Way of the Wicked - This City is Ours (Inactive)

Game Master Nidoran Duran


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Female Human Anti-Paladin 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 12 T 12 FF 10 | CMD 17 | F +4 R +2 W +5 | Init +2 | Perc +3

A tall, dark haired woman paces her cell, stopping every once in a while to look through the bars with her piercing blue eyes. Muscles flex and stretch taut as she tests the bar's strength now and then.

How did I end up here? Where did I fail!?

Slumping against the wall and sliding down, she holds her head in her hands. Slowly, a smile spreads across her face.

"As if these bars could contain my wrath. Executing me like a dog will not stop me," she growls in a barely audible voice, firm with conviction.

She closes her eyes, listening to the faint whispers barely perceived by her woken mind, searching for salvation. Or revenge.


Male Human Wizard 2 AC 11 T 11; FF 10; CMD 12 HP 13; Currently 13; Concentration +6 FORT +2 REFL +1 WILL +4

The human male sits quietly on the cot in his cell, shoulders hunched, his hands clasped together almost in a gesture of supplication.

For those other prisoners who care to observe the lean, handsome male, his prison clothes fit loosely on his body while his hair is disheveled. For all intents and purposes, he appears to be a broken and defeated man.

That is, until you look into his eyes, and see the barely concealed rage burning in his dark brown eyes.


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?


Male Ifrit Master Summoner 2 HP: 20/20 | Init +10 | Per: -1 | AC:16_T:12_FF:14 | F:+2_R:+2_W:+2 | Eidolon HP: 11/11 | Init +1 | Per: +12 | AC:15_T:11_FF:_14 | Claw x2 +4 1d4+3(10ft reach)

Raymond pulls futilely against his shackles, his strength not nearly great enough to break them. Though he fails to do more than bruise his wrists he continues to try while cursing under his breath.

Ignan:
"Son of a b@*@*in' a%%&$#~s... I get outta here I'm guttin' every last one of ya... Gonna let my dogs each your insides while you scream in pain..."

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda Malburne lies chained to a wall wearing nothing but the prison rags that were granted to her. She is a 5"10 woman with an average build but still mildly athletic with blonde hair and blue eyes. She is chained to a wall with the rest of her cell mates looking around the cell with calculating eyes subtly testing the restraints to see how much mobility they grant as well as taking in the surroundings of the cell

As for Branderscar prison she knew of this prison's reputation although never visiting the place herself. Indeed the place was less than she expected it to be. On the way in she observed that the place seems more lightly defended than she expected and from testing the chains could tell there was a severe lack of maintenance. Still the place was defensible considering there was only one bridge to the island and the seas around the island were notoriously rough. That in itself would be an obstacle to overcome. As for the forsaken mark on her arm it was something deserved but also something that would make it more difficult to hide if an escape can be pulled off.

Escape was definitely on her mind at the moment. What would she have to lose in the attempt? Soon she would meet the pyres of the Inquisition and then the burning pit of hell sooner than she would like. Indeed, if an attempt was to be made it should be planned appropriately as only one attempt would be given. Being condemned criminals the guards were likely not above using lethal force to keep them there. As for the others, might as well get to know them early as they all would have to work together to escape.

She looks to the others and the strange Ifrit catches her greatest attention and she tries to identify what he is.

Knowledge Arcana (To identify the Ifrit): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Unfortunately she does not have a clue of what the creature is. Some kind of devil? No they'ed be killed on sight. A Tiefling perhaps? She didn't know. Nonetheless it would be good to set some ground rules early before he starts antagonizing the guards and getting them all in trouble.

She turns a look to the others and says, "We are all condemned men and women in these cells. And such we should avoid making too much of rukus. Struggling will only get us beaten and starved more than we already have. The easier we make it on the guards the less painful it will be for all of us."

Bluff (To fake her intentions): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20

She says this in a normal tone not caring if the guard hears it or not. In fact if he does then he'll be more at ease as it will look like we are bowing in submission.


Female Human Cleric (Hidden Priest, Separatist) of Asmodeus

Megirege sat quietly praying. In essence, it's what she spent the majority of her time doing...when not torching something and exploiting loopholes in local laws. The prayer was in silence.

I know you hear me, Asmodeus. They unlawfully stifle what should be an allowed art of worship devoted to you. You have me here for a reason, and I pray that you see your binding oaths fulfilled this evening.

The fact that rags was the extent of attire, meant her body was exposed more than she normally did. Her scarring fully evident encompassed the entirety of the right side of her body. Her burnt skin was closer to charcoal, and was a color cross between purple, blue, and black, with red etching. Her arms and hands were little more than charcoal in appearance as well.

Where Mitra failed me, you came through, and I will never forget the contract you made with me. Your servant will soon have a new foothold here, one for you, devoted to you, to your worship. Already, there are those who clamor that I was wrongly imprisoned. Soon, the disguised seeds I have planted for you will come to bear fruit.

However, despite that, she seems to have grown fine. At roughly 18 years of age, she seemingly stands 5'4", and looks close to 115 lbs. It's a mere guess however. Her onyx colored hair falls to her bosom, and is cut in a way that allows it to her facial scarring.

Mitra claims to be the God able to do things right, but why them did he exile me from my only remaining home? He allowed me to fall into the hands of despicable men, and as he forsook me, I forsook him. Asmodeus, show me this eve what your ultimate plan is, for your priestess, your representative on this planet, is eager and waiting.

Megirege's physical stature was decidedly average (albeit, still slightly taller than most women her age), but with a figure her closest and most secret congregation said "was a gift from Asmodeus himself". She had many admirers, but none made a public statement, for her temper was said to be legendary, and she could tear someone apart verbally with her knowledge of Asmodeus' teachings if they made even a small misstep.

I know by our contracts that my time isn't up. I pray you would fully use my talents to restore your church to its rightful place in Talingarde. I pray all of this in your name, in honor and worship of you. Let it be done.

As she finished her prayer, her eyes opened. Onyx colored, they had an analytic air to them, as if she's being keenly observant of her surroundings, even when seemingly not paying attention, and she gives off the impression of someone who is incredibly streetwise. Despite this, her facial expressions gave off a skittish and timid look. She naturally looked ready to flee, which made it all the more surprising when others experienced her temper and wrath.

At the current time, unlike the others, she had no despair or anger. She knew Asmodeus' contracts and laws, and she had a personal binding with him, when she was converted during her years as a slave. This wasn't her time, and she knew it. It was a matter of waiting for the divine opportunity to escape that was hard.

"My congregation, do not forget my teachings. He would be most displeased if we strayed from the path. My disciples. Wait patiently for me to find you once more. Continue to do your honored deeds in His name, and, whilst being proud in them, look ever forward to my return."

She made it clear not to refer to any deity by name, using the fact that both Asmodeus and Mitra were Male identified to confound any would be listeners. Her voice on the other hand...was she, in fact, smug under the facade? It wasn't too far fetched.

She addressed Amanda in fact. "Why struggle or submit when you can rest assured knowing that a greater one is watching over you? We were contractually obligated to perish for deeds assumed wrong, yet do not some of us have masses outside who cry foul? He, that the majority worship, does include justice as part of His core doctrines. So, as a result, justice will be given. However, if we but rest in Him, we can take pride in the knowledge that He'll honor us and our undying faith in Him, and that the appropriate form of justice will be discovered, regardless of the means. Death is not the only 'justice' that has existence in this world."

Megirege then went silent for a bit.


Male Human Wizard 2 AC 11 T 11; FF 10; CMD 12 HP 13; Currently 13; Concentration +6 FORT +2 REFL +1 WILL +4

Zinbah looked up briefly as the scarred woman talked briefly of their salvation. As he listened to her, the messages he heard previously returned to his consciousness.

Should I believe in such a savior. What choice have I? Dare I believe this...this woman,a woman from where the flow of falsehood flows deeply? If I wish to have justice served, I must persevere. I must conserve my strength...my magic...for the right moment.

He bows his head down again, and remains silent. He does stretch his senses for anything out of the ordinary.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 9

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda moves closer to Megirege Ahiorebi and wispers, "We both are in service to the Lord of Hell sister. It is not our fate to face the flames of the lightbringer. But drawing attention will only make them pay more attention to us. Trickery is a domain of our lord and thus we must make these guards think they are in control and we are playing by their rules. This will allow for the hidden blade to strike more deeply. We will escape from here for what do we have to lose? One death or another, the Nine Hells shall be our afterlife."


Female Human Cleric (Hidden Priest, Separatist) of Asmodeus

Megirege shook her head, and whispered back. "He may be of tricks, but he's also of pride and contracts. To submit would be adhering to the opposite end of what tenets we uphold, in which we would therefore lose our pride and break the contracts we signed with Him when we entered into a life alongside Him.

Unless you mean to suggest specifically ignoring the important subtexts as they suit us, and disregard the contracts already signed for us and with us by His own hand, but then, that would be blasphemy. Trickery must still adhere to serve our ends without blindly ignoring the other aspects. In pride, trickery; in trickery, pride.

I know not of the contract for your life, that is between Him and you. I do know that blindly fooling others into believing we are submitting is not a way to retain our pride, but lose it. When we are banking our survival on trickery alone instead of applying it in tandem with His contracts with us, then we give our pride away, and thus violate the very foundations of our faith in Him.

