Loukas takes in the design on the floor and moves to the door. There he checks for locks, wards, traps, et cetera...

No locks, traps or anything nefarious can be found by the young monk of Volos.

Balthazar stays floating near the ceiling, his new scimitar drawn and all of its power put into defending him.  "I'm ready for that door to open when you are ..."

Once Miroslav gets the silent go ahead from Loukas on the safety of opening the door he does so, slowly and carefully. The oaken door creaks open revealing a hallway about 30 feet long with a door on either side right about in the middle and a door at the end of the hall.

Miroslav steps through and holds up the brazier to illuminate the corridor.

As Miroslav enters the doorway, Loukas follows.

From the door to the right of the hall a voice can be heard speaking in Slavic accented Greek, "Hello? No rushing of winds, you are not Vikhor?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:03, Mon 01 Nov 2010.

A'kos grips his sword tightly and stays near the fore of the party, his jaw clenched as he readies himself for combat.

"Show yourself," he calls out to the voice.

There seems to be a goodly amount of relief in the voice that says, "I cannot, this door is locked. I am a prisoner here but i can show you my hand an arm."

As he speaks a bare but dirty pair of arms jut through the small barred window of the door. "Please get me out of here. I do not know where Vikhor is or how you got past him but I wish to gather my gear and be on my way before he discovers he has intruders."

"Hmph," mutters A'kos looking at the others.  "Not much of a guard to call out to a group of intruders.  Lead on...let's see what kind of mouse Vikhor's traps ensnared."

Loukas moves around Miroslav and towards the cell, "Patience, Yaro. Why don't you tell us how you got yourself captured by Vikhor? You did not attempt to steal a pie, did you?"

As he speaks he looks at the lock on the door and begins to pick it.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:20, Tue 02 Nov 2010.

Yaro peers out from between the bars and smiles as he sees the man working at the lock. He answers his question, "I must admit I am nothing as dramatic as a pie thief. I was traveling with two companions, a a young woman and another man about my age. We were camping at the base of the mountain, marveling at it for two days when we were chased into a cave by a extremely large bear. We found a stairway leading up that the bear could not follow."

Yaro pauses for a moment then continues, "As soon as we reached the top of the staircase and into the open we were hit by a cyclone that must have been Vikhor himself. We woke here in the cell, stripped of our gear. The Djinni visited us a few time, taking my companions on two different occasions. I do not know what happened to them, he claimed he was going to eat them, I can only assume that he did."

He then points to the door across the hall, "There was someone in that cell as well but i have not heard a peep from him in over a week it seems. Please tell you you have dispatched the Djinni!"

Focusing on the lock, Loukus replies, "Quite. We killed the fat bastard. Your debt to us appears to be growing, my friend..."

Glancing over his shoulder, "Stairs? Did we find a stairway before of after the Kainkutho? How did we miss a stairway?

The lock on the door issues a satisfying click and the door pops open on it's own accord.

Yaro is talking about the stairs you all took up after fighting the Kainkutho.

Miroslav had been listening to the young man talk, when he mentions Vikhor eating his companions he cringes slightly remembering how hard he hit the feast table in the main hall. The roasted meat could have been anything.

He walks over and takes a look in the other cell holding up the brazier..."There is a lone man sitting here in the middle of the room. He may be dead, I am not sure I cannot see him breath."

Stepping back from the door and opening it for the former prisoner with an expression that goes from puzzled to impressed, "Wait... Do you mean to say that you managed to dash by the Kainkutho? Impressive, my friend. I am Loukas Ouranus, СТОРОННИК* of Veles."


*Translation: FRIEND;  FOLLOWER;  SUPPORTER;  SYMPATHIZER;  UPHOLDER;  ADHERENT;  BELIEVER;  DEFENDER;  DISCIPLE;  PROPONENT;  PROTAGONIST;  VOTARY;  PARTISAN;  ADVOCATE;  BACKER;  COHORT;  CHAMPION;  BOTTLE-HOLDER -- of all the Russian words I found for "Disciple" this seems to fit the best with Velesian religion. I have no idea how to pronounce this word...
This message was last edited by the player at 15:03, Tue 02 Nov 2010.

Dyanna steps toward the front of the party, near Sir Jean.

The young man comes out of the cell, clad only in the rags of his small clothes, "I am Yaropolk, but you can call me Yaro for short. I am formerly of Novgorod but now I wander where I will."

Loukas wears a cloak of cowhide over simple brown and black robe over a brown tunic. There is a bow and quiver in addition to the pack on his back and a long sword at his side. The final and perhaps most noticeable gear worn are particularly sharp-looking climbing claws at his wrist. Wrapping up his tools and slipping them into a patch on his belt, "Well met, Yaropolk the Wanderer!"

His glance appraising the state of the man's clothes as well as his body he smiles, "I imagine we ought to find you some clothing, eh?"

With a grin and a nod in Dyanna's direction, "She's one to take advantage of a nearly nude lad!"

Miroslav  nods his shaggy head in the direction of Yaro and says..."I am Miroslav, it is good we came down here or you would have likely starved to death."

He points to the other cell and says..."What can you tell us about this one here?"

Then to Loukas..."I think you might as well get started on this lock, if he is not moving the only way we are going to find out anything is by going in."

Miroslav's verbal prod comes before the packet of tools has made it all the way into his pouch and somewhat guiltily Loukas nods affirmatively and moves to pick the other cell's lock.

"You only wish..." murmurs Dyanna, amused.

Her smirk is eloquent in the telling...

Yaro looks at the other cell and says, "I am afraid I cannot tell you much. I have never even seen the person in there but I have heard him chanting or talking in a language I do not understand, possibly Chud but I can't be sure."

He looks down at his state of undress and says, "Hopefully my gear is stored somewhere down here."

Balthazar catches Miroslav's eye and thinking the same thing, starts to feel nauseous.  Grasping his stomach, he tries to shake Yaro's hand, "I'm ... I'm Balthazar.  Um, wait a minute."

Balthazar flies and turns upside down, then empties the contents of his stomach on the ground with a forced upheaval.  He lands and rinses his mouth out with water, then points to the pile of throw-up on the ground and asks, "Is that one of your friends?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:46, Wed 03 Nov 2010.

Picking the lock, Loukas turns with a raised an eyebrow and an expression that indicates distaste and disapproval, "Balthazar, how would Yaro know? He does not appear to have eaten recently himself."

Taking some rations from his pack and handing them to the former prisoner, "Forgive my friend, Yaro, you should have something to eat."

Yaro gladly takes the offered food but before he stuffs it into his face he leans forward to look at the other mans vomit and comments, "I do believe he was taller."