In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 873):

"That's certainly worth dying for," Mah'mout laughs, shaking his head slowly from side to side with mirth. "But seriously, what's the job?"

Lyriel attempts to determine the nature of the enchantment on the well, other than just it's school of magic.

[Spellcraft: 21]

[Knowledge (Arcana): 11]

If she cannot ascertain anything by observing, she'll drop a single gold piece down the well.

"The job, as I understand it, involves the construction of magical towers that somehow channel planar energy," Maeve says, still no closer to making a judgment on Mah'mout's sanity.  "Someone with a greater understanding of planar magic will be able to explain in greater detail. My skills tend to lie elsewhere."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Wed 09 Apr 2014.

In reply to Mah'mout (msg # 874):

Team Jailbreak

The conversion between the Matron's men and A'tril -- if you can call an argument a conversation -- escalates quickly, and has become loud enough that words can be made out.

"How could you not know that Dominion officers have been banned from the city proper?! It's been that way for nearly a year!" the speaker all but screams, causing passers by to stop and stare.  Some of their eyes focus upon Maeve and Boreas, but most are centered on A'tril.

"Exceptions were made in this instance," A'tril says, his voice sounding strained as he fumbles with his paperwork. "As you can plainly see in this writ-"

The speaker knocks the papers out of A'tril's hands, sending as many flying into the milky blue waters as to the ground at his feet.

"That's what the Matron thinks of Dominion paperwork," he snarls, drawing a dagger and plunging it into A'tril's abdomen in one smooth motion. "And that's what she thinks of those who hide behind it."

A'tril's eyes go wide with the impact, a hand reflexively falling upon the hilt of the blade now buried in his body. In an instant, he has withdrawn the weapon and slashed it across the speaker's throat.

A cry goes out from the onlookers as the speaker falls to his knees, gagging and drowning on his own blood, and in that moment A'tril runs toward the P.A.R.T.Y.

Every scrap of clothing from his lower chest to his upper thighs is coated in thick red blood, and at least dozen voices behind him are roaring for more.

[Crossroads (Maeve, Boreas, Sazed)]

Team Dilly Dally

After another two minutes or so, Keef pries open this lock as well, and the door swings open to reveal wall after wall of tapestries. Each tapestry depicts a man or a woman, completely naked. There is exactly one example from each gender for each major race, and small letters have been woven into the tapestries over various parts of the body.

A large book entitled "Anatomical Master Key" sits on the room's only table, near which rests the room's only chair.

Lyriel is unable to learn more about the well, but the coin she drops into it vanishes the moment it passes the threshold of the stone opening.

"The more pressing plan though is to run," Maeve observes.

She does precisely that.

In reply to DM (msg # 877):

"This has quickly gone from the best jail break I've been a part of to the worst," Mah'mout quips, inexplicably still smiling as he turns to follow Maeve.

Boreas' eye widens as A'tril runs toward the PARTY, blood streaming from his stomach.  He reaches out a hand, grabbing the dark elf by the arm.

His head whips around to Maeve.  I'll be right back for you all. Hold here.

[Casting <b>Fey Step]

In an instant, A'tril simply disappears.  Boreas is standing with him on top of the nearest building.  An image of the hunter remains on the ground, as if he had never moved.

Get down.  Going to get the others.

He looks back toward the ground, crouching behind an ornate gable made from hundreds of interlocking vines.  His eye glows under the patch, readying to teleport again.

In reply to Mah'mout (msg # 879):

(Autofollow)

"If freedom's worth fighting for, it's worth fleeing for," Sazed says, grinning despite himself in a manner similar to Mah'mout. "I know how sweet it tastes, and how bitter it is to lose it."

He turns to run after Maeve and Mah'mout.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:57, Wed 09 Apr 2014.

Boreas appears just a little ahead and to the side of the running trio of heroes.  He grabs Sazed by the arm.

[Casting Fey Step]

Swing around the other side of the building.  I'll meet you there. he says to Maeve and Mah'mout.  Then, Sazed disappears as both find themselves on the rooftop with A'tril.

[Casting Fey Step]

In reply to Sazed (msg # 881):

Team Jailbreak

A'tril appears to be in shock, and mutely holds his position on the rooftop of the Temple of Ignati as blood creeps down his legs. From Boreas and A'tril's vantage point, they can see a small crowd gathering to watch the Matron's men and women try -- and fail -- to tear apart Boreas's magical duplicate. The speaker whose throat was cut still lays where he fell, still and lifeless.

After Boreas claims Sazed, Maeve and Mah'mout whip around the side of the Temple of Ignati, running across the landscape with reckless abandon.

Less than 20 seconds later, both Maeve and Mah'mout have joined their allies on the roof of Iganti's temple, leaving a very confused crowd of dark elves hurtling down random streets below.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:06, Wed 09 Apr 2014.

Maeve's eyes widen in surprise as Boreas shows off his new teleporting ability, having not been privy to it in the manor.