The only course of action I see revealed to me here is one of retaining pride in knowing we will be spared until the contracts we signed have all conditions fulfilled. In that, no requirement of appeasing others is required, for required only is that we remember the contract."

Spooky, if I intend on having Megirege quote direct doctrine from the Unholy Text (as she is a priestess), how will we handle that? Do I make it up? Do you have some idea of what it might entail? Etc.?


Making it up works fine. Also, I'm leaving some time for you guys to roleplay until a little after Morossa posts. Once you're all good to go, we'll move on.

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda raises an eyebrow and whispers to Megirege, "You may do as your obligation to the Iron Lord requires. To overcome all who oppose us we need to preserve our strength. There will be a time for retribution but only when we can get free of our bonds and unleash the wrath of hell upon our foes but not until we can make an effective plan of attack."


Female Human Monk(Sensei/Sohei)/2 (HP: 13/13; AC16; FF14; T16; F+4, R+5, W+7; Perc: +11, Init +2)

The average built woman sits at the end of the bench, hands chained behind her, feet manacled as are the other Forsaken. When she looks up, her sunken eyes have dark circles around them. Not that she is not attractive, rather, it appears that she simply does not care how she appears. A closer look reveals a strange scar on her neck, like a puncture wound that never healed correctly.

The woman listens as the others in the cell talk, listening and trying to determine their motives and accents. When they finally finish, she smiles.

This is Branderscar. Nobody has ever escaped. Escape is hopeless. Just sit back and revel in the joy of knowing that you crushed your half-sister's throat in a duel and then laughed as your half-sister's mother broke down seeing the life flee from her worthless daughter's cooling body.

She looks over at Megirege:
I know not what lord you serve. But here in this place all hope is gone. This is where those condemned go to die.

Then she smiles:
So, I hope you all enjoy your stay. I doubt that it will be long for any of us.

After this, she sits back trying to stretch her back and arms against the tight bonds that restrict most movement.

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda says to Morossa, "Justice comes swiftly in Talongarde. Branderscar is more of a jail than a prison considering no one remains here for long. I find it rather ironic that a righteous nation such as Talongarde has such heinous forms of execution for its criminals. Burning at the stake, Drawn and Quartering, Slave labor in the salt mines. Sounds rather diabolical to me."

Amanda looks around the other cells seeing if there is any other occupants in the prison and occasionally looks to the guards, checking their base equipment and sizing up their skill in arms.


Female Human Anti-Paladin 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 12 T 12 FF 10 | CMD 17 | F +4 R +2 W +5 | Init +2 | Perc +3

Lisbeth chuckles, "We do not ask for hope. And we did not come here to die. And I, for one, will not be leashed like Mitra's lap dogs," she growls toward the guard standing outside the cell.

Her eyes wild, she starts scanning the room, until they seem to settle on the far wall, in the direction of the city. As if staring through it, her eyes glitter, "To have seen it burn, and raised anew in His image. Only then would the sheep have been safe. How glorious it would have been to have stood over his corpse! Oh, they'll know fear. If not by my hand, it will be someone else's."

She continues on, almost seeming to be madly raving at the wall, spittle flying, "How did I fail!? Everything was perfect! Everything was in motion! By this time tomorrow, the city would have been ours if He had willed it! Were we weak? No, we were not weak... No...", she calms down, gathering herself.

"Discipline. We lacked discipline. It will be with persistence that we see our goals achieved. Perhaps not us. But our goals nonetheless. I can still hear Him, you know?", she grins wildly. Her eyes flick to Megirege, her voice dropping to a whisper, "He whispers, even now, in the Dark. His will is Iron. His Grip steady. We will not fail again, no."

She slips against her bonds, almost as if tired out from the short conversation, lowering her head, and whispers to herself now, "No, we will not fail again..."


Male Ifrit Master Summoner 2 HP: 20/20 | Init +10 | Per: -1 | AC:16_T:12_FF:14 | F:+2_R:+2_W:+2 | Eidolon HP: 11/11 | Init +1 | Per: +12 | AC:15_T:11_FF:_14 | Claw x2 +4 1d4+3(10ft reach)

Raymond stops his struggles after a few minutes, giving his wrists some time to stop aching so badly.

"I ain't never seen a sadder lot than you all, cryin' 'woe is me' over bein' sent to the mines and comparin' it to an execution. Slave labor ain't a death sentence. It's a chance to break outta this joint and take revenge on the guy who put you in here. And that's what I'm countin' on. I get any freedom of movement and I'll have my crew ready to bust me out faster than the guards could react. It'll be a full on riot before they know what hit 'em."

"But you all keep on bawlin' about your problems. Meantime, I'm workin' on how to fix mine."


