed.