<shared thread>

Brugar looks out from the small opening in the cell door and is delighted to see Yetta at the similar opening in the cell door directly across the darkened corridor.

"Yetta, it be me, Brugar. Me an' 'amin be 'ere in the cell across from your'n. Be ye well, lass?" he whispers to her.

Hearing Brugar talking to Yetta, Hamin breathes a sigh of relief and moves across to the door to hear her response.

Moving closer to the opening, Yetta shrugs.  "Oh, you know.  I've had better days, but it could be worse.  At least I have company."

"Aye, same 'ere." Brugar replies. "There be the four of us in this 'ere cell. We got a skinny elf called Ayas who says 'e's a spellcaster, an' an old 'uman called Corrin who looks old enough to be yer grandfather.

"Did they put one of these metal collars on ye too, lass. Ayas thought we must be mages too when 'e saw us wearin' 'em. 'e says not to mess with 'em as they'll shock ye summat cruel. Knocked 'im out cold just for pullin' at it. Says it be bad enough to kill some folk.

"D'ye know aught about Alasha'an or Wulgreth? Ayas said they took one of our lasses away to another level, so that must be 'er, but we've 'eard naught about the big man. Ah reckon as that spider thing must've got 'im, curse it!"

"He's right about that," Yetta affirms Brugar's warning about the collar.  "I worked that out on my own.  I'm afraid not, but..."  She pauses.  "I mean... Alasha'an, do you think she might be OK?"

Ayas held a finger to his mouth warning the dwarf and the human to be quiet. He whispered, "Your friend doesn't have the best cellmate. I wouldn't be surprised if anything you say ends up back with the things that run this prison."

In Yetta's cell the three other women listen to your conversation with interest, one with a thin smile on her lips ... while in the opposite cell the old man huddles in the corner, his alarm only growing at Brugar's end of the discussion.

Ayas's warning comes just in time, as one of the white robed Sentinels enters the corridor.  Stopping outside he thumps the door twice, hard before unlocking it, repeating the process on the opposite door then turning to work his way back down the row of cells.  The sounds of rousing prisoners soon reach your ears.

"About time, too," Brugar grumbles. "Ah 'ope they be not feedin' us gruel! Ah 'ate gruel with a passion!"

OOC: Are we still wounded after the fight in the pit that ended with us taken prisoner or have we healed while we were unconscious?

"Stay close, and quiet" Ayas whispers and then is quiet while he waits for the doors to be unlocked.

Yetta follows Midnight out, but walks slowly, trailing back as she mingles with the other prisoners to wait for Hamin and Brugar to be released as well.

The old man pulls the cell door fully open and steps out warily, gesturing for you to follow him.  He walks slowly down the dank, cell lined passage, keeping his eyes lowered as other inmates come out of their cells, allowing Yetta to fall back behind him and join you.  Finally you reach a large cavern with walls hewn from the same jet-black stone as your cell.  Passages radiate out from the cavern on four sides.

A metal framework, surrounds a ten foot square shaft in the centre of the cavern extending from the floor to the ceiling, thirty feet above, with bars and gates ... to prevent 'accidents', you surmise.

The area is crowded, perhaps forty or more prisoners, a variety of races - predominantly human and male, but with the occasional female and Orc, Dwarf, even a Drow male.  The largest group congregate around Midnight on the far side of the cavern, with smaller knots here and there, a low hubbub of conversation reaching your ears.  The old man nods quickly towards a group of four who stand nearby.  A greybeard, though with the air of authority, a lithe red-haired woman and two men, both big, the tallest of the pair topping both Ayas and Hamin by a good six inches.  All return the nod, but no more, the others carefully and cautiously looking about them, your cell-mate keeping his eyes downcast.

Midnight waves at Yetta, raising a questioning brow.

There are seven figures dressed prominently in white robes patrolling the area, and nobody seems to want to come near them or catch their eye.

"Sentinels," the old man warns you all, softly,  face blank and gaze carefully averted.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ... for clarity, you and the old man are shown with red surrounds, Midnight is in the green group (she with a slightly darker green surround than her cronies) and the Sentinels with blue.  The figures with red dots are the ones who share your cells.  NB: you are all fully healed, if famished.
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:06, Sun 06 May 2018.

Ayas's eyes scan the room, seeing the prisoners have grouped as they typically did for mealtimes. Ayas felt a tug, each day there were few opportunities to truly be with another soul, even if it were to commiserate over another "meal," but he'd decided shortly after arriving  that a self-imposed solitary confinement was better than sacrificing any agency to a leader he didn't know, though that could be changing...

His face was blank, not willing to reveal his alarming reaction at Midnight's attention on the newcomer. He'd have to warn them. Not now, but soon...

For the first time, since his first mealtime, his feet felt frozen. There were new players in this dangerous game and he knew their moves could quickly upset whatever balance there was here. "Eat. You don't have time for much else. We can talk again after work. Maybe during if we're lucky."

Yetta nods back.  "I'm going to go sit with the cool kids," she says, breaking away and heading to Midnight's cluster, avoiding looking at the Sentinels.  She slips smoothly into the group and joins Midnight at its center.

"Thank you," she says, politely.  "I didn't want to presume."

"Reckon as it'll take a while to get me bearings 'ere," Brugar mutters to Ayas and Hamin. "Ah can't even see what we be s'posed to eat yet."

"Me too." Hamin agrees quietly, half watching his daughter make her way across to Midnight's group.  Trying hard to look old, tired and downbeat, he risks sideways glances around the room, trying to get his bearings, but also trying to note, unobtrusively, how the guards are operating.

If Ayas is alarmed to see Midnight's interest, that only grows as Yetta unadvisedly chooses to meet that interest head on.  The Elf's unease is not assuaged as his roving eyes meet only the stares of other prisoners who eye the newcomers (or perhaps the collars that they wear) with cold speculation.  .

Hamin watches his daughter, unable to prevent himself from showing more concern than he wishes, but managing to hide his interest in the guards who watch everyone with a directness eagerness that speaks to the absoluteness of their authority and control. 

As Yetta approaches a wall of bodies forms before her ... then parts at a signal from Midnight to allow her through.

"You found the pretty one, then ?" she mocks, nodding at Ayas and smiling thinly at someone behind her before turning her attention back to Yetta. 

Brugar's concerns over his breakfast are assuaged as all of those on the east side of the chamber (including yourselves but not Yetta) are ushered towards the southern passage by the Sentinels, to form a line that shuffles forwards.

"Morning meal," Corrin whispers, though the chunk of hard bread and thin bowl of vegetable stew that is thrust unceremoniously into your hands seems scarcely worthy of the name.  Nor are you provided with so much as a spoon, as you stand in the narrow and cramped room that is the prison mess ...

"Monks ..." Hamin mutters quietly after surreptitiously observing the guards for a while "... and alert monks at that."

Hamin allows his normal dour expression to slide across his face as he joins the shuffling breakfast line, and moves to the side to allow others into place as soon as his 'meal' is thrust at him.  The thin soup and hard bread isn't the worst food he has been given, but he lifts the bowl and sniffs as he watches his other prisoners - to see if the appropriate etiquette is to dip the bread or to take it alone.

"So how does the rest of the day go?" he asks Corrin quietly.

Brugar doesn't hesitate when he finally gets his bowl and crust of bread. He uses the bread crust as a spoon while it retains its integrity then nibbles off the soggy bits as the thin liquid of the stew soaks in.

He doesn't mind the taste at all, no matter what it tastes like, and finishes much sooner than he would have wished.

"It'll keep body an' soul together, Ah s'pose," he grudgingly admits. "Maybe not all of this body, but at least Ah'll not fade away overnight."

Ayas answers for the old man in a whispered tone, "From here we head down to the forge or the mines, depending on what they choose. Your daughter, she's your's right?" he asks Hamin, "She's attracting the wrong kind of attention. If we get a moment later where our voices won't carry, I'll tell you more..."

When an opportunity arises for a quick question Brugar asks Ayas a question about their collars.

"Them there sentinels. Do they 'ave any control over these 'ere collars to shock us, or aught like that?" he asks as quietly as he can manage.

Hamin nods, although he is fairly confident that Yetta realises exactly what she is doing.  After all, she is almost as cynical as he is ....

The old man nods as Ayas explains what happens next.

"Most like you two are for the mines," he tells Hamin nervously.  "They value strong backs above all down there.  Perhaps your daughter might be spared that, if Midnight has taken a liking to her and she'll be assigned to other duties in the workshop or laundry.  Midnight has some sway with the Sentinels.  A bad woman to cross."

"They can," he answers the Dwarf's question regarding the collars.  "They rarely are given cause, but I've seen them kill a man who was foolish enough to do so.  You don't want to die that way."

"Who?" Yetta blinks, following Midnight's nod and trying to think who over there could be called `pretty'.  "Oh, him.  He didn't seem important.  Is he?" she asks, curiously.

She looks into her bowl and sighs a little.  "I suppose meat was too much to hope for.  At least it's not gruel."  She waits for Midnight before she starts eating, but once she does, eats quickly.  She doesn't think of actually scooping the broth up with the bread, but does dip it in to soften it, and then drinks down what's left when it's gone.

Brugar doesn't look pleased at Corrin's answer, but doesn't he look surprised either.

"Reckon as that'd be why they put 'em on us then. Nought to do with thinkin' we might be mages after all," he mutters.

Hamin listens to the exchange between Brugar and Corrin, before asking "How long have you been here, Corrin?  And what sort of work do they have you doing?"

"I'm a carpenter by trade," the old man quails before Brugar's frown, and is less than comforted by the stern visage of the one-eyed warrior. "That at least spares me the mines and the forge.  I fashion spares and tools, whatever I'm told, in the workshops."

"I've been many years.  So long that I have all but forgotten my life before."

The first group of prisoners are ushered back out into the main cavern, and the other half shuffle in to have their morning meal.

One of the second group dips close to Ayas as the two pass, quickly whispering something in the Elf's ear and grinning broadly, though the smile is gone as he turns away. 

Yetta is less impressed by the broth than the Dwarf or her father as she warily continues her conversation with Midnight, in the prison mess.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:38, Mon 28 May 2018.

"Many years," Brugar echoes Corrin's words glumly. "Well, Ah reckon as Ah've got more years left in me than ye, long shanks, though Ah be not sure if'n that be a good thing or not! So, is there ever any excitement 'ere or is boredom as big a part of the punishment as the 'ard labour do be?"

"Perhaps," the old man muses, eyeing the Dwarf speculatively.  "Though it seems I've been forgotten and left to rot here ... if you are as important as you seem to be to those who rule over us, then I think your stay here will be short and your remaining breaths not much beyond that, if they are merciful, else you will as like long for boredom."

"And I do not think that they show much mercy to those who would challenge the Dark Gods."  This last little more than a whisper as Corrin looks around furtively.

Not able to think of anymore questions to ask at the moment, Hamin waits to see what comes next.

"Them as rule over us? Who be that, then? Where is this place, anyway? What be outside of 'ere? We wasn't seein' aught when they brung us in 'ere." Brugar asked the old man just as quietly.

"The dark elves and their creatures," Corrin's lips are tight, his voice low, though he seems puzzled by the Dwarf's question, having never known any different in all his years.

"I came here by ship, long ago ... this prison lies in the scoured hills somewhere south of the Saura'sira as I reckon it.  It is a long way from anywhere."

"We are not far from where I was captured, then," Ayas gives voice to his surprise, though still has the presence of mind to keep that quiet enough.

"Somewhere south of Faugond."

Brugar smiles grimly and replies just as quietly, "Aye, a long way, p'raps, but not near as far as Ah feared."

Yetta shrugs.  "He's not really my type," she decides, working on her stew.  She glances openly at Midnight's bowl, and grins.  "I'm more attracted to power, I think, which seems a bit harder to come by down here than a straight nose."

The elf risks a glance at the man who whispered to him earlier, clearly wanting to say something more, but holds his peace, his gaze flicking to Corrin, almost speculatively.

The old man catches the look, a puzzled expression stealing over his face.

"Faugond ?" Corrin whispers questioningly.  "There's naught in those barren hills worthy of anyone's attention, let alone our cruel lords.  What were you up to that they'd imprison you here ?"

The other half of the group of prisoners return from the kitchens, and further conversation is all but impossible, as, with a great rattling of chains and groaning of gears, a steel platform descends from the roof of the cavern at the top of the central metal cage, eventually coming to a stop at your level.

The greybeard that Corrin acknowledged earlier joins you, nodding grimly to Ayas and introducing himself as Karl.  At his urging, you wait with him as the lift makes two rattling trips down and back.  When it is your turn, the platform is much less crowded, though there is still a certain amount of tension in the air and you are pleased to have someone else around you who seems somewhat trustworthy.

Corrin nods towards you as he and the select others (indeed many of those gathered around Midnight) are led off to the workshops above, as the platform descends deeper, the lady herself waggling her fingers at Yetta.

While you wait, Ayas takes advantage of the noise to whisper urgently, seemingly drawing some courage from Karl's presence, happy to take the big man into his confidence as well.

"The man who spoke to me earlier - Varl is his name - told me that he and his friends will try to break out tonight. He's expecting me to go with them.. but I fear they're fools who are just going to get themselves killed and perhaps a lot of others besides!"

Brugar considers the suggestion for a long moment before shaking his head, though obviously not happy about the decision he seems to have come to.


"Can't see us goin' nowhere while we've these things round our necks. Not if'n them sent'nels can shock us with 'em at will. Wish Ah knew as 'ow to get 'em off first," he muttered in response.