Female Human Monk(Sensei/Sohei)/2 (HP: 13/13; AC16; FF14; T16; F+4, R+5, W+7; Perc: +11, Init +2)

Morossa looks at the fiery man:
Salt mines? Perhaps you were mistaken or simply did not commit a crime these fools considered truly heinous. Me, I get to meet the headsman's axe three days hence. And, until then, I am going to watch everything.

With that, Morossa turns her attention to the guards watching over them. How many are there? How attentive? Does it appear that they would be open to conversation? Etc.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda likewise looks around the area as well as inspects the locks on the manacles. She also keeps her eyes out for something that might be used as an improvised lock pick on the floor or surrounding area.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

She notices the locks and chains on these manacles are likely old and rusted. With enough strength they could be broken but that would make too much noise. The lockpick method seems the best way to free her hands although she considers doing it at night where the guards are more inattentive.

She looks Raymond and says, "You misunderstand deviled one. The Salt Mines are an execution of a different sort. They will put you in the most dangerous places of the mine and work you to the bone day in and day out. The lucky end up dying in mining accidents. The unlucky die a slow death either dying from fatigue or choking to death on the rock and salt particles. A condemned criminal is not a citizen so the mine bosses have no reason to treat the workers with any kindness. As for myself, the Pyre is what is intended for me. Heresy is my charge and in this case one that is very true. I am sure all of you are here because the Mitrans found you deserving. If anything the inquisition makes sure the right criminals end up here in Branderscar."


Zinbah:
You perceive nothing out of the ordinary.

Morossa:
The guards seem to be keeping an eye on you, but not an intensely focused one. They occasionally look your way, assuming that the manacles that hold you will do the job just fine. They aren't wrong.

They let you go about talking, as you possess little threat to them in your current position. After some time, a group of six guards, heavily armed and ready for trouble, come into the cell led by a fat and well-dressed sergeant of the watch. You all recognize him as Sergeant Tomas Blackerly, the man who held the brand that marked each of you. His sick laughter and the way his corpulent belly in amusement as your flesh burned is a vivid image none of you are soon to forget. But now, he seems somewhat off.

He points to Amanda and says gruffly, "You there! That's the scum. Get 'er unshackled. If any of you makes trouble, she'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."

His words confuse Amanda, who is expecting nobody in particular to come and bid her farewell, let alone any "fine lady". She doesn't have a chance to say anything, as she's taken out of her manacles and escorted forcefully out of the cell and into a meeting room down the hall. She's pushed into a chair, sitting opposite a hauntingly beautiful woman in an elegant black dress and soft silken veil, dressed like she's heading to a funeral. Her platinum hair is brushed back, vibrant green eyes still watering. From beneath her veil, Amanda can see tear tracks along her cheeks. "Oh dearest, I'm so relieved you're alive!" she proclaims. "Could we please have a moment alone, good sir? For pity's sake?"

Tomas goes blank for a few seconds, and then starts nodding his head. "Of course, my lady. For you, 'tis no problem."" He takes his small group of guards out of the meeting room and leaves the two f them alone.

As soon as the guard leaves,the woman's demeanor immediately changes. She drops all pretense of grief and concern, immediately becoming all business. "Have you forgotten me, dearest?" the unexpected visitor says with a smirk. "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 can 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 awaits. That is all I know." She takes off her silken veil and wipes away a few fake tears. "Something to remember me by, my dearest."

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda does not resist being taken by the guards. She acts quite submissive actually pretending that she's already been broken in to the prison. A visitor? That is a surprise. She knew full well that Branderscar did not allow friends and family to visit the condemned. Such rights were stripped as soon as they arrived here.

Following the guards to the room her eyes turn to Tiadora. She did not recognize her but could tell by her dress and mannerisms that she was not one of the Mitrans. When she is able to convince the guard captain to leave she definitely suspects some magical influence going on.

When they are alone she says, "Ah my dear friend Tiadora. You are quite right. No one has escaped from this prison before. But Branderscar does not quite live up to its outward reputation from what I've seen. I get the feeling this is a test of our abilities to prove our worth. An interesting precaution to be sure as we all were foolish enough to be caught to begin with. Its time that we rectify that mistake."

Amanda suspects that Tiadora might be messenger from another cell of the Asmodean church. They indeed are taking a risk coming here and Asmodeus is not known as a forgiving god. Getting captured in itself was a failure and thus to once again prove herself a useful tool in the hierarchy of hell she would have to accomplish what no one has done before. Escape Branderscar prison.

Amanda takes the veil and takes a look at it briefly and smirks a bit before stuffing it inside her rags out of sight. She looks back to Tiadora and says.