Sometime when we're not fleeing for our lives, we all really need to have a talk about these powers she thinks, continuing to sprint next to Mah'mout--who appears to be having the time of his life.

Some time in the middle of that thought, she finds herself standing on the roof of a building with the rest of the group.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:07, Wed 09 Apr 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 883):

"Oh, bravo," Mah'mout grins once he realizes where he is, giving a slow clap to Boreas. "Throwing rocks at an adder's den is much more fun when you can avoid the fangs."

Boreas takes to one knee, still a bit disoriented from all the location-swapping.

He takes out a potion (of Cure Moderate) and hands it to A'tril.  We're going to have to start you a tab.  Turning to Mah'mout, he adds, I'd refrain from asking about 'the job' until we're well away from folks like that.  He gestures toward the ground in the general direction of the Matron's Men.

In reply to Mah'mout (msg # 885):

Team Jailbreak

A'tril's face is screwed up in pain as he slowly becomes aware of his surroundings and what happened.

"This... complicates things," he says, touching his stomach tenderly and clenching his teeth as a fresh wave of pain washes over him. "But that was good thinking, Garfunkel. You might have salvaged the plan with that... interesting maneuver."

He pops the cork out of the potion and downs it, sighing with visible relief as its potent properties go to work.

"I'll pay my debts, never fear," he says after a moment, narrowing his eyes at the crowd milling below him. "With interest."

A'tril points to the rooftop two buildings to the left of the one on which the group is perched.

"That should be Cenadora's temple. We'll need to work our way over there -- and, eventually, inside -- if we mean to be in position for our grand escape. Any ideas?"

Maeve takes the opportunity to shuck her Dominion attire and put on a plain tunic; the prisoner transfer completed, her disguise seems to be attracting more attention than its worth to keep it on.

She peers over the side of the building and breathes a sigh of relief as the Matron's men mill about below, none the wiser to their position.

Could we get there via the rooftops and, if so, are you able to get us all there?"

This last bit is directed at Boreas; finding out more about his abilities can wait.

That's...odd.

Lyriel - carefully - dangles a long length of string into the mouth of the well, curious to see objects that pass through can be extracted.

Zuriel's eyes widen in shock at the tapestries. "A'tril has...questionable taste in decor," he says wryly. "This isn't...erotica. This is something else. A study..." Zuriel walks over to the book, flipping through its pages to get a gist of the content.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 890):

Team Dilly Dally

Lyriel dangles a string over the well, dipping it down and pulling it back up. Each time the string passes beneath the threshold, that portion of it vanishes, but it reappears whens he yanks the string back up.

Zuriel flips through the book, settling on the entry that corresponds to the Dwarven Male. Each letter is accompanied by a short description, and seems to depict specific vital areas.

Boreas smiles.  Let me catch my breath for a moment.  His words are slightly muffled by the dominion tabard slipping over his head.  But I can get us across, and even down.  Just say the word.

Zuriel  checks the corresponding diagrams, and a sudden thought hits him. He walks back out to the armory, and finds a suit of dwarven armor. He looks specifically at the areas covering the vital locations illustrated in the book.

I wonder...

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 893):

Team Dilly Dally

Some of the vital points are protected by the armor, but some are not. Choosing another piece of armor and comparing it to the tapestries has similar results, but in every instance, at least one vital area is exposed no matter which piece of armor you select.

Upon seeing the supernatural darkness, Lyriel turns on her heel and goes to fetch Zuriel. She makes her way to the armory, where she finds Zuriel meticulously examining a suit of armor, and Keef paging through a book the room of tapestries with wide eyes.

She quickly comes up to speed on what Keef and Zuriel have discovered, and she fills them in on the well.

Zuriel, when you're done...checking whatever you're checking, could you take a look at the well? You might be able to dispel the darkness. Keef, there's one more door we should check, to the north.

Zuriel looks up as Lyriel enters. "It would appear that our good friend A'tril has made himself a study of the art of striking vital areas. A highly suspect hobby, I would say."

He begins to make his way towards the well, but stops as another thought occurs to him. He checks his own armor against the diagram of the highborn male, looking for weak points.

It would be helpful to know what to defend against...especially if A'tril and I ever come to a more...forceful...disagreement.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 896):

Team Dilly Dally

Several of Zuriel's vital points are vulnerable through the armor, including elbow joints, knee joints, a small gap near the shoulder, and of course the neck.

Zuriel nods to himself as he appraises his armor. Good to know. Still, what I have now is better than most.

"Let's keep looking. I think I'm starting to get an idea of what this is."

He accompanies Lyriel and Keef to the north door, where Keef eagerly begins to work on the lock. Zuriel proceeds to the well room, where he regards the inky blackness curiously.

He extends a hand towards the well, though he keeps far from the darkness itself. He focuses, drawing on a reservoir of divine strength. His eyes flash white in the shadowy room.

"He'ir!" he exclaims.

[Casting Daylight > Targeting the Darkness]

[OOC I'M ATTACKING THE DARKNESS]