"So we need to 'acquire' a chisel and a rock ...." he says quietly,  looking at the old man who works in the workshop fabricating tools and things that the guards need.

Yetta nods back to Midnight as she's drawn away.  She resists actually shaking her head as she joins the whispered debate.  "They react if you mess with them," she cautions.  "Not sure we'd survive long enough to have it hammered off."

She looks at the one on Brugar, studying it as they drop.  "Anybody remember the way back to that anti-magic room?" she asks, curiously.

"Ah don't remember aught," Brugar admits. "The poison of that spider-demon thing knocked me out cold afore we was dragged outa there an' Ah can only remember bein' dragged along the corridor where our cells are, then woke up again inside one of 'em."

"About the same for me." Hamin agrees with the Dwarf.

Then he adds quietly, "Our best chance to get loose, might well be when someone else is making a distraction, and I am not keen to go up against legions of guards alone.  Nor am I prepared to stay here and rot ...."

"There are chisels in the forge," the young elf tells Hamin, voice still soft, but he sounds more confident with the noise of the chains masking his words, though he still shudders at Brugar's mention of the spider-demon.  "Won't be easy getting one out while they're watching us, though."

"I tried to get my collar off and it almost killed me," he echoes Yetta's caution.

"The cells on the lowest level," Ayas whispers, "where they took your friend. They've got the old abbot down there, the one who used to be in charge of this place and they need him for the escape. Varl said that no magic works down there !"

The cage continues to descend as you take the chance to talk, trusting in the rattles and squeaks to prevent your words from being overheard.

"They check the tools," Karl warns Ayas as the Elf suggests trying to steal one, "but we could put an edge on some flat bar - it'd be crude but might suffice."

"Escape is ... well, they'll kill any who try and fail, and to my knowledge nobody has ever yet succeeded."

Hamin glances across at Brugar, "Where they took out friend?" Hamin presses Ayas to expand on that, "Which one? The old man or the elf woman?  And what do you know of the Abbot?"

The he turns to Karl and there is a very slight smile, but a smile that just makes Hamin look meaner.  "There has always got to be a first time."

"I only heard the Sentinels speak of taking 'the other woman' to the lowest level," Ayas tells Hamin regretfully.

"Varl said that something must have happened to the old Abbot, something bad for them to keep him chained up down there, but he didn't know what."

"Or a last time," Karl replies grimly to Hamin.

"I know about the Abbot ... one of the prisoners attacked him.  Bit him.  Died for it, of course, and not quickly, but a short time later the Abbot transformed into a ... creature.  The Sentinels threw him in the cells below so now he's an inmate in his own prison."

"Magic don't work down in the lowest level, ye say? That sounds like the first wee bit of good news Ah've 'eard since wakin' up with this 'ere collar round me neck," Brugar mutters thoughtfully. "If there be any sort of tools to be 'ad down there then Ah reckon as Ah've got enough skill as weaponsmith to crack these things open, all right. That reminds me though, Ah wants me axes back afore we leave this place, if ever we get the chance."

First ...  last ... two ends of the same circle." Hamin says with a grin, but then the grin gets mean again, "So how do we get to the lowest level?"

He pauses for a moment before continuing quietly, "I have a very long standing score to settle with these guys.  Or at least with their boss."

Yetta resists smiling, but looks thoughtful.  "And if this used to be the Abbott's prison, he'll know his way around and might appreciate a hand.  Karl's right, the right piece of scrap metal will work as well as a chisel and be a lot easier to get away with.  And," she looks at him directly for a moment, adding, "Don't worry.  I'm sure people have escaped.  It's not like they're going to come back and tell you the truth."

Karl shakes his head, not seeming to share your optimism.

"This is the only way up or down," he gestures to the cage.  The cells are on the lowest level, beneath the mine workings, and it only gets hotter the farther down you go.  The cell doors ... I think they only open twice - once when you go in and then the last time when you leave, whether alive or dead."

"The new abbot would have the key.  Used to be second in command.  I do not know how he would have offended you personally ..." Karl looks at Hamin, considering.  "... perhaps you might make him regret it at that, but as like you'll not live long to enjoy your victory."

"We would have to get into the cells anyway," Ayas whispers excitedly. "They're the only place that magic doesn't work.  But we'll need more than a chisel to get through the locks on those doors."

"If'n the ol' abbott changed into summat else after 'e got bit, sounds like 'e be more like one of the 'azards what we gotta overcome to take advantage of there bein' no magic in them lowest cells, rather than someone waitin' for rescue," Brugar muttered.

He didn't look like that thought had deterred him though.

"In ways that you could barely imagine." the one eyed warrior replies grimly, before turning to Brugar  "Collars first.  Then we can worry about the rest ..."

At last the cage comes to a halt, the chains stopping it swinging more than a fraction as it sits over the open shaft that continues down, both Karl and Ayas inform you, to the lowest level of the prison where the former Abbot and presumably Alasha'an are kept.

If it was warm above, here it is uncomfortably so.  Ayas and Karl trudge south down a narrow tunnel with a metal track running down it, the fires of the forge where they will labour glowing in the far distance.

Brugar, Hamin and Yetta, however, are bound for the mines, following the eastern tunnel and struggling to find footing around another metal track, and in the heat the three of you are sweating and all but panting for breath as the tunnel opens out into a larger chamber.

Here the bulk of the prisoners work with simple picks, a pair of them allocated to one shaft, one to dig, the other to haul up the rock using a bucket and a rope, emptying the contents into mine cart that one of your number is occasionally directed to push to the forge when full, so your path crosses with Ayas and Karl but not often.

Three of those prisoners that stood with Karl in the common room above now attach themselves to you upon the strength of that acquaintance and direct you to a shaft near them, one offering to work with Brugar.  There are ladders to get you down into the shaft, but only a few of them, so they must be shared around.

And all under the watchful eye of the Sentinels.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar nods a greeting to his new workmate and indicates the shaft.

"After ye," he tells him.

Seeing what work is expected of them, Hamin  looks across to Yetta, "Do you want to dig or haul?" he asks as he wipes the sweat from his forehead.

There is little worse than sweat in the eyes -  especially when you only have one.

"Ooh, they both look like so much fun," Yetta says.  "I'll dig.  You'd keep hitting your head," she grins.

With a fractional bow, Hamin waves his Daughter into the hole before him -  just like a noble ceding right-of-way to a lady .....

And so you begin your first day of labour in the mines.

The heat down here had you sweating already, and the back-breaking labour only makes matters worse, though it is arguable whether wielding the picks and shovels down in the shafts or the strain of hauling and carrying away the buckets of ore is least pleasant.

Either way, the work is hard, exhausting ...

... and dangerous.

A low rumbling is the precursor to the earth around you beginning to shake violently - an earthquake, you think, though those above struggle to keep their feet while those in the shafts cover their heads to protect themselves from falling chunks of rock.

But then the ground in the southern part of the chamber erupts consuming several miners and something emerges from the hole ...

The creature is massive, a cross between a giant slug and a sea turtle with a teardrop-shaped body that glistens with slime, mottled gray, brown and ochre all over.  Two great flippers tipped with blunt claws sprout from the forebody.  The upturned stone seems to melt as it touches the creature, to be shoveled up into its gaping maw along with a couple of miners that are unlucky enough to be caught up, their screams cutting off with a horrible finality.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar grips his pickaxe tightly as he stares at the huge subterranean monster.

"By the rock, what in all the 'ells be that?" he wonders aloud.

He glances around at the sentinels to see what they are going to do about it.

The Sentinels are as surprised as any by the sudden appearance of the creature, though it quickly becomes evident that such, while unusual, is not unprecedented.

"Keep away from it !" they urge the inmates, though it seems their concern is not for the men and women themselves, but for the preservation of their workforce.  "Don't let it get to the picks and shovels !"

"Call for Golos to be sent down !" one, possibly the senior of those present, orders another who swiftly runs off down the northernmost of the two east-west tunnels.

For the moment, the huge creature seems content to munch on the debris at the edge of the hole it created.

Brugar will gather up any spare tools lying nearby. If his friends want to move further away from the huge creature he is more than happy to stick with them.

Hamin nods and grabs  whatever tools he can see that are close to him.  Looking around the chamber , it is clear that they should probably head north, away from the creature.  There is the tunnel heading north east, but there was also a lone guardian guardian stationed in the North East  and another directly to the east of them.

Taking a moment to glance around, Hamin looks to what everyone else is doing.  What better time to remove collars and disappear than when there is a damned great monster to 'eat' them ...

Always helpful, Yetta gathers up some tools also, and then passes some over to Hamin.  Under the rattling of tools, she suggests quickly, "It came in from somewhere.  If we can get behind it..."

The other prisoners are of a similar mind you you, backing away from both beast and the large hole it came from, taking with them what tools are in reach, though they do not retreat far, only twenty or thirty feet or so, just enough to keep out of the way.  Even those down the shafts are assisted up the ladders - perhaps whatever each thinks of the other, they know that it could just as easily be them trapped down there.

The Sentinels watch carefully, both beast and their charges, repeating their instructions for everyone to keep back, though that only proves necessary once or twice.  Your warders are obviously prepared to simply maintain their vigil until Golos can be brought down here.

"I've not seen the like before," Brugar's shaft-mate tells the Dwarf. "There's always a risk of Fire-Worms.  Nasty creatures that melt their way through the rock, but they're not as long as a man is tall.  That thing there is bigger than anything I've seen.  Looks like the Sentinels know what to do about it ... not unknown to them, I guess."

Hamin takes the tools offered and nods at Yetta's comments.  Then heads towards the wall behind the lone guard away from the main entrance.

OOC - Directly to the right on the map.

"Aye, Ah've never seen nor 'eard of ought like it afore neither," Brugar agrees.

Then he follows Hamin over toward the wall.

"What be that beast called?" he asks aloud.

The three men who stood with Karl follow you as you retreat to the east side of the cavern.

"They call it a Delver," one of the three tells Brugar.  "I think it more like a demon, coming forth from whatever dark hell in which it makes its abode, to torment us !"

Though you all watch warily, the creature, demon or no, seems content to munch upon the broken rock, at least for as long as it takes for the Sentinel ran off to return with another man, assumedly the Golos that was called for.

The man seems much like any other prisoner, sullen, worn ... nodding his understanding of whatever instructions the guards give him.  Though when one touches his hand to the collar on his neck, causing it to fall away, he gasps as if struck, almost falling.

On command, Golos holds out his hand to accept what seems to be a crystal of some kind, nothing more than a piece of quartz, but from the way he cradles it, precious beyond measure.

The man approaches the creature, the nearby prisoners backing away further, as if expecting the Delver to be incensed by such temerity ... but it ignores him, even as he raises the stone ...

"Dunatis !" Golos cries out, with broken voice, holding the crystal high.  "Hear your servant ... guide this child of the earth back to your hearth !"

The creature looks up ... then begins to slowly slide back down into the hole from whence it came.

And as it departs, Golos weeps.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

"A priest of Dunatis." Hamin exclaims quietly, "I wonder if he can call those things as well as dismiss them ....  So where do they keep Golos?" He asks the three that are with them.

"Dunatis be the Soul of the Stone, the Rock of Ages. His priests be the Rocks of Dunatis. Be like Golos be one of them Rocks an' that crystal be 'is 'oly symbol. Ah've 'eard the name delver spoken afore but never knew aught about 'em. 'tis a day to be learnin' new things, it seems like," Brugar responded quietly to those closest to him.

"Golos labours in the workshop above," one of the nearby prisoners informs you. "The Sentinels do not trust what the rock itself might one day yield to his hands if they had him down here with the rest of us !"

Indeed your guards are swift to close on the priest, prising the stone from his grasp before fastening the iron collar back around his neck.  Golos does not struggle, but though his tears cease, his shoulders slump in defeat and anguish as they lead him away, while the others abjure you to return to your work.

"And that stone?  Any idea where they keep that?" Hamin asks softly as he returns to his pit ....
This message was last edited by the player at 20:03, Sun 12 Aug 2018.

If there happens to be a convenient rock nearby that might offer a hiding place for a pick or other tool, and if he thinks he can do it without being observed by one of the sentinels or the other prisoners they don't trust yet, Brugar will casually let one of the picks he collected slide out of sight in that hidey hole. But if he doesn't think he can get away with it he won't risk it this time before heading back to the pit where he was previously digging.

Once back at work he will be keenly searching for any sign of another crystal like the one Golos used.

"Saw them taking things into one of the building up top," one of the prisoners tells Hamin, eyeing the Sentinels warily.  "Not that I had anything on me worth their while."

The Dwarf can see nowhere that he might hide any tools ... indeed, it seems your guards are most diligent in that regard, already organising prisoners to descend into the large hold that the Delver left behind it to retrieve the picks and shovels that fell in there ... and the bodies too, though that seems almost an afterthought, much like a clerk might wish to balance a book of account, though he cared little for each individual entry therein.

Nor do the shafts seem eager to yield up anything other than the ubiquitous black rock.

At length, Ayas arrives with others from the forges to assist in loading the fruits of your labours into the mining carts to take the raw ore to be processed ...

As you haul the buckets over to the mining carts, the Elf takes the opportunity to speak with you, though he keeps his voice low, almost as wary of the other prisoners as he is of the Sentinels.

"The break tonight," Ayas seems both excited at the prospect yet uncertain as to whether it has any hope of success, and nervous at what retribution your jailers will excact if it does not, "they're going to stage a riot during the evening meal as a distraction while some of them go below to free the old warden from solitary confinement - seems he's the key to it all."