"I am sure you have provided all the aid you're willing to give Lady Tiadora. Know that I scant disappoint you or our benefactor. I wish you well dear Tiadora. We shall meet again without too much delay."


She nods and laughs softly. With her message delivered, she rises and the guards return. Her demeanor is once more the perfect picture of grief. "No, I can't bear to leave you!" She throws her arms around Amanda and plants a kiss on her cheek. Her lips are ice-cold, and there's something alien and inhuman about it.

"I'm afraid it's time, miss," Tomas says, shaking his head.

Tiadora looks deep into Tomas's eyes and says sternly. "Thank you for letting me say good-bye. There is no need to search my dearest. You are such a good friend for letting me see her one more time."

"Such a good friend," he repeats, almost mechnically. Then the watch sergeant seems to snap out of it and bows politely. "A pleasure, madam." She leaves unveiled. Her eyes meet Amanda's one last time as she flashes her a wicked smile.

The words, "Three days," echo telepathically in Amanda's thoughts. "Don't disappoint me, dearest."

With the visitation concluded, Amanda is brought by by the cadre of guards and shackled once more with the others. Lights are dimmed and the door to your block is closed once more. Tomas's group leaves, and only the two stationed at the door now remain.

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda once again plays the role of a broken prisoner but does pay attention to the number of guards in the guard room and the layout of the room she passed through so that when they do make their escape they are not moving blind into the next room.

Amanda is taken back to the cell and is re-chained with the others. She waits until the guards depart and there are none watching and then a wry smile goes across her face. She whispers to the others. "Now that was interesting. It appears someone wishes to see us escape from the worst prison in all of Talonguard. We have been promised sanctuary if we are able to complete our escape from the prison. Are any of you versed in the arcane arts? I know some spells but I am not too learned on magical devices. I have been given something that I suspect may aid us in our escape."


Though it appears to be nothing more than a fine silk veil, closer inspection reveals small patches sewn into the interior, each with a loose thread that can be tugged. Tugging on a patch removes it, but retrieves an item held magically inside the veil. The patches contain:
2 Daggers
Bulseye Lantern (full, lit, and shuttered)
50 feet of Hemp Rope
Sack containing a Spell Components Pouch and a set of common clothes in each of your sizes
Masterwork Thieves' Tools
Window Patch
Potion of Cure Light Wounds
100 gp
Silver Unholy Symbol of Asmodeus

I'm out all day because of holiday plans, so RP if you want and we'll move on tomorrow.


Male Ifrit Master Summoner 2 HP: 20/20 | Init +10 | Per: -1 | AC:16_T:12_FF:14 | F:+2_R:+2_W:+2 | Eidolon HP: 11/11 | Init +1 | Per: +12 | AC:15_T:11_FF:_14 | Claw x2 +4 1d4+3(10ft reach)

Raymond smirks as he's told that he's got an anonymous benefactor.

"Well ain't that somethin'? Hardly in town for more than a couple months and I've already got a secret admirer. I guess there's somebody out there who's either got a discerning eye and good taste, or needs a man of my talents. Considerin' how this place is full of a bunch of goody two-shoes, I'm gonna say someone gots the hots for me."

"Anyway, I can figure out a few bits of magic when it's needed. Especially if we need some reinforcements in a hurry. Kinda my specialty, that."

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda nods to Raymond and says, "I shall have you take a look at it. There are a number of strange stitching in this veil that could possibly do something. But be careful with it. It is delicate fabric."

She subtly reaches into her rags, takes out the veil and passes off the veil to him making sure no guards are looking.

Amanda lacks Spellcraft and Knowledge Arcana. She had FAR more important skills to spend her skill picks on. Eventually I'll end up buying a rank in those skills just so I can use it but I don't expect to be specializing on them when we got 2 arcane casters in the party.


Male Ifrit Master Summoner 2 HP: 20/20 | Init +10 | Per: -1 | AC:16_T:12_FF:14 | F:+2_R:+2_W:+2 | Eidolon HP: 11/11 | Init +1 | Per: +12 | AC:15_T:11_FF:_14 | Claw x2 +4 1d4+3(10ft reach)

Assuming I can cast Detect Magic while I'm in shackles...

Raymond tries to hold the silken veil in front of him as he makes a few small movements with his other hand. He stares attentively at the piece, hoping to discern its qualities.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23 And assuming that 23 is enough to know what the GM has already posted about it...

"Well, It's definitely magical. There's a few patches here that just shine at me, and it looks like they were put on in a hurry. Sloppy work with some loose threads, but I'm guessin' this was this person's first time sneakin' somethin' into a prison. Really surprised the magic didn't get caught. These guards must be new or naive or somethin'."

Raymond hands the veil back to the woman who handed it to him.

"Try pullin' off one of them patches. See if somethin' special's in there."

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda smirks and wispers back, "Our visitor appears to have charmed the captain to allow her inside as well as ovelook the gift that was given to me. So it is a receptacle of objects is it? most interesting."

She examines the patches and sees one that looks like a toolkit. Intregued she pinches the symbol and pulls it out of the veil. It instantly turns into a set of masterwork tools. Amanda smirks and wispers,

"Interesting. An escape kit in a compact veil. Excellent."

She then looks back to the others after hiding the toolkit and the veil and whispers, "Ok here is what I propose. We wait and observe the guard movements and figure out the times when we are left alone. We shall wait until evening when the guards are tired from the day and prone to the drink. At that time I shall pick the locks on our chains and the cell door and ambush the guards before they can get off a warning. There are two daggers in the veil. One can go to the best warrior among us. The other I would request as I do have some combat ability. As for the rest of you, I hope you have some useful spells and magic to help in our task. Once the guards are delt with we shall steal their weapons and equipment. From there we will work our way to make our escape. Now the question is, should we concentrate on escaping or should we kill all the guards and officers and set this prison alight as a show of our power?"


Male Ifrit Master Summoner 2 HP: 20/20 | Init +10 | Per: -1 | AC:16_T:12_FF:14 | F:+2_R:+2_W:+2 | Eidolon HP: 11/11 | Init +1 | Per: +12 | AC:15_T:11_FF:_14 | Claw x2 +4 1d4+3(10ft reach)

"If we burn this place to the ground, we need to make it look like some sorta accident. Maybe start it in the supply room or somethin', you know? Place with a lotta oil, all it takes is one spark and boom. You can't just go and run out laughin' and carryin' the torches, settin' everything on fire as you go. You gotta let the jerks think it was you, but they can never really know."

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda whispers in response, "I doubt we could make a fire look like an accident. Once we escape they will know we escaped eventually and certainly put the blame on us. But what does it matter. One crime or a thousand, the sentence is all the same. We can't really make the punishment any worse for us as we are forsaken. While a silent escape might be prudent, I have a distinct urge to leave our mark on this place before we leave."


Male Human Wizard 2 AC 11 T 11; FF 10; CMD 12 HP 13; Currently 13; Concentration +6 FORT +2 REFL +1 WILL +4

Zinbah looks up as Amanda is taken away to see her visitor, his gaze devoid of emotion. He does not react as she is returned to the cell but when Amanda shows the veil to the others, his interest immediately perks up. "This...is a valuable magical item! I have studied the creation of such items during my schooling...Yes, yes I am a wizard! Don't look so shocked! Whoever created this item must have many resources available to them."

Knowledge Arcana: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19 What does he know of the magic item?

He looks up at Amanda, "I have spells that will be useful for our escape. While I would not mind burning this place to the ground, I would also not mind it if certain of our...adversaries would be allowed the pleasure of experience these fine accomodations as well! We should leave them none the wiser, it would prove an embarrassment to those who have wronged us!"


Female Human Anti-Paladin 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 12 T 12 FF 10 | CMD 17 | F +4 R +2 W +5 | Init +2 | Perc +3

Eyes darting from Amanda to each of the males, she slowly starts to grin again, less manically this time, whispering in the darkness of the cell, "A second chance... Thank you, my Lord! I will not fail again!"

As the items are discussed, her eyes gleam, "I'll take the other dagger until I can find something... heftier. You say we have three days, and what a convenient deadline," she chuckles at her own joke. "We should not rush this, then. We should plan accordingly. Watch the guards, learn their schedules, who is complacent and who is alert, when their shifts end. They're likely the weakest link of this prison, with their trust in their inescapable prison, so we should use that to our advantage."

She looks to Raymond, "Escaping for my revenge beats being drawn and quartered for High Treason. You might prefer the salt mines, though. Are you with us?"

Looking over at Morossa, she inquires of her with a gleam in her eye, "What say you? Will you join us, or shall you enjoy your stay, as short as it may be?"

Finally, she looks to Megirege, and nods to her, "Lead us in prayer, Sister."


Female Human Monk(Sensei/Sohei)/2 (HP: 13/13; AC16; FF14; T16; F+4, R+5, W+7; Perc: +11, Init +2)

When she is addressed, Morossa shrugs:
I suppose it is better than the other option of staying here while you all run off through a swamp.

However, if we are to do this as some of you have said, we will need a plan. Telling the difference between night and day is impossible in here. But, at night the guards will likely be more lax, and the grounds without are likely to have less guards training.

Lets wait and see what it is like for a day. To get their routines down. As some have said, perhaps certain guards more lax than others.

Oh, and as far as the daggers go, I imagine that my fists are just as good.

Sorry for the short post. Only a few minutes free, will try to post again tonight.