The man that has been working the mineshaft with Brugar speaks up at the news Ayas brings, much to the Elf's chagrin.

"As like they'll get themselves and a lot of us slaughtered !"

Though dirt-streaked and weary, his eyes burn with a sudden fire as he eyes the large hole to the south of the chamber.

"I'm weighing up my chances down there.  Perhaps the trail that horror has left in its wake might lead out of here ..."

Looking around nervously, to see if any of your guards are watching, he continues to carry and load the stone, though his gaze keeps drifting over the to hole, considering.

"Ye can try it if'n ye like, mate," Brugar whispers to his co-worker. "It be gone far enough for the guards to send prisoners in to fetch out tools an' bodies, at least. Dunno how far away it would 'ave gone but if'n ye gotta roll the dice sometime that might be as good a bet as any. As for me, Ah ain't goin' nowhere with this 'ere collar 'round me neck."

"But down that hole might just be far enough away from whatever drives the magic of the collars." Hamin murmurs as he heads back towards the mining pits.

The Elf shakes his head.  "I'm told the magic lies upon the collars themselves," he tells Hamin. "If the Sentinels are not nearby then they could not use them to bring us down.. but still should we try to remove them then they would be activated."

"I believe that is another reason for the conspirators wanting to free the old warden - the cells below supress the effects of magic - down there those of them that wear the collars might be able to remove them.  So too, your friend is down there ... so we think, at least."

"This hole.. if I were you I'd wait until the break was underway then try to get down here and try it, while our guards are occupied," he tells the other man who is working with you.  "Myself, I'm hopeful of riding the cage to the surface, but if all else fails then I'd chance following that creature's path."

"Well, in that case, it might just be better to  slip into the lower levels without being seen." Hamin muses, "If everyone else is charging down there and keeping the guards occupied, we might be able to slip through undetected." He glances across at his daughter, guessing that she  has a better chance of guiding them through that process than he or Brugar has.

"Or if we can get through the door quietly before the event, we might be able to sneak part way there, and then slip behind the guards as they rush to deal with the general insurgence."   Hamin doesn't much like using  a bunch of hapless slaves as a distraction, but sometimes one has to use the only resources one has at one's disposal.

"As like the Sentinels will take down anyone with a collar first," the other man muses.  "Aye, you need to keep away from them else you'll be caught up in that, whether you're intending to sneak away or no - they'll not care."

"It is unlikely that the hole would have breached the lower level," Ayas adds, trying to dissuade any from false hope.  "Those cells lie somewhere beneath the forges," he inclines his head back towards the tunnel from whence he entered the mining cavern.

"I've not much faculty with locks myself," he admits, "but I can sneak out a piece of wire which we might be able to use.  Or perhaps we might prevail upon one of our fellows to assist us.  It should not be too much to hope that someone is in here for theft, common or otherwise !"

Belatedly the elf realises his excitement has gotten the better of him and looks around, hoping nobody notices his unwhispered words.

Brugar just grunts when Ayas mentions looking for a lockpick.

"Don't look at me. Ah be renowned for breakin' stuff, not breakin' an' enterin'!" he growls softly.

When his mining buddy warns that the collars will be a prime focus for the Sentinels' attention he growls again.

"Reckon as Ah might want to find meself a scarf. It do be a bit chilly down 'ere," he mutters.

The long day of sweat and toil wears on.

Ayas returns to his work in the forge, though you see him infrequently throughout the day as he returns to help shift the rocks you mine, and you are able to exchange a few words.

At the last, as fatigue grips you and aching muscles and pangs of hunger leave you hoping your work is done, the Elf brings the blessed news that this is the last load for the day.  However ...

"The die is cast," the elf looks both excited and scared. "Varl and I will go up soon to collect the meals for the prisoners below.. once we're down there, the other prisoners will riot - some willingly, the rest because they'll have no choice other than to defend themselves."

"Hang back down here - make sure you're amongst the last group. When you hear the sounds of fighting, grab what tools you can to use as weapons and make your way down the open elevator shaft to meet up with us.  With you there, I can convince them to help free your companion. And after.. may the Mother help us!"

Ayas hurries off.

Brugar nods grimly to acknowledge that he has understood the instructions, at least.

He keeps working in his pit, swinging his pick in a steady rhythm and shows no sign of wanting to stop anytime soon. It should come as no surprise that he will be one of the last to leave the mine tonight.

Hamin looks across at Yetta and raises his eyebrows, but a thin smile plays across his lips as he descends into the pit.  "Oh, I am sure she will." Hamin mutters with some sincerity as Ayas leaves to continue with his own work.

As he works, Hamin checks the tools that are available to him, hoping to find something that suits his style.  "Ready for this?" Hamin asks his daughter.

Brugar's enthusiasm for his labours brings much muttering from the other prisoners and draws the puzzled attention of the nearby Sentinels.  While your guards are obviously suspicious of the Dwarf, they seem unwilling to chastise him for the prodigious effort he is making, choosing instead to berate your fellows.

Hamin at least is able to keep up - while the one-eyed warrior might lack Brugar's stamina, he is able to place the blows of his pick with more accuracy, and moreover to use the distraction to urge Yetta to hide a hammer and chisel when they are looking the other way, his daughter displaying equal nimbleness as the tools vanish from sight.

Between those, the heavy picks the two men currently grasp, and the light pick and heavy hammer that the Dwarf placed in a hole close nearby earlier on when the Delver broke through into the cavern, you feel as ready as you can be ...

... the faint rattle of chains indicates that the cage is returning for the last group of the day, just a dozen or so left now with two Sentinels, the three of you, the three men from Karl's group, including Brugar's workmate and another four surly louts.

You slowly, watchfully, begin to load up the rocks onto the waiting carts, waiting, waiting ...

An explosion from above shakes the cavern, and small rocks and dust shower down upon you as the sound of tearing metal reaches your ears.  Perhaps not quite the sound of riot that you had been expecting, but undoubtedly the jail break is on !

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ... you have Surprise

As soon as he hears the explosion, Hamin bends to retrieve the hammer  they had stashed earlier.  The Heavy pick in one hand, hammer in the other he makes his way swiftly towards the northern most guard, circling slightly to get as far around behind the guard as he can.  Silently he unleashes a series of blows with the unfamiliar weapons, hoping they hit true.  After all, if the other prisoners are correct, he will only get one chance ….

----
I made a right pig’s ear of those rolls in more ways than one …

21:09, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 20 using 1d20+11.  Pick - Primary. Main attack with Pick
21:11, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 10 using 1d6+4.  Pick Dam 1.
21:10, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 24 using 1d20+11.  Hammer -first.
21:11, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 7 using 1d4+4.  Hammer dam 1.

21:10, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 10 using 1d20+6.  Pick - first. (actually 2nd attack)
21:11, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 6 using 1d6+4.  pick dam 2.
21:10, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 12 using 1d20+6.  hammer second.
21:11, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 5 using 1d4+4.  hammer dam 2.

As soon as he realises that Hamin is on the move toward the northern sentinel, Brugar grips his heavy pick in both hands and charges straight at the western sentinel, striding across the corners of two pits on the way. With every step the rage grows inside him until he is wild-eyed and snarling in fury as he swings the pick at the sentinel.

OOC: Raging and charging, power attack 5 wielding heavy pick two-handed. 30ft move to NE corner of western sentinel. If he can't charge then subtract 2 from the attack roll.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 26 using 1d20+13.  To hit with pick, charging, raging, power attack 5.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 21 using 1d6+20.  Pick damage, 2-handed, raging, power attack.

Hamin and Yetta pause to retrieve the hidden weapons before the pair turn towards the nearest Sentinel, both circling around him to attack from opposite sides.

The one-eyed warrior reaches his opponent first, slamming the heavy pick he wields into the man's side, eliciting a grunt of pain, but perhaps more rewarding is the look of fear that now shows upon the face of the cruel guard, the moreso as Yetta strikes him from behind with a heavy blow from her hammer.

Brugar elects to direct his efforts to bringing down the other Sentinel.  With surprising agility, the Dwarf threads a path between pit and prisoners, unleashing his anger as he puts all his strength into a powerful blow that nigh on brings the guard to his knees ...

... and then the other prisoners fall upon them.  Badly injured by the suddenness and ferocity of your attacks, neither Sentinel is able to put up more than a token resistance and both swiftly fall, though the mob do not relent, taking out their frustration and resentment upon the pair, leaving battered and bloodied corpses in their wake.

There is a moment afterwards as everyone looks around, as if fearing retribution ... but then they begin to move - some heading for the north west tunnel and the cage lift, the rest choosing to take their chances down the hole that the Delver left behind.

As you consider your options, you examine the bodies of the fallen guards.  Each Sentinel has but simple robes, tied with a sash, and sandals upon their feet. In the pockets of their robes you find each has two potions and ten throwing stars.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ... note that there are sufficient heavy picks, heavy hammers (warhammer) and light picks for everyone - choose your weapons

It takes a little while for Brugar's rage to dissipate and he takes it out on the sentinel's corpse until he has calmed down. He slumps slightly when the after-effects hit him and he abandons the heavy pick he had used in favour of a heavy hammer.

While Brugar and the others are taking it out on the bodies, Hamin signals to Yetta to move away from  the fracas.  "Lets see if we can get that collar off of you ..." he says reaching for the chisel they has secreted earlier.

Yetta does indeed rifle through the Sentinel's pockets, and takes both the potions and throwing stars as everyone else seems preoccupied.  At Hamin's suggestion, when she sees him picking up the chisel, her eyes widen.  "What?  No!" she says, shaking her head.  "Just touching it almost killed me," she explains.  "It might have an even more extreme response if it's actually broken.  We need to get to the anti-magic level, use it to our advantage."

If no one else has when the other prisoners start to head off in different directions, she will similarly gather up the other Sentinel's stars and potions.  "Which is why I think we should go down," she adds.  "Though I don't know if the Delver's trail will take us where we need to go... does the cage go down further?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:59, Mon 08 Oct 2018.

"Aye, Ah reckon so," Brugar replies. "That long-ears Ayas Rocan said to make our way down the open elevator shaft to meet up with 'im an' the others what be tryin' to break outa 'ere.  With us there, 'e reckons 'e can convince 'em to free Alasha'an. She an' the ol' warden be down in that lowest level, as Ah unnerstand it."

When they are finished searching the bodies of the two sentinels Brugar will take particular delight in picking each one up and heaving them down the delver's hole.

Hamin nods his agreement and strides off for the lift shaft.  "Come on you lot ..." he calls to the other prisoners, "If you want those collars off ..."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:17, Thu 11 Oct 2018.

Recovered from his exertions and having exchanged his pick for a hammer, Brugar disposes of the two bodies of the Sentinels once Yetta is done with them.

Having taken both Sentinels' throwing stars and potions, Yetta and Hamin discuss the removal of the collars, quickly choosing to follow Ayas's plan and make your way to the lower level by way of the elevator shaft where the suppression of magics within the cells should enable you to remove them safely. 

The other prisoners do not heed Hamin's call, and neither of the pair that chose to head for the elevator shaft as you did have a collar around their necks.

Your steps are slowed by the tracks that run down the tunnel, but only a little and you soon reach the landing ... only to discover a tangle of broken chains.  One at least remains intact, and with barely a pause, you begin to climb down, setting aside your weariness and aching limbs from the long work day.  The other two prisoners do not join you - set on joining the their fellows above in the fight from which shouts and screams reach your ears.

The chain proves strong and makes the climb down easy enough, though it is somewhat more difficult to pick your way around the shattered and bent metal of the cage which dangles at the base of the shaft - it seems that single surviving chain slowed the descent enough that at least some of the occupants survived, though one Sentinel and two prisoners lie cold and lifeless.

Gaining the corridor, you make your way towards the light at the end where you see Ayas, Varl (the man who spoke with the Elf earlier), a Sentinel and what you take to be two stone statues, standing in front of one open cell door.  Varl is working on the lock of another door with seemingly little success, as the Sentinel watches on impatiently, rubbing his wrists, while Ayas stands warily.

As you approach, the two statues turn and start towards you, but stop at a word of command from the Sentinel.

"Your friends ?" the Sentinel asks Ayas coldly, his robes strangely ragged and soiled, and with short but matted hair.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:04, Sun 14 Oct 2018.

"Looks like ye 'ad a bit of an' 'ard landin' back there. Glad to see ye made it, long-ears," Brugar says to Ayas.

Then he nods toward the man in the sentinel's robes.

"My name be Brugar," he tells him.

Hamin's single eye darts from side to side as he assesses the situation.  His pick hangs loosely in his hand while he waits to see what transpires between Ayas and the 'sentinel'.

The young man steps forward nervously, cradling one arm in the other, lips tight as he nods toward Brugar.

"I can vouch for them," he assures the Sentinel.  "They share my cell ... another of their companions was imprisoned down here with you."

He glances towards the west door, then back to the east where Varl works.

Varl swears, as he drops one of the bent wires with which he's trying to pick the lock, earning him a look of annoyance from the Sentinel.

"Be quick about it - if you do not fear my displeasure then be sure that Sedakas Crane will brook no delay !"

The inmate cowers, muttering apologies as he recovers the makeshift tool and turns back to the lock.

"You wish your freedom, Dwarf ?" the Sentinel looks to Brugar.  "Could you do better than this fool ?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:25, Sun 21 Oct 2018.

"Not with aught as flimsy as that," Brugar replies, indicating the bent wires that Varl is working with.