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda whispers "Very well. Let us be patient and good little inmates. Do not draw attention to the guards or antagonize them. Make them think they've broke us down while we observe their activities. When the time is right we shall make our move. In the meantime, just to be prepared."

She makes sure no guards are looking at them and takes the daggers out of the veil, hiding one in her rags while passing the other down the line to Lisbeth. She likewise puts the picks out of sight so that only a through search would find them and holds onto the veil hiding it away as well.

She then whispers, "Just in case the circumstances change. They likely will not bother us if we do not make trouble but we don't know if they search the cells with any frequency. We cannot have them take our means of escape."


Female Human Monk(Sensei/Sohei)/2 (HP: 13/13; AC16; FF14; T16; F+4, R+5, W+7; Perc: +11, Init +2)

Morossa grimaces as the items are taken from the veil.
I certainly hope that they do not search us. If any guards come in, I shall try to distract them. I believe it would have been wiser to leave the tools in the veil thing until we needed then. But, since they are out, we shall have to do all within our power to assure that we are not found out.


Female Human Cleric (Hidden Priest, Separatist) of Asmodeus

Megirege was somewhat dissatisfied with what was provided in the veil. Common clothes that served her little purpose, and nothing she could use sans the Unholy Symbol.

As soon as she was able, she'd first acquire clerical vestments (of Mitra preferred) before doing anything, as well as the other little items that were required as part of her profession (offering bag, itself a very carefully disguised bag of holding, unholy text, and a good, fancy, torch as a symbolizing item). Above all else, reacquiring her lost followers was to be tantamount.

But that was after the escape.

She glanced at Lisbah, and responded with a whisper. "Prayer is not something we shall indulge in yet. Our prayers have already been heard, and may not have even been needed, for the Disciplines confirm the binding contracts we have that ultimately determine all our paths. The next step will be worship and praise following success; then for we affirm what has been crafted between ourselves and Him. We pray for contracts to be upheld, and clearly, it has been proven to us already."

She then assumed silence, and payed as little attention and knowledge to the items as possible. If anyone dared look, she wanted to ensure she'd not be incriminated.


Male Ifrit Master Summoner 2 HP: 20/20 | Init +10 | Per: -1 | AC:16_T:12_FF:14 | F:+2_R:+2_W:+2 | Eidolon HP: 11/11 | Init +1 | Per: +12 | AC:15_T:11_FF:_14 | Claw x2 +4 1d4+3(10ft reach)

Raymond gives the woman who addressed him a look that equates to 'you're kidding, right?'

"While I got no doubts I could bust myself outta the salt mines, why should I wait when I got the chance to go now? See, what we got here is what I like to call a partnership of convenience. We're all stuck, we got the same goal, and it'd be easier to pull off the job if we work together, ya know? No point makin' it harder than it has to be. Besides, I got a feeling you might need a man of my talents."


Male Human Wizard 2 AC 11 T 11; FF 10; CMD 12 HP 13; Currently 13; Concentration +6 FORT +2 REFL +1 WILL +4

Zinbah helps himself to the spell component pouch silently, and first starts to stow him under his rags before thinking twice, he secrets them out of sight as well.

After the women have spoken, he curtly replies "Less prayer, more planning. We are all in this together..." as he indicates the chain holding them together, "so I suggest we work on this matter first."

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda whispers to Morossa, "It is better that we have some of these items at hand just in case. As for the lockpicks, I will require them to unlock these chains. The question is should I start working on them now or wait until the time we make our escape?"


Both Zinbah and Raymond are able to accurately identify the Veil of Magical Items and what objects the patches represent.

Shall we move into the evening, then?

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Sounds like a good idea. Seems to be our intention.

Amanda and the rest wait until the evening in the meantime watching the guard shifts closely to see when there is a guard change and when they leave the cell block alone. She also looks into the other cells to see if they are occupied. If indeed they are staging a prison break tonight it is best to free everyone they can. Strength in numbers is what they need.


Female Human Monk(Sensei/Sohei)/2 (HP: 13/13; AC16; FF14; T16; F+4, R+5, W+7; Perc: +11, Init +2)

Morossa also waits patiently. Biding her time to learn the patern of shifts and which guards appear to be the least attentive.


There are five other cells in your block. Four sit completely empty, but one has reinforced bars, and in it sits an orge, looking grimy and unkempt. Ogres are a rare sight on the Isle of Talingarde. The prisoner sits apathetically, moving little and mostly giving beleaguered grunts to the guards when they peek in on his cell from a distance to make sure nothing is amiss with him. When he does speak, you can hear full, logical sentences beneath his very ogrish accent and manner of speech. Though defeated and glum, he does not appear to be an idiot.