"Ah'd use summat like this," he continues, holding up the heavy hammer. "But it ain't quiet. Be that a problem 'ere an' now?"

Hamin listens as Brugar speaks with the sentinel, and his fingers stray to the collar around his neck and tugs at it slightly.  "So is this the area these collars don't work?" he asks Ayas.

"I could give it a try," Yetta offers, kneeling down next to Varl.  "I doubt I'm as good, but I know enough to know sometimes it just takes a different touch.  And if I can't get it, we'll let Brugar do it the noisy way."

Ayas reaches out to try to stop Hamin before he can test the iron collar that sits around his neck, shaking his head frantically.

"Not out here.. in there," the elf nods towards the open cell door.

The Elf catches Hamin's hand, breathing a sigh of relief as the spells upon it do not trigger, though he proves even quicker in releasing his grip as he gestures towards the cell where magics are suppressed.

Varl is not reluctant to relinquish the makeshift pick to Yetta ... but her luck proves no better than his as she is unable to get the lock to shift.  Both of them exchange a resigned glance before turning hopefully to Brugar.

Disappointed at their failure, the Sentinel eyes the pair scornfully before addressing the Dwarf.

"Noise does not concern me," he informs Brugar.  "Just get that door open - once that is done you may see to your companion's release."

Brugar grins and steps up to the door, gripping his heavy hammer in both hands. Then he sets to work on making the door ring like a blacksmith's anvil.

OOC: Strength bonus +5 becomes +7hp damage wielding a one-handed weapon two-handed. Power attack -9 gives +18hp damage with weapon used two-handed. So damage per blow is 1d8+25hp.

Brugar Armbuster rolled 31,27,29,29,29,32,32,26,30,28 using d8+25,d8+25,d8+25,d8+25,d8+25,d8+25,d8+25,d8+25,d8+25,d8+25.  Ringing the door bell.

It takes the Dwarf but four resounding blows to break in the eastern door, leaving the metal portal hanging precariously on one hinge.

In the centre of the cell stands a handsome blonde man, his upper torso bare, bound hand and foot with manacles.  He bears many distinctive tattoos - a spiderweb across the left side of his face, crosses on the backs of his hands, and a cage with a black heart depicted within upon his right breast.

Slowly he raises his head, revealing deep blue eyes that glimmer with insanity.

"You have the thanks of Sir Sedakas Crane," he tells Brugar with an unnerving, cold politeness.

The Sentinel smiles thinly, acknowledging Brugar's success and nods his head to give permission to try his luck on the western cell, though in truth the Dwarf needs neither permission nor urging, carrying his heavy hammer to the opposite end of the corridor, there to strike it again and again against the remaining cell door, even as Varl reluctantly but resignedly takes the makeshift pick from Yetta's fingers and begins work on the bonds that hold Sir Sedakas Crane.

The second metal portal withstands but three of Brugar's well-placed blows before the lock is bent and buckled and it swings open to reveal Alasha'an hanging unmoving from chains attached high on the wall above her head.

Brugar doesn't hesitate but hurries forward into the cell to check on Alasha'an. As soon as he reassures himself that she is still breathing he turns his attention to the chains that hold her. He is looking to see what would be the weakest point on that arrangement and the best way to free her.

Seeing Brugar head for Alash'an and preparing to free her, Hamin turns to Yetta.  "We had better start getting these collars off.  I would hate for someone to turn the anti-magic effects off before we got out of here, and I want to be sure we can fight our way out as soon as we have Alasha'an down.  And there are some here as I really want to have serious 'words' with ...

... You first or me?" he asks his daughter, holding out the hammer and chisel.

Yetta, too, starts towards Alasha'an, but stops.  She flinches again a little as he holds out the chisel, but takes a deep breath and nods, tilting her head to stretch her neck out.  "Go ahead, then," she agrees, closing her eyes.

Hamin nods, and looks around for something that he can use as a block of some sort to hammer against.  Once he is happy, he will set the chisel and hammer away at it, trying to break the collar.

"Tol' you t' 'nock.." Alasha'an breathes, gritting her teeth at the effort as she slowly opens one eye..

And then the other, a small smile forming on her lips as she recognises the dwarf.

"'ey, Brugar. G'd t' see y.."

"Thi' mean we winn'n ?"

As Brugar enters the cell where Alasha'an hangs, the collar around his neck simply falls away ... very much to Yetta's relief as she eyes the hammer and chisel that Hamin holds ready, daughter and father electing to join the Dwarf in the Elf's cell, Ayas eagerly following them, he more than any of you most glad to be free of the hated iron as your own collars clatter to the floor.

Alasha'an's words, effort though they be to force past her lips, at least provide the reassurance that Brugar seeks that she yet lives ... and a glance at her blood soaked jerkin and the ugly metal spike that protrudes from her side betrays the cause of her obvious anguish.

With the aid of Hamin's pick, the metal fitting high on the wall that holds the chains is pried loose and you gently lift the Elf down, where Hamin is finally able to put his tools to use and free her wrists.

Yetta and Hamin support Alasha'an while Brugar grimly pulls the spike from her side, eliciting no more than a grunt from the Elf, though her eyes promise that like the one-eyed warrior, she too intends to seek retribution for her torments.

More than half carrying Alasha'an out of the cell, you see that Varl has not yet been able to spring the lock upon the bonds of Sir Sedakas Crane.  The Sentinel turns his impatient gaze your way ... though it seems that the fact that you have succeeded where his lackey has failed means something to him, for he wordlessly indicates that Hamin should use that hammer and chisel to free the other man ...

... though he stops, looking puzzled, his nose twitching as he stares at the one-eyed warrior for a moment, before he inclines his head and smiling thinly as he completes the gesture.

"Brother ... if you would oblige ?"

Hamin smiles as the collar falls from his neck although it is not, perhaps, a smile that should please his enemies.  Although he is clearly happier that he is able to defend himself. his daughter and his friends. Once Alasha'an is down, he will break her remaining chains, taking care to restrain the tensed  muscles and sinews that are just itching to fight his way back through this prison.

Once they are back outside the cells, collarless, Hamin looks across at the sentinel and the still bound high priest.  "Where can I get some healing for her ..." he starts to ask, before he is brought up by the sentinels comments "Brother ... ?" he queries.

"Ah be right glad to see ye too, lass," Brugar greets Alasha'an in return. "Prisoners be riotin' upstairs, Ah reckon, so this be the best chance we be like to get."

Seeing Hamin hesitate Brugar releases Alasha'an to Yetta's care and steps forward to take the hammer and chisel from Hamin.

"Ye do the talkin', long shanks. Ah've more years experience with 'ammer an' chisel than ye 'ave with that 'alberd ye favour," he says by way of explanation.

If there is no objection he will set to work on the bonds of Sir Sedakas Crane.

The elf shakes her head, as her strength returns, already able to stand reasonably well on her own, though she doesn't say no to help.

"Jus' give me a couple of minutes," Alasha'an snarls, her voice much stronger and echoing some of Hamin's silent anger.

"Surely you sense it ?" the Sentinel asks Hamin.  "We are all pack-mates ..."

He breaks off, smiling as he sees the one-eyed warrior's lack of comprehension.

"No, you don't, do you.  You don't know ..."

"We are wolf-brothers.  The wolf is in you as it is in me."

For the moment all his attention is fixed upon Hamin.

With the hammer and chisel in hand, Brugar is as good as his word.  The manacles are of solid workmanship, but scarcely up to the Dwarf's standards, as he proves with a few well placed blows.

Sir Sedakas Crane, rubs his raw wrists, either not feeling the pain or simply ignoring it.

"Shadowfang, come," he commands, at which a winged creature flies from the cell behind him to perch upon his shoulder.  The thing has the form of a bat, but there is a wrongness about it and a dark intelligence behind its glowing eyes.  "Tell the priest, tell Talorn that I will be with him shortly."

The creature takes flight, back down the passageway towards the ruined elevator.

Sir Sedakas Crane smiles.  "You have my thanks," he tells Brugar with a strange intensity, his gaze fixed but not meeting the Dwarf's eyes.

"Wolf?" Hamin questions, as he looks from the sentinel to Sedakas Crane, amnd then round to the others.

His eyes harden even more as he sees the malignant familiar, and his grip tightens on his heavy pick, but he holds his hand, instead restricting himself to a simple question, "The Priest?"

There seem to be more questions than answers.

Brugar notes Sir Sedakas Crane's reaction and after a moment he nods and responds.

"Ye be welcome. We just be wantin' our gear back an' we'll be on our way out of 'ere. Our path be upward of 'ere, Ah take it?"

Yetta's breath catches a little, and she turns away from Alasha'an and steps over to her father, resting one hand against his chest as she looks up a him.  "We were bitten," she says, quietly, barely over her breath.

"And that which bit us will be slowly turning into a Carmine!" He replies softly, reminding her of the Great Weatherwax legends.  "Soon it will be having cravings for the finest of ales ...."

"Wolf?" Ayas questions too, with what might pass for considerable alarm were their situation not already so fraught. The elf struggles to juggle his hopes that he and these new companions of his might escape this prison-pit with concern for what they have unleashed down here, and the difficulties that lie ahead.

The elf grimaces as she stretches, testing her side, though the bleeding has now stopped and she looks as if she's spoiling for a fight, or will be soon.  Alasha'an eyes the tattooed fellow and the bald fellow, liking neither what she sees nor hears.

Closing her eyes in concentration for the moment (and setting aside the exchange between the sentinel and Hamin as a problem that will hopefully keep) she tries to find her blade..

"My sword is nowhere near," she growls, wishing very much for its weight in her hand.

The Sentinel smiles as it becomes obvious that ...

"You did not know," he remarks.  "Yet she guessed.  Your daughter ?  Bitten too, yet the wolf does not lurk within her.  Easily amended."

"The priest will remove those Marks of Justice and our Blackguard friend will be free to do what he does so well."

"Up there," Sir Sedakas Crane raises his eyes to the tunnel roof, as if able to see beyond the solid stone.  "Perhaps two and fifty feet we must climb.  We must go now.  If the woman is unable then leave her," he looks towards Alasha'an with a callous cast to his gaze.

"An' me axe," Brugar growls in response to Alasha'an's complaint. "We'll find 'em lass, up there somewhere."

He is clearly ready and eager to leave but clearly has no intention of leaving Alasha'an behind - even if he has to carry her on his back. Not that he expects her ever to need that, of course.

Hamin grins that humourless grin of his and turns to Alasha'an, "Whenever you are ready."

Drawing away from Hamin, Yetta nods, turning towards Sedakas.  She snorts a little at his comment.  "You don't know Alasha'an; if anyone's getting left behind, it'll be the rest of us," she says, stepping over towards him.

"Easily amended?  Can you do it before we climb?" she asks.  She holds her arm up.  "It just takes another bite, right?"

Hamin rolls his eyes at his daughter.  "Not now, Yetta."

The elf neither likes or trusts the Sentinel and Sedakas, but chooses not to pick a fight with them now, willing if not pleased to make use of the pair if it'll get her and her companions out of this place.

"Maybe Brugar will sink his teeth into you.. later," she suggests to Yetta, not so sure as Hamin that the young woman spoke in jest, but figuring it best to make light of her request. "I'm bleeding enough for all of us at the moment."

"Won't slow me down, though," Alasha'an tells the Blackguard pointedly. "Lead on."

She nods to Hamin and Brugar, the set of her face indicating that she's more than ready to press on.

The Sentinel just smiles at Yetta's request, but makes no attempt to do as she asks.

"First you must prove yourself to be more than just prey," he tells her.

"Come then."  He seems to take Alasha'an at her word as he turns and begins to walk unhurriedly down the passage.  Varl and Ayas exchange a glance then shrug, the former hurrying after him while the Elf lags behind, waiting on the rest of you.

Sir Sedakas Crane shoulders past him, flexing his shoulders as he works loose the aches in his muscles, seemingly looking forwards to whatever lies ahead of him, inviting violence.

Satisfied that Alasha'an is on her feet and able to proceed under her own steam, Brugar follows next, deliberately placing himself between the other inmates and his friends.  Hamin and Yetta come after with Alasha'an and Ayas bringing up the rear.

It takes but little time for you to retrace your steps to the wreckage of the cage.  The Sentinel does not look pleased to see it in this state, but though his lips tighten he makes no comment as he picks his way through it, grasping the dangling chains and beginning to climb.  Varl follows him, more worried than ever, while Sir Sedakas Crane does not react at all.

Looking up, you see it is about one hundred feet up to the mining level above.

Brugar looks about for something to secure his heavy hammer on his waist or back, or even for a long rope if such a thing might be nearby. He spares a moment for a few quiet words with his friends when Sir Sedakis and his cronies are out of earshot.

"Ah can climb that easy enough. Soon as Ah can find enough rope Ah'll pull ye up, if'n ye can't manage the climb yerselves," he assures them.

Then he sets himself to the task of climbing the chains up to the next level.

Alasha'an grimaces, looking down at her bare feet.  "I can make it," the elf tells Brugar grimly, stretching her injured side to be sure it's mended sufficiently before she too starts the long climb.

The heavy chains provide more than sufficient handholds and footholds for you to make the climb, even without rope, though it is hard going ... and almost ends in disaster for Brugar as, with a cry from above, Sir Sedakas Crane comes plummeting past him to lie broken upon the wreckage of the cage at the bottom of the shaft.

Nobody elects to climb back down to recover his body ... certainly not the Sentinel who, when you finally reach the top of the shaft at the mining level (the shaft above you rising another fifty feet to the prison cells level) stands angrily over two bodies, both pierced by daggers, some glistening substance obvious upon the blades.  Varl, nearby, looks terrified.