Two guards sit outside of the cell block in a room that sits between the stairs from the first floor and the stone bunker you're locked in. Every eight hours, they are releived and replaced with a new set of guards, and every two hours they open the door and enter the cell block to perform a quick patrol and make sure nothing is amiss. The key to all the cells and manacles hang on a peg near the door.

2d4 ⇒ (4, 4) = 8
Oh god wow. Amazing luck, you guys.

At midnight, the shift changes, and the two new guards make their sweep of the room. They both stumble and slur their words, laughing as they push their clubs through the bars and prod the ogre, amusing themselves with the humiliation of the dejected prisoner before leaving you all to your devices.

Anyone trained in Disable Device is able to gleam that the manacles and shackles they're stuck in are very old and ought to have been replaced years ago. The locks on both your bindings and the cell are simple (DC 20), which is nothing to you if you're able to take your time. The manacles in particular are large and heavy enough to make good improvised weapons. The penalty for having your wrists bound is offset by the masterwork quality of your tools.


Female Human Anti-Paladin 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 12 T 12 FF 10 | CMD 17 | F +4 R +2 W +5 | Init +2 | Perc +3

Watching the drunken guards stumble about and leave the cells, Lisbeth whispers, "I would take this as a sign that now is the best time to relieve ourselves of this burden."


Female Human Monk(Sensei/Sohei)/2 (HP: 13/13; AC16; FF14; T16; F+4, R+5, W+7; Perc: +11, Init +2)

Morossa's eyes sparkle as she watches the guards wander about in a drunken stupor.
Yes, this is a sign that apparently not only have no prisoners ever escaped from this outpost, but neither have the stories of mismanagement and drunken guards.

I think that I might enjoy joining you all.

However, one issue has arisen. Some here seem to wish to destroy this place. I ask you why? Why make a spectacle. If we slaughter all within and then escape, none will be the wiser until the next messenger or delivery arrives, and then it will not be reported until that person returns to the nearest military outpost or town garrison. However, if we burn this place, then it is likely some patrol will see the smoke and fire and come to investigate much earlier.

If you wish to burn it, I will not stop you. But our goal is to escape and reach this house with a lantern in the window. I would prefer to get there in one piece.


Female Human Anti-Paladin 1 | HP 13/13 | AC 12 T 12 FF 10 | CMD 17 | F +4 R +2 W +5 | Init +2 | Perc +3

Lisbeth nods, as well, "I see no reason to destroy it, either. For one, it will likely call unnecessary attention to ourselves. For another, with some work...", she looks around appreciatively. "With some work, and better discipline, it will serve my cause well when our plans are completely fulfilled."

She shakes her head out of her reverie, "Regardless, it might be best to kill as few of these guards as possible, as well. An all-out brawl will likely raise an alarm, provoking the same attention that we do not need."

Looking to the ogre in the cell across the way, she grins wickedly, "And we might be able to find an ally or two who can help us, or provide distractions..."

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda after seeing the guards leave she looks around around and listens to make sure no other guards are nearby and listening in.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16

She then gets to lock-picking.

Disable Device: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

She fails to undo the lock with the 1st attempt. She tries again.

Disable Device: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

She is able to unlock the chains on her hands.

With her hands free she can easily take 10 and get an auto 20 with the +2 masterwork pick bonus and unlock everyone else from their chains.


1d20 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 - 2 = 13

The noises made by Amanda's fumble aren't the most subtle of things, but the drunken guards don't hear them, while you can all very clearly hear the hearty laughter from the next room over. She then manages to get everybody unshackled with ease and no accidents.

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda whispers to the others, "Alright, now that we are free from the chains here is the next step. First let us see if we can free that Ogre over there and convince him to help us. Then we draw the guards into an ambush and finish them off quickly. From there we will need to make our escape. The only clear escape route is the front exit so we might have to fight our way out that way. We could try and swim it but the currents around this island are strong and we could easily be pulled under or dashed against the rocks."'

Amanda then moves quietly over to the door of the cell and picks the lock.

Unlock Cell With Disable Device: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28


Amanda manages to undo the lock.

Who's taking what? I'm guessing Zinbah takes the Spell Components Pack and Megirege gets the Unholy Symbol, but the rope, lantern, daggers, potion, and window patch are all unaccounted for.

Dark Archive

Female Human Inquisitor 2 (Infiltrator) HP: 18/18, AC: 17, FF 17, Fort: +3 | Ref: +3 | Will: +6 | Init: +6 | Perception: +7 | Speed: 30 | Code Name: Darla Felhand

Amanda already took one of the daggers and gave one to Lisbeth. The Lockpick Kit, Spell Pouch and Unholy symbol have been removed. The other items will remain in the veil until such a time we need them.

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