The first corpse is that of the bat that the Blackguard referred to as Shadowfang, the second a male Half-Orc, on the floor next to his outstretched hand lies a flat metal disc, about the size of a palm, on which is engraved, quite skillfully, the all-seeing eye that is the symbol of the Dark God Math Mathonwy, the Dark Savant.

"The priest and Crane's creature both slain !" the Sentinel snarls.

"WHO HAS DONE THIS ?!!" he demands.

"Oh, dear.  What a pity ..."  Hamin reponds to the sentinel's shout as he recovers the pick from his belt.  Bending down he draws the dagger from the half-orc, being very careful not to touch the substance on the blade.  Onece the blade is free,   the old warrior  inspects its, before wiping the substance off on the dead priest's clothes.

"Any good to you?" he asks Alasha'an, offering the dagger to her.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:53, Sun 02 Dec 2018.

Brugar growls angrily as he looks at the half-orc's body and around at the surrounding area. Then with hammer in hand he starts searching the area for any clue to where the assailant had attacked from.

OOC: LOL - as if Brugar is going to find anything!
Brugar Armbuster rolled 9 using 1d20.  Search check.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 1 using 1d20-1.  Spot check.

Hamin's insincerity draws an angry look from the Sentinel, but gains the one-eyed warrior a grin from Alasha'an as the Elf nods and gratefully accepts the dagger, though she too is careful not to touch the blade.

Not knowing if the person or persons who slew the priest and the bat-creature still lurk near nor if they mean you harm, Brugar looks about earnestly, but sees no sign of them.

The Sentinel shakes his head.  "It matters not, I suppose.  Crane, all of this was intended only to get me close to the one who imprisoned me and took my place.  And that has not changed."

So saying, he turns his back on the corpses and begins to climb once more.  Varl seems reluctant to follow after him, looking to you entreatingly.

"I've seen that before," Ayas waits to speak until the Sentinel has begun his climb, trusting the noise of the clashing chains will mask his words as he points at the symbol of Math.

"That was in Midnight's cell."

Brugar nods slowly to signify he understood what Ayas was saying, then shrugs and points upwards.

"That still be the only way out of 'ere, Ah reckon."

He tucks his hammer away again, grabs the chains and starts climbing once more.

Hamin sighs, unsurprised that Midnight, or any of the others that appeared to be favoured prisoners are followers of Math. That is the way of the Dark Gods, and one of the reasons that the party were here.

He glances across, briefly, at his daughter, and then after a quick look down, back the way they have come, he shrugs and starts up the chain again.

It might be the way out, but there was a job to do first.

Yetta carefully takes the dagger out of the bat, also showing due caution about the blade and wiping the glistening substance off.  She nods her understanding of Ayas's warning, and quietly picks up and pockets the symbol, as well.  She gives Varl an encouraging smile, saying, "Come on.  At least some of us will probably make it through this," she says, as reassuringly as she can, before joining the others back on the chains.

"Midnight was well compensated for providing that," Varl growls, much more confident without the Sentinel's gaze upon him, though he but glances at the pocket wherein Yetta concealed the token of Math.

"She'll suffer if she's betrayed us."

He too begins the climb.

Mercifully, the climb up to the cell block level of the prison is but fifty feet or so, a blessing for muscles already tired from the days labours and more recent efforts.  Better too, the heat grows less oppressive the higher you climb, though balancing this, the noise of rioting and fighting above rings ever louder in your ears.

Finally you gain the landing ... and look about the main cavern to see a massacre underway.   Fifteen prisoners lie dead or dying (and you note none with a collar yet stands), though they are joined in death by four of the guards.

The chains above you rattle as the Sentinel from the cells far below continues his climb, though Varl wavers, obviously shocked to see the slaughter before him, uncertain whether to remain with you or follow on upwards.

Eight prisoners and seven Sentinels remain, the advantage in this battle obviously by far in the guards' favour.  Karl, the greybeard who greeted you, and Talorna, one of Yetta's cellmates, also known to Ayas,  are amongst the dead, though Corrin, the scared old man, is nowhere to be seen.  A few lone prisoners here and there strive desperately to hold off the relentless Sentinels, but the main knot of fighting is around Midnight and her gang who rally around her, and it is towards them that any remaining Sentinels are heading ...

... or at least that was their aim, until they notice your arrival !

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

"Us?" Who is Us?" Hamin asks Varl as he climbs out of the hole and looks across at the nearest Sentinel.  "I am warning you, I am not in a good mood." he says turning towards the sentinel and closing  as he speaks.  But Hamin doesn't wait for a response, and swings his Heavy Pick as soon as he is in range.

"So if Math has lost control of this place, who is in charge now?  Or is it just some local infighting?"  he shouts loudly at the sentinel in front of him - although the question is, perhaps, directed at Varl - or anyone else who might know the answer.

While Hamin attacks the sentinel to the east, Brugar bellows like a beast as rage engulfs him and he charges at the sentinel to the north, swinging his heavy hammer in a murderous blow aimed at the man's head.

OOC: Brugar raging.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 20 using 1d20+13.  To hit with pick heavy hammer, charging, raging, power attack 5.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 23 using 1d8+20.  Heavy hammer damage, 2-handed, raging, power attack.

"Us ... him," Varl decides nervously, his gaze flicking between Hamin and Brugar, "Vaden Kiang.  The old abbot.  And Crane and Urgos, but they're both dead now."

"The riot was supposed to cover our ... their escape," Varl seems to be coming to realise that he was of as little importance to the ringleaders in the scheme as all the other prisoners who have died here.

"Kiang has gone to kill Rao Chang, the one who replaced him."

Looking about, Varl finally decides to throw in his lot with you, pulling a thin metal bar from his tunic and brandishing it as he steps forward after the one-eyed warrior to face the Sentinel.

Ayas quickly scans the chamber, looking for Corrin, but does not find him.. and is uncertain whether to be pleased or concerned at that.

But now is not the time to look for the old man, nor to waste breath on words, for it seems obvious that the Sentinels seem both willing and able to kill all the prisoners, despite whatever orders they may have to the contrary.

Reaching into a pocket for a scrap of cobweb that he'd found and kept, and then reaching for the magics that were his birthright regained now that damnable collar was off him, the elf conjures a many-layered mass of sticky threads into being, aiming to blanket the Sentinels fighting with Midnight's gang, as well as the lady herself whom he considers the worse threat of the two.

OOC: cast Web, SW area of chamber

"Which one of those dead men we left below was the brains behind this escape?" Alasha'an asks wryly as she surveys the slaughter all around, still a little unsteady on her feet.

Eyeing the dagger in her hand without much enthusiasm, the elf elects to follow Brugar.

"Suppose I ought to keep the dwarf out of trouble, at least until someone explains to me who I'm supposed to be killing."

A certain group of wizards would be top of that list..

Hamin grins as Varl joins in, "Stick with us, and there will be a chance to get out of here.  Although we have a couple of scores to settle first ...".
This message was lightly edited by the player at 17:00, Tue 18 Dec 2018.

As Varl moves over to join Hamin, Yetta decides to go straight south, to keep the Sentinel there from finishing off his last opponent and coming up behind them.  She moves cautiously, dagger in one hand, chisel in the other, reaching just a few feet away.  Grinning at the guard, she says cheerfully, "I'm coming for you!"

Hamin barely pauses before striding towards the nearest Sentinel to slam his heavy pick into the man's side.  Having elected to join you, Varl struggles to catch up, but proves his worth, striking the guard's shoulder with a heavy blow from the metal bar he wields.  Between the pair, they manage to knock their foe off balance, the punches he throws their way failing to connect.

Brugar's approach is more reckless than relentless.  Leaving Alasha'an to trail in his wake (the Elf considering but rejecting the shortest route, choosing not to trample over the dead and dying, at least not bare-footed as she is), the Dwarf gives full rein to the rage that grips him, racing across the short distance to another of the Sentinels, leaving Alasha'an to but watch on as he embeds his pick deep in the man's chest, further bloodying his tunic and dropping him to the ground in a crunch of bone, ne'er to rise again.

Relishing the magic that once more courses through his veins, Ayas covers the knot of prisoners and guards to the south east with a thicket of webs that entangle the group, only Midnight and one of the Sentinels able to avoid being immobilised, but even so, both remain trapped within the mass of sticky strands.

Seeing another of the Sentinels engaged in battle with a big Half-Orc, Yetta heads their way, her warning perhaps lacking much of the grimness of her father's utterance, but no less menacing for all it is cheerfully given.  Yet it only serves to spur the woman on, as she slams her fist into the prisoner's face, snapping his head back and felling him.  For a moment the guard surveys the corpse before turning Yetta's way.

The remaining Sentinel, in the north east of the chamber, misses the first of his foes, and manages only a glancing blow to the chest of the second, and easily dodges the clumsy blows aimed his way in return.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brigade bellows an incoherent roar of triumph as the northern sentinel falls to his hammer blow, then looks around wildly for another foe. He spots the western sentinel standing strong against two prisoners, so Brugar hurries west-south-westward to attack that sentinel from the southeast. Again his heavy hammer crashes down on the sentinel with murderous force.

OOC: Brugar rolled 27 to hit for 28hp damage on the sentinel.

Stepping in to strike, Yetta jabs towards the Sentinel's throat with her chisel, as her dagger swipes lower across his stomach.

Hamin side-steps away from Varl, making it easy for Varl to step the other way and get on the other side of the sentinel. Then pick in one hand and hammer in the other, he unleases his full fury against the, presumably math worshipping, guard.

"These don't swing as well as my pole ..." he grumbles at the unfavoured weapons in his hands.

Like a feral beast sniffing out his prey, Brugar's maddened eyes alight upon the Sentinel by the western passage who battles against two other prisoners.  As the Dwarf races across the chamber, the Sentinel delivers a crushing blow which snaps back the head of one of the pair, dropping him to the cold stone flags ... but joins his victim in death scant seconds later as Brugar's weapon slams into his skull, the remaining prisoner wild-eyed raising his hands as if to ward off the angry Dwarf.

To the south of the chamber, Yetta lunges at the Sentinel's throat ... but her swing is but a feint, getting him off balance as a moment later she guts him with her dagger, stepping back as he collapses.

Hamin makes do with the weapons he has, but he lacks the rhythm and finesse that he has with his polearm, though he still manages to land one solid blow with the pick that suffices to slay his opponent, distracted as the Sentinel is as Varl moves into position behind him, though his metal bar strikes unnecessarily.

Alasha'an and Ayas scan the chamber ... but the only Sentinels left standing are the three entangled within the webs that the young mage wove.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Again Brugar bellows an incoherent roar of triumph as the western sentinel falls to his hammer blow, then looks around wildly for another foe. This time the next target is much closer, only ten feet away to the south. If Brugar even registers the presence of the webs entangling the sentinel he gives no sign of it as he steps close enough to bludgeon the sentinel repeatedly with his heavy hammer.

OOC: 5ft step south then attack twice at the sentinel (still raging, power attack 5).
Brugar Armbuster rolled 26 using 1d20+11.  Attack #1 with hammer, raging, power attack 5.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Attack #2 with hammer, raging, power attack 5.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 25 using 1d8+20.  Heavy hammer damage #1, 2-handed, raging, power attack.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 27 using 1d8+20.  Heavy hammer damage #2, 2-handed, raging, power attack.

Not quite so well-placed as Brugar, Hamin makes his way towards the nearest of the remaining sentinels - and stops 5 feet away.  He hefts his weapons and grins coldly at   the guard, making it very clear what is going to happen next .....

The elf's lip quirks in a  smile as she turns to see Brugar and Hamin mopping up the last few sentinels, though she elects not to join in the fun, instead joining Ayas at the edge of the lift-shaft, eyeing the chains that lead up, assumedly to freedom.

"Let them take care of it," Alasha'an tells her kinsman. "I've been ill.. and I'm not used to working with cutlery!" She holds up the dagger contemptuously.

Brugar's hammer strikes so fast that the Sentinel before him has time neither to struggle or cry out, the sticky strands of web holding as fast in death as they did in life.

Hamin's slower approach, however gives the remaining two Sentinels the opportunity to loose themselves, but though the pair struggle with all their might, neither manages to break free.

Ayas and Yetta take Alasha'an's advice, as the Elf eyes the chains above her, pondering what the old abbot is up to.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar roars in triumph again and stalks around to the next webbed sentinel. His heavy hammer swings high once more and crashes down on the next sentinel's head.

Brugar Armbuster rolled 21 using 1d20+11.  To hit with hammer, raging, power attack 5.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 27 using 1d8+20.  Heavy hammer damage, 2-handed, raging, power attack.

Seeing Brugar's determination, Hamin stays out of the Dwarf's way and steps past the first sentinel, before  attacking the second.

----------

10:49, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 19 using 1d20+11.  Pick1.
10:51, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 7 using 1d6+4.  Pic D 1.
10:50, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 29 using 1d20+11.  hammer1.
10:51, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 7 using 1d4+4.  hammer d1.
10:50, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 19 using 1d20+6.  Pick2.
10:51, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 9 using 1d6+4.  pick d2.
10:50, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 10 using 1d20+6.  Hammer2.
10:51, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 5 using 1d4+4.  hammer d2.

Yetta nods towards the mass of webbing.  "That's nice," she says, appreciatively.  "How do we get the rest of them out of it, though?"

"The webs will last for an hour or so," Ayas confides quietly to Yetta.  "Though I can get rid of them at any time. If you think that's wise.."

Brugar and Hamin dispatch the last of the two Sentinels with ease, the Dwarf's brutal blow unlike the precise, military thrusts of the one-eyed warrior, but both approaches proving equally effective.

With the guards gone, the five prisoners (including Midnight) trapped in Ayas's conjured webs call upon you to free them.  One other prisoner has survived, a pale human male who watches you warily, while Varl moves closer to Ayas and Alasha'an by the cage, as the Elven Sorcerer quietly discusses his spell with Yetta.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar shouts and stamps around the cavern looking for more enemies to slay. Finding no more he gradually calms down and sighs tiredly as the adrenalin surge dissipates, although he still glances suspiciously at the surviving prisoners.

Finally convinced the fun is over he begins searching the bodies of the dead sentinels for anything valuable, useful or informative.

Yetta shrugs.  Also responding quietly, she says, "I really don't think Midnight is a good friend to have, but I'm certain she's a bad enemy to have, so unless we're prepared to murder them, which I'm not... it's probably better to leave things on a friendlier note."

Once Hamin has dispatched his Sentinel, he leaves Brugar to prowl around and moves back to join the others.  "Varl?  Tell us  about Midnight.  We know she is a devotee on Math, but what do you know of her?  Oh, and are those her cronies with her?" he asks quietly.

Your erstwhile ally's eyes flicker to the group in the webs, his gaze not lingering as he sees who is trapped within.

"Three of them are hers, one is not, but like inclined to follow her lead," Varl suggests, keeping his voice low in turn.  "The other one," he inclines his head slightly to the remaining prisoner, the only one not trapped, "most like she'd have one of her own stick him, if he gets in her way but pay him no thought otherwise."

"I'd not say she's a devotee - none of us are, merely pragmatic.  If you're not for them then it's your blood on the altar.  She arranged for the symbol to be fashioned, but the Covenant were paid well for that.  But Midnight, she's the Shadowmaster, the leader of the Covenant of the Knife.  You don't want to cross her !"

"I'd get them out of there while she's still in a mood to show gratitude."

"The covenant of the knife ...." Hamin queries.

Varl's brow furrows as Hamin repeats his words, but understanding slowly dawns, at least to the fact that the title means naught to any of you.

"A guild of thieves and murderers ... the true power behind many a ruler's seat," he explains.  "Half of what is ascribed to them is but myth, the rest does not go far enough."

Ayas looks to Hamin for a decision as to whether he should dismiss his spell, trusting the one-eyed warrior's judgment, as he and Yetta discuss the matter with an increasingly nervous Varl.

As usual, Alasha'an lets it seem as if she cares not one way or the other, unimpressed by either threat or reputation, while Brugar, finding no more foes to slay for the moment, comes down from his killing rage, quickly searches the bodies of the nearest fallen Sentinels, finding to his disgust that they carry no more than those pointy-edged throwing stars upon them.

Brugar rejoins his friends with nothing but a small sack of spikey throwing stars to show for his trouble.

"If'n they'll fight with us an' not against us, so we all win our way out of 'ere the sooner, then Ah reckon ye can let 'em loose," he suggests.

"They still wear collars ..." Hamin muses, "And we can't trust their word, whether they give it or not.  Might as well cut them free, anyway.  They'll likely die soon enough anyway."

Ayas seeks to hide his misgivings as he dismisses his spell, the sticky strands vanishing into the nothingness from whence they came.

The remaining prisoners eye you warily, a couple of them (including one fellow with a limp who is the only one of those left who wears one of the iron collars) starting towards you before they are halted in their tracks as Midnight calls out.

"Leave them !" not much in the way of volume behind those words, but a great deal of not so thinly veiled menace, more than sufficient that even in the dying fires of the life and death battle just fought to pull them up short, even before it dawns on them just who it is who bids them cease.

"Well, well, it seems this mouse has friends with claws," Midnight's silken tones are directed towards Yetta, though she inclines her head and sketches a theatrical curtsy towards Hamin and Brugar.

"Why thank you kind sirs !" she smiles at the man and the Dwarf, a note of gratitude in her voice that belies her mocking tone.

"And I see you are no longer so ill-disposed," Midnight raises an arched brow at Ayas.  "And have made new friends too ..."

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Hamin raises his weapons, and a thin grin cuts his face as the newly freed prisoners start towards them, but allows them to fall into a less threatening position when Midnight calls her soldiers off.

”You are welcome.” the one eyed warrior replies to Midnight’s thanks, but then continues ”Friends can be difficult to come by, especially in a dangerous place like this.  And what, might I ask, are your intentions now that you are freed from the cells and the collars?”

As he speaks, he moves back towards his friends by the great hole, his eyes only leaving Midnight's party to occasionally dart towards the lone survivor from the other group.

Brugar offers a wary nod of acknowledgement to Midnight's thankyou but says nothing. He moves back with Hamin to join the rest of their friends as they wait for Mighnight's reply to hamin's question.

Yetta shrugs.  "Speaking of claws," she says, flipping the dagger in her hand and holding it out towards Midnight hilt-first, "I heard this one might be yours."  She steps forward to hand it to her, largely ignoring the sycophants surrounding her.

Brugar shrugs and follows Yetta's example. He opens the bag of throwing stars and tips out a couple on the floor.

"Any of you lot use these things?" he asks.

"It's actually a bit inconvenient," Midnight smiles at Hamin with a warmth that might even be real.

"Unlike the rest of you ne'er-do-wells, I was here by choice.  Made a good hiding place for a while.  But that'll change now - either our guards will rally and slay us all, else help will arrive in force and we'll all die later."

"I've got my mark ..." she shrugs.  This throwaway comment, clearly just a small matter, an almost inconsequential detail to the notorious Shadowmaster of the Covenant, suggests that at least one of the deaths this evening was if not at her hands then at least by her order.

"... and you're scarcely to blame for the riot and what followed."

"So I think me and mine will be taking our leave ... why thank you, kitten," Midnight reaches for the dagger Yetta proffers, her hand freezing in mid-air as she notes the glistening substance upon the blade.  "The old man has been busy," she mutters, as her hand closes on the hilt, nodding her thanks, smile back in place.

The remaining prisoners scrabble on the floor for the throwing stars that Brugar scatters, like beggars snatching up coins, though none offer the Dwarf so much as a nod of gratitude let alone give voice to a thank you.

Brugar dumps the rest of the throwing stars at the feet of Midnight's men.

"The only way out be up, ain't it? So looks like we be going the same way for a while at least. So, let's be at it then," he suggests.

He heads for the hole, clearly intending not to be the last one out.

Hamin follows Brugar's lead and moves towards the chain, but continues his conversation with Midnight.  "I trust we won't get in each others way? That could make it very inconvenient for all of us." he  comments dourly, "But is there anyone you would like us to look out for?  We are liable to be fairly indiscriminate, regarding our treatment of anyone who looks as if they could be a guard, or gets in our way."

Unsure of Midnight's loyalties to any factions within the prison, Hamin decides not to make it clear that they won't be leaving until the party has recovered the items taken from them, they have had a 'discussion' with the mage that trapped them - and that they are sure their original goals have either been met, or can't be achieved here.

"You want our help, you just have to ask nicely," Midnight smiles seductively at Hamin, "otherwise me and mine will just keep our heads down till it's all quiet up above."

"If you don't know how to use those then leave them," she calls out to the other prisoner as they scamble for the throwing stars that Brugar provides, obviously irritated either at their greed or stupidity.

Hamin grins back at Midnight, his bared teeth, missing eye and bald head making a less than good-looking sight. "Ah, you misunderstood me."  Hamin says quietly  "I was being nice.  That was advice not to get in our way.  It would be a shame to kill you and your ...  errr ... friends after having 'saved' you.  And also an offer to leave your mark for you.  Bound, gagged and helpless of course.  But if you guys are going to stay skulking around down here, it isn't really important.  Is it?" Hamin asks rhetorically.

The Shadowmaster of the Covenant smiles back at Hamin, not in the least intimidated, at least not that she shows any sign of.

"My mark is already dead," she informs the one-eyed warrior. "And we wouldn't dream of being so ungrateful as to get in your way."

She raises a hand sardonically towards the elevator shaft.  "All yours.  Be as indiscreet as you like up there.  Have fun."

Brugar has one last suggestion for Midnight's men.

"If'n ye need practice with them throwin' stars, Ah reckon them Sentinels'd be great for target practice, now they ain't jumpin' about so much!"

Brugar secures his hammer under his belt and starts climbing. He chuckles to himself as he climbs.

"Discretion, and indeed diplomacy, have never been my strong points," Hamin admits "And I think there are very few who think I am fun to be around ...  But that isn't the point." he concludes after a short pause.  The he sketches a very slight bow.

"Now, good day to you madam.  Oh. And have a good day."  With that he follows Brugar to the chain and starts to make his way upwards.

Midnight offers Hamin no further word of goodbye as the one-eyed warrior takes his leave, though whether she is cowed or intrigued by his boldness, the small smile that dances upon her lips does not reveal for certain, though more than one of the prisoners that clutch a handful of the throwing stars snort with good humour at the Dwarf's jest.

As you all begin your ascent of the shaft towards the surface, Midnight is quick to rally those prisoners who yet remain.

"Join us or not," you hear her offer the one prisoner who was not already aligned to her.  "Everyone look around, take whatever you can find that will be useful - food, tools.  Nyrria, you're with me - we need to find the old man."

Her words fade away amid the clanking of the dangling chains as you climb the shaft.  Towards the surface you may climb, yet what little light that remains in this harsh world of mists and shadow has now gone as night has swooped down.

The top of the shaft is a tower, the mechanisms that lift and lower the now broken steel cage suspended above you as you reach ground level, resting easily on the chains as you wait for your eyes to adjust.  Alasha'an and Yetta slip out into the darkness, crouching by the support ropes and cables as you take in the lie of the land, Ayas and Varl (who seemingly still favours his chances by sticking with you) hanging back warily.

Around the area are four watch towers, looming in the near darkness, while just to your north lie a cluster of buildings, gathered about a central courtyard.  The buildings' doors are flung wide open, torchlight from the chambers within spillout out to reveal a trail of corpses leading to the northenmost of the structures where the Sentinel that you freed from below, now more beast than man, battles two of his counterparts, dropping one with a series of lightning fast punches while easily dodging the blows of the other.

"Come out and face me Rao Chang !" he demands.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Hamin takes the scene in, as he recovers his breath from the climb.  "Should we leave them to their games, and explore one of the towers?" he asks his colleagues.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:44, Sun 24 Feb 2019.

Brugar shrugs noncommittally.

"If'n ye want, longshanks, though Ah reckon as our gear'd be in that big place, more'n likely," he replies, keeping his voice low.

"Probably." Hamin  agrees with Brugar.  "So shall we take a slow stroll over that way, instead?"

"Give me a moment.." the elf concentrates as she slowly surveys the towers and buildings, before her gaze finally settles on the north-eastern corner of the main complex.

"That way," Alasha'an advises, raising her arm to point a finger in that direction.  "At least that's where the bastards put my sword."

Hamin grins, his one eye glistening.   "Suits me." Someone, soon, is going to feel the full extent of his annoyance and frustration.

You make your way over to the door to the eastern building, cautiously picking your way past the bodies of the fallen Sentinels.

Yetta is first to get there, lithely leaping up through the opening, rather than slowing for the two steps that lead up to the entrance, and by the time the rest of you cross the threshold, she is already kneeling by a steel reinforced door at the upper end of the room, examining the lock. 

The room itself is completely bare, save for rows of prayer mats and several bronze incense burners.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar just glances around the room quickly before hurrying forward to join Alasha'an at the steel-bound door. He runs his eye over the stonework around the door looking for anything that doesn't look right (although not really expecting to see anything amiss) and stands ready with his heavy hammer in case it might be needed.

OOC: Brugar Armbuster rolled 7 using 1d20+1.  Search (stonecunning).

Hamin shepherds everyone else into the building before him, and the lounges by the door, keeping an eye on whatever is going on outside.  After all, he isn't going to be much help with  the door, but he is an excellent rear-guard.

Yetta sighs, standing up.  "Isn't there supposed to be some rule about how after the prisoners have fought their way through the tower of guards, their stuff is kept in a clearly marked box in the middle of the floor or something?" she asks.  "That's a really good lock - way beyond me, even if I had the right tools."

Hamin shrugs, it was never going to be that straightforward.  "Have you still got the hammer and chisel?" The old warrior asks Brugar, "Going through the wall might be a better option ..."

"Aye, bit noisy an' slow, though," Brugar mutters. "Keys tend to be quicker an' quieter. Reckon as one of them sentinels'd 'ave the key for this 'ere locked door."

He jerks his thumb in the general direction of the fight out in the courtyard.

"Worth a try." Hamin agrees, and makes his way outside to pick over the bodies - starting with any that look as if they might be senior, and working his way down the pecking order.

"I had a key," Alasha'an grinds her teeth, glowering at the solid door. "It'll be in there.."

"Give me that wire," the elf asks Yetta, "I'll give it a go. Might get lucky."

She stoops to examine the lock for herself.  "Very lucky!" she mutters, resignedly.

"I might be able to blast it open," Ayas suggests. "But that would be noisy too."

Alasha'an' tries the lock, but soon gives it up as a bad job, acknowledging with a grim nod that Yetta had the right of it. Given long enough and luck enough the Elf might manage to finesse the mechanism, but the look she gives the door indicates she instead favours the brute force approach that Hamin suggested.

Though now the one-eyed warrior bows to Brugar's wish to keep things quiet.  While he's big and not much given to creeping around, there are none still living in the courtyard to see as Hamin strides over to the nearest corpses, merely sparing a glance at the northernmost building where the Sentinel you freed and the two of his former comrades that yet stand trade kicks and punches.  But his gaze does not linger long before he squats down to search the bodies.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Hamin glances up, looking at the outside of the tower, to see if there is another way in, before moving across to the next set of bodies.

Brugar joins Hamin outside to assist with the search.

"Ah recall summat what Karl said a while back - the new abbot would have the key. Used to be second in command. Reckon as 'e'd be one of them fellas kickin' the shite outa each other over there. D'ye reckon we oughta go 'elp the one who called ye brother?" he asked.

"I am getting fed up with this corpse searching ..." replies

"Try blasting it open, then," Alasha'an tells Ayas as she jumps down to the ground to join Hamin and Brugar. "I don't think the noise will matter much now!"

"You coming or staying?" she asks Yetta.

The elf eyes the dagger in her hand with resignation.

"Let's go kill someone.." she suggests to her friends with a grim smile as she heads towards the north building.

Yetta gives an almost identically resigned look to the small chisel in hers.  "I'd really hoped to have our stuff back first," she grumbles.  "I miss my swords."  She starts walking alongside Alasha'an.  "The whole time we've been here I kept thinking, who am I going to stab first when I get my swords back?  And it turns out by the time I do, we'll already have stabbed them all."  She sighs melodramatically.  "They're missing out on all the fun," she says, finally, having talked her way round to a better mood, or at least the semblance of it.

Ayas exchanges a glance with Varl, then shrugs reaching into the pocket of his rags for a handful of small stones that he's hidden there.  Selecting a few, the young man reaches for the gift that is his birthright as he throws the stones towards the solid door..

OOC: Magic Missile

With no other way in revealing itself, Hamin crosses to where another pile of broken bodies lie.  Brugar joins him, but even with the Dwarf's help, the one-eyed warrior finds nothing on the corpses save for their robes and sandles.

As Brugar looks towards where the Sentinels are fighting, Alasha'an and Yetta head purposefully towards them, neither woman happy with the weapons they hold, but ready and willing to use them.

There is a crack as a power blow from the Sentinel you rescued finally fells one of his opponents, though he in turn growls like the beast he has become, as he reels from a kick to his ribs delivered by the remaining Sentinel, assumedly the one named Rao Chang that he sought.

The stones that Ayas hurls towards the locked door are transformed mid-air by his magic, becoming glowing balls of pure mystical energy that slam into the portal.  Despite the young man's concerns about the noise, there is precious little ... and barely a scratch on the metal as the magic fades.

In the northern building, the beast-like Sentinel manages to dodge another punch from his rival ... though it is a close thing, making it now obvious that his victories have come at a price while his opponent is as yet unharmed.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

"Shall we?" Hamin grins at Brugar, "It would be rude to let the ladies dance alone ..." although he doesn't wait for a reply and just sets off after Yetta and Alasha'an.

Brugar is hot on Hamin's heels.

"'Ope 'e don't mind sharin'," is the only comment he offers as he heads for the fight with heavy hammer in hand.

And battle is joined once more.

Alasha'an and Yetta are closer and arrive first, the Elf circling around to the rear to lunge at Rao Chang with her dagger, but trips over the corpse at her feet, and barely manages to keep her footing.  Yetta is more cautious, but finds herself having to duck under the claws of the beast-Sentinel as he slashes wildly at his foe, careless of any harm to those now joining in the fight, and her chisel too fails to find its mark.

Hamin and Brugar draw close, but hang back a moment, just out of range as they look for an opening.

The beast-Sentinel, despite his injuries, unleashes a flurry of blows, landing two solid punches that rock Rao Chang, his claws opening up a bloody cut on the man's head.  His opponent looks about him, but sees no escape and resignedly continues to fight, concentrating his punches and kicks at the man who was his predecessor, ignoring Alasha'an and Yetta for the moment, though the beast-Sentinel seems to find renewed strength now he faces the one he hates above all, and manages to either avoid or shrug off the blows.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ... the Beast-Sentinel stands to the south, between Brugar and Yetta, while Rao Chang is north of Yetta with the black outline (and you can move into the square with the fallen body)

Hamin frowns. "Move round." he urges Alasa'an and Yetta, knowing full well that both women understand the advantages of flanking an opponent.  After all, he taught one of them, himself!

OOC:  Hold action  until the Alasha'an attacks and steps 5 feet forwards, to leave good space.

Brugar follows Hamin's lead and waits for the right moment to attack Rao Chang. Hopefully space will open up to allow both of them to enter the fight.

Brugar Armbuster rolled 22 using 1d20+14.  Attack #1 with hammer.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 28 using 1d20+9.  Attack #2 with hammer.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 14 using 1d8+7.  Hammer damage #1, two-handed.
Brugar Armbuster rolled 15 using 1d8+7.  Hammer damage #2, two-handed.

Alasha'an complies, forgoing the sarcastic remarks for the moment, as she stabs at Rao Chang's back with her dagger.

Yetta was indeed well trained and moreover learned never to announce your intent.. she too takes a step to the side, though times her move so that she can distract their badly outnumbered opponent while Alasha'an strikes at him, then gets into position to do the same for her father, as much to keep away from the reckless swings of the Sentinel who is ostensibly their ally, thrusting her chisel at Rao Chang to keep his attention, if nothing else.

Hamin grins and steps into the gap vacated by Alasha’an to takes  best advantage of Yetta’s movement.  Then he rains a series of blows, from his heavy pick  and light hammer, onto the beleaguered sentinel.

-------------

06:50, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 20 using 1d20+13.  Pick 1 w Flank - .
06:52, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 5 using 1d6+4.  Dam p1.

06:50, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 14 using 1d20+13.  Hammer 1 w flank.
06:52, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 7 using 1d4+4.  dam h1.

06:51, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 25 using 1d20+8.  Pick 2 w Flank.
06:52, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 9 using 1d6+4.  dam p2.

6:51, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 11 using 1d20+8.  Hammer 2 w Flank.
06:52, Today: Hamin Carmine rolled 7 using 1d4+4.  dam h2.

Which, I suspect, was hardly worth it.

After the frustration of being captured and imprisoned, battle comes as something of a release, even with but what poor tools and makeshift weapons as you've been able to gather.

Alasha'an and Yetta distract Rao Chang, the Elf managing to stick her dagger into his vitals, allowing Hamin and Brugar to rush in, raining down blow after blow upon the Sentinel's Abbot.  The one-eyed warrior's blows are precise, calculated, while those of the Dwarf are less so, but equally effective.

As you step back, Rao Chang collapses to the floor, already dead, though this does not stop the beast-Sentinel, your ally, from continuing to kick and punch the corpse, leaving it battered and bloodied, as he finally straightens and howls in triumph, struggling to bring himself back under control.

Now you are done, you have a moment to check on your surroundings.  Somewhat fittingly, you find yourselves in what must be a training hall, where your guards did hone their fighting skills.  There are several weapons racks such as monks might use, though not what you are used to, and ten wooden fighting dummies that show many signs of repair.  The shuttered windows open up to afford a view of the courtyard outside, now littered with the bodies that the beast-Sentinel left in his wake.

OOC: Map of the proceedings updated ...

Brugar bends down to begin searching the body to find the key to the locked door of the strong room. He will start with checking whether it might be on a cord around Rao Chang's neck.

As Brugar starts searching the Body, Hamin stands guard.  He doesn't trust the werewolf as far as he could throw the beast, even though they are 'packmates'.

The beast-Sentinel regains control, his features becoming human once more as the man masters the beast within.  Indeed, it seems that with his transformation his wounds have healed somewhat for he now seems much stronger than he did but moments ago.

"Thank you ... brother," he smiles, noting Hamin's interest and inclining his head.  While his manner remains imperious, he does seem genuinely grateful.

"That ... fool who took my place would have left me down their to rot, but now I have my vengeance and my freedom."  He looks around the room and out into the courtyard.  "This was once mine to command ... but there is naught for me here now - I am undoubtedly as much a wanted man as any of you or the other scum who were sent here."

"I appreciate your assistance ... but I suggest you do not linger here long.  Sooner or later the Dark Elves will come and they'll not be pleased with what they find."

Brugar's search of the body does not take long - it seems the Sentinel's leader lived almost a simple an existence as those he led, though he does have leather bracers upon his wrists, what seems to be a bear's claw on a leather thong about his neck, a simple rope belt around his waist ... and, much to the Dwarf's satisfaction, a ring of keys in his pocket.

"You're welcome." Hamin replies automatically, although his eyes are drawn to Brugar's search of the corpse. "Dark Elves? Eh?  I don't suppose there is a portal, or such like, that gets us out of here?" he asks the sentinel while he is still feeling a bit grateful.  "Although, ideally, we would like to have a 'discussion' with the mage who trapped us in the pit, before we leave."

Brugar passes the items to Yetta and Alasha'an as he removes them from Rao Chang's body then stands up with a very satisfied grin visible through his beard when he finds the keys.

"First things first, longshanks. We get our gear back!" he reminds Hamin.

"Oh, I am not going anywhere just yet.  And not before we have 'spoken' to a few more of the residents down here." Hamin replies, and it is clear from the  way he says 'Spoken' that the conversation will involve steel and probably a lot of blood.  "But it always good to have an idea of where the exits are, for when we do want to use them."

Yetta, meanwhile, steps back a little, watching Hamin.  "Right, well, it's been a lot of fun working together, hasn't it?" she asks, looking away from her father and stepping up to the Sentinel.  "But now that the prey has been dealt with, I still need a bite."  She holds her little chisel low and ready, tilting her head.  "Have I proven myself enough, or do you need something more personal?"

Brugar is keen to reclaim his armour and weapons (if indeed they do lie beyond the locked door), but Hamin and Yetta still have questions for the Sentinel.

"No," he tells the one-eyed warrior, his revenge and new-found freedom making him almost genial, "the only way out of here is on foot.  Our masters might occasionally use magics to spare themselves the effort of that journey, but lacking such abilities the rest of us must walk.

"You have yet to extract payment for debts incurred ?" he chuckles.  "By all means - I care not for any down there.  Slay them all if that is your pleasure.  Beware the Shadowmaster, though ... he is not so feeble as he seems."

Yetta's persistence surprises the Sentinel, however.  "Most view it as an affliction ... but when your blood rises to the call of the moon and you see the world through the senses of the beast and feel the fear of your prey, it is something truly beautiful."

"By all means, I have what I wanted now, and if that is your wish ..."

He holds out his hand to Yetta.

The dwarf is a bit slow to catch on but when he finally realises what Yetta and the sentinel are talking about he can’t help but stare.

“Well Ah’ll be ...  Brugared!” he mutters.

He is too stunned to do anything else but just stare at the three of them.

Alasha'an is equally stunned, but not so reticent as the Dwarf, and Brugar's mutterings impel her to give voice to her objections.

"I'm not one to talk.. but you cannot do this," the elf tells Yetta grimly. "Bad enough he's infected, but we'll deal with that once we're free and gone."

"Tell her," Alasha'an glares at Hamin. "It's a bad idea.." she prompts him.

Hamin deliberately turns his back on the sentinel, and gives all of his attention to his daughter.

" ...  And feel the fear of your prey ...  The peasant who can't run fast enough to stop you ripping the heart and stomach out of them, rending that human flesh to sate the bestial hunger that lurks inside of you.  The lack of control, perhaps when you need it most."  The distaste on Hamin's face is clear.  "There are those that this evil comes to, those who have no choice in the matter.  Those who are taken by the dark gods as their tools.  Those I can feel sympathy for and some sorrow.

However, those who choose to follow that path are a different matter.  Wilfully embracing the dark paths, knowing that they will kill for pleasure, knowing they will feed on the flesh of their own kind, their own flesh and blood if they are truly cursed.  Those people don't deserve any sympathy.  They are the people that I have spent a lifetime opposing, the people who destroyed my city, our people and the whole of the world we were born into.  The ones who took hope from the world.

They are the reason I followed you back into this new dark world, the reason we lost Saffaris and the others in the cold wastes of the north.  The reason for venturing into the citadel of the dead who wouldn't die.  They are the ones responsible for the hatred, war and subjugation in Talhamnoduin,  and the very reason we ventured into the gardens and eventually into this hell-hole.

They are what we ..." and he indicates Brugar and Alash'an "have fought to over come for as long as we have known each other, and we finished up travelling through time to continue the battle.  If you choose to join with the 'pack' you will be one of them, you will no longer be one of 'us' - and you will no longer be my daughter."

There is catch in his throat as he adds, "Eventually, I might have to kill you ..."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:19, Sat 27 Apr 2019.

Yetta's resolve holds as Brugar and Alasha'an speak, just giving the sentinel something of a, what's taking so long? Look.  But when Hamin speaks up, she winces, then spins to face him.

"Exactly!" she shouts, the beginnings of tears shining in her eyes.  She blinks those back, calming herself very, very slightly, her expression changing to more of a glare.  "You think I want the power?  I want to join the pack?" she asks, incredulously.  "You have it already!  And if we find a cure, great, it'll work for us both.  But if we don't, if you're trapped on that dark road... I'm not letting you go alone."  She shakes her head and stamps her foot, determined.

"You weren't supposed to come here.  I'm not losing you to this world again.  I--"  Her voice cracks, and she closes her eyes.  "I'm sorry.  I can't kill you.  I can't.  But I can stay with you, whether you want me or not."

Hamin goes almost white as he hears Yetta's reasoning, and an unusual type of stillness comes over him.   "No Yetta.   There is no certainty that the cure will ever work on a given person, and it is kill or cure.  If the 'cure' doesn't work for me, and for some reason it doesn't kill me, then these two will have to." he says  glancing briefly at Brugar and Alasha'an.  "I will have become a pawn of the dark gods, much like our ally here." and this time he absent-mindedly indicates the almost forgotten sentinel behind him, "They are my friends and won't let me fall to that sort of defeat.  Out of friendship and love, Brugar and Alasha'an will do me the service of not allowing me to fall to that sort of defeat that befell Melzakre.  Please don't take that chance.

If I fall, you must take my place and help release the consorts, or else the world will remain in darkness.  I have tasted that once, back when Kalibar sank into the greyness. Now, since I followed you out into this new age, we have the chance to avenge that defeat and bring the light back to the world.  Already the darkness is starting to lift.  We can succeed and we WILL succeed.  But only if we all work together and are prepared to make sacrifices.  Yours might be the hardest of all of us, but be strong. If you have to, you kill me, rather than letting me become a beast that ravages the countryside, a scourge of the countryside, a creature of the dark gods and the night.  Keep your soul and help me keep mine."

Hamin isn't good with words, and even now they are not well put together -  but his desperation and fears are clear to see.

"Please ...."

The elf's usual devils-may-care expression falls away as father and daughter plead with each other.. and she'll not force herself into that, but the Sentinel is a different matter.  Alasha'an nods grimly to Brugar as she turns to the Sentinel

"With respect, she says quietly to beastman. "You even try to bite her and I'll kill you myself.  Remember they locked me down there with you and with good reason.  I'm no wolf, but something worse than you once sunk its teeth into me and you don't want any part of that."

From the doorway, Ayas looks on, ready to aid his friends with his gift if needs be.

"You might want to stay back," he tells Varl. "Or run."

Brugar sighs ... and watches the Sentinel, ready to fight if it becomes necessary.

"I think you mistake me," the Sentinel turns his attention from the emotional discourse between father and daughter to address Alasha'an's threats. His manner remains cold, neither belligerent nor placatory.

"I am no rabid creature, swayed by the passions of blood as are Rhiannon's get. To do as this woman wishes or not matters nothing to me.  In this life one is either predator or prey, and that is not something I can gift, it is either in you or not."

"Nor do I follow the whims of the Dark Gods.  I do what I must to get by in this world.  I am master of myself and the beast within."

He looks to the skies, though it is certain his gaze can penetrate the mists no more than yours can, before looking to Hamin.

"The wolf that is in you.  It will rise with the call of the moon two nights from now.  When the change comes you will have no control over it and will feed even on the flesh of your friends or your own daughter. Thereafter, if your will is strong, you might resist the change, master it, though it will be hard, if not impossible at first.  In time you will learn to control it, to change when you choose, not when the rising moon demands it."

Yetta stares back into Hamin's eyes, head tilted back, trembling.  Finally, her shoulders drop.  "We had better beat it, then," she says, finally.

She gives the Sentinel a sideways look, and then turns more towards him, a slight grin twitching at the corners of her mouth.  "I'd say sorry for pulling you into this, but... you don't get pulled anywhere, do you?  So, thank you.  You've been as true an ally as we could have hoped for here."  There's certainly a bit of irony in that.  "And... for what you've told us, you have my gratitude, at least.  If we ever meet again, I hope it's not as enemies."

"That may be so." Hamin responds to the sentinel as he recovers his composure. "Although as you imply, you are particularly strong willed.  However, you also imply there are not surities of that in others.  If  I only have two days before I need to face that threat, then we must deal with this place quickly before I either face that challenge to my will power, or the challenges that are sure to come as I rid myself of the 'gift' passed to me by one of Rhiannon's pets.  So thank you for your help and guidance so far, but excuse us if we go to collect that which was taken from us.  I hope you manage to get out of here in on e piece."

With a curt nod towards the sentinel, he turns to the rest of the party, and asks, "Ready?".

Brugar watches the scene unfold and finally smiles when it ends peacefully.

He nods to the sentinel too and tells him, "Thank ye. Ah reckon as Ah be glad we be not enemies today an' all!"

Then he looks at Hamin.

"Aye, we be ready. Let's go."

With a nod to the sentinel, Hain leads the way back to the tower.

The Sentinel accepts both Yetta's decision and your thanks with good grace.

"If not for you I'd still be languishing in that cell, so I must thank you in turn.  If our paths do cross again, I will look to you as allies provided your goals and mind are not in conflict.  Though I do not hope for such a meeting for I fear chaos and destruction follow in your footsteps."

Staring down at the bodies at his feet for a moment of contemplation, the Sentinel turns to leave, though pauses for a moment, looking back to you.

"My name is Vaden Kiang, should you ever have cause to know it.  I wish you luck, whatever path you now tread."

This said, the Sentinel turns once more and walks away, soon to be lost in the mists.

With the key now in your possession, you make your way back to where Varl and Ayas await you.  Ever cautious, you check the door to the vault carefully, but when you find no evidence of traps, soon have it open.  Perhaps somewhat surprisingly your gear is intact and unpilfered.  Ayas in particular is pleased to recover both his pack and his gleaming staff fashioned from polished silver and capped with a simple gemstone.

No longer collared, the Adept is most keen to make use of the magics so long denied to him ... as well as your own possessions(some of which cause Ayas to raise his brows in surprise as his spell sweeps over them), he identifies the following items that radiate magic - a black iron greatsword with a hilt guard formed into the shape of jagged bat-like wings, three small black beads, a woolen cloak, a plain trumpet, a weighty tome, and a simple necklace, little more than a series of beads on a string with the ends tied.

Brugar and Varl seem equally adept at sniffing out gold, for the pair manage to find six heavy sacks, with, so the Dwarf reckons, about a thousand coins in each.

Brugar is delighted to have his gear back and wastes no time in donning his armour and settling weapons back in their accustomed places.

Only then does he look at his friends and ask, "Erm, what do we be doing next? We thought we were on the right track to find the so-called 'tower unsurpassed' where Math Mathonwy 'as 'idden 'is ward, but that ain't worked out as we 'oped, 'as it?"

He picks up the bat-winged black iron greatsword and taps the blade gently with his own enchanted dwarven war axe to make the blade ring with the clash of steel.

"Per'aps this be Morrigan's sword instead?" he laughs.

Yetta gladly recovers her own gear as well, taking a little time getting things sorted and set, finally putting on her hat and, with a soft sigh, settling back into the image she has grown more accustomed to seeing reflected back at her.

"I don't know.  Do you suppose a tower can go down?" she muses.  "I guess that's not very likely.  Vaden said the dark elves will be along at some point - we could pretend to be survivors and maybe they'd take us somewhere useful?" she suggests.

She does look interested, of course, as Ayas points out the things he's taken note of, seeming most curious about the various beads and the cloak, though the trumpet draws a more incredulous, "Who enchants a trumpet?  A lyre I can see, but... well, anyway, I can help figure out what they all are when we have time, but I don't think we want to sit here that long, whatever we're doing next."

"Oh!  Hey, speaking of time, things have been a little hectic.  Varl, Ayas, thank you both.  I'm Yetta.  It's nice to properly meet you both."  She offers the two a smile.

The young mage smiles almost shyly as Yetta formally introduces herself.

"Ayas," he offers in return. "Ayas Rocan, though my family name means little now - I've been.. away from my family for many long years."

"It will take time to see what magic lies within these objects," he agrees, "and this is not the place."

The discussion betwixt the young woman and the dwarf gives him pause, however.

"A tower? It was a tower that proved my undoing, and caused the death of my friend." Had so little time passed since Sully was slain?

"We were sent to offer what help we could to the Walkers, offer them refuge in Varna'yaluumea."

"But at Faugond we found only dust and ruin. We were chasing after ghosts," the elf shakes his head sadly, "yet when we returned to the surface.."

He pauses.  "I know magic, I know it in my bones. It is part of me. Yet even so I could scarce believe what I saw - a piece of the mountain flying slowly overhead, and atop that rock their stood a tower."

"And as it passed above we found ourselves pursued by dark elves.  My friend.. Suladriel.. sacrificed himself to save me, but his death only delayed the inevitable and I was caught and taken to Habmor'Anto.  I know not why they did not kill me too."

He breaks off.  The memory of his fallen friend still grieves the elf deeply.

Once Hamin has collected his equipment and dressed himself properly again, his lips curve into a thin smile.  He shrugs his armour properly into place then, finding a bit of space, twirls his pole arm a couple of times before nodding solemnly.

However, he had also been listening to Ayas as he spoke.  "That sounds like the sort of tower we are interested in.  Will you take us there?  But then, who sent you out?  And where is  Varna'yaluumea?  And how were you supposed to recognize the walkers?"

Then he turns to Varl, "You have probably realized that we aren't just going to leave quietly and someone, somewhere is going to get very hurt, very soon..." he grins thinly again "... Your best bet might be to stick with us until you can see a good opportunity to make a break for it.  But  make your break as soon as you safely can."

Ayas nods his head.  "We are probably around forty miles south of Faugond. It is the site of an old dwarf mine, but long since abandoned. There are dark elves in those hills, however, so we must take care."

"The flying crag on which the tower sits is ever moving.. but Sully believed that they must resupply it from somewhere thereabouts, so we have but to sit and wait.. and avoid capture if we can."

"The old man sent us.. Ilthuryn Vallen. He said that the seven stars that burned bright in the sky were a sign.  But we had to wait for the cold to come, to freeze the inland sea that we might cross over."

"It is around five hundred miles from there to here."

"Ilthuryn could only tell us that the walkers slept in the halls beneath Faugond.  Only their names survive now - the twins Farissa and Ryasta, Daughter and Demon-slayer; Vena the Drummer; Bruga and Callan, warriors bold, Bearers of Axe and Sword; and Lyshan the Quick."

"Bruga.. Brugar.." the young man looks to the dwarf in some puzzlement and trepidation. "Perhaps not a coincidence?"

Varl looks uncomfortable as he digests Hamin's words, trying to decide if they're a warning or a threat, but deciding on the former.

Nor does Ayas's talk of flying towers ease his mind.

"I know nothing of such things," he admits, casting a gaze that is avaricious, not proprietory over the contents of the vault, there being nothing there that he may lay claim to as his own.

"I did what I must to get by in this harsh world.  I've stolen and killed for coin.  The purposes you speak of are beyond such as me."

"Yet I threw in my lot with you and now I find myself free, so I count that as the best decision I ever made."

"Down there ... I was a dead man, either I'd have died in chains or when someone figured there was no reason for me to continue to draw breath, but now ..."

"To be blunt, I've nowhere to go.  Those I called friends would no doubt hand me over to the dark elves for the price of a cup of ale, so I've naught to lose by staying.  I fear I have no great destiny, but I'll do what I'll can and trust to the luck that caused our paths to cross to keep me alive a little longer."

Brugar grins at Ayas.

"Ah reckon ye be right, long-ears. No coincidence at all, an' no coincidence that ye bring the next piece of the puzzle we be tryin' to figure out. Never occurred to me that unsurpassed might mean it be lit'rally that far over our 'eads!"

He claps Varl on the back and says, "Well then, if'n ye be stayin' with us we better get ye kitted out in summat better'n them rags ye be wearin'. See what takes yer fancy in there. Ah'm not sayin' ye can can just 'elp yerself, mind, but show us what ye want an' we'll talk about it."

Then he turns to Hamin.

"Revenge be sweet an' all, but d'ye reckon there be much more 'ere to be gained from it? Ah reckon it be time to move on."

Unless there is some argument forthcoming Brugar will turn his attention to the other items in the vault to see if there is anything he fancies, as well.

"If this isn't the tower, then we don't need to be here." Hamin agrees with Brugar "But we thought the journey through the garden would bring us to the tower.  And we finished up here.  Instead it brought us to news of the tower, which is just as good.  True revenge comes when we defeat the dark gods and light rules the world again."

He also nods at the suggestion that Varl needs kitting out properly, and looks around the vault to see if there are any non-magical items that can be presses into service.

"Think I even noticed some clothes in decent shape," Yetta notes to Varl.  "Dusty, but it looks like even the moths stay away from this place.  But if you're planning to stay with us... we're not going anyplace safe.  That's just not what we do."

She smiles at Ayas.  "Flying tower sounds like just the thing.  I'm sorry about your friend, though."

The young adept's eyes widen at Brugar's admission and he nods slowly, with renewed respect.

"The rest of you then.. are you also named in the prophesy? You would be.. Lyshan?" he looks to Alasha'an with questioning brows, then at Hamin and Yetta thoughtfully, shaking his head as he fails to twist their names to fit.

Varl does not seem much comforted even by Brugar's ready acceptance as Hamin and Yetta speak of dangers to come, but manages a small smile in return.

Looking through the various items in the vault, he finds himself a couple of short swords, one of good quality, and a plain chainshirt, as well as a pair of boots, a sturdy pack and a leather case with picks and pries which is nothing special, looking towards the Dwarf with a questioning glance for permission before taking anything.

"The Quick," Alasha'an pouts pulling on her boots, now no sign of her wounds remaining. "Thought they could have done a lot better than that.. but yes, I'll own to it," she grins at Ayas, though the smile lasts but a moment.

"The rest of the Walkers are dead. Oh, maybe not Ryasta, though if I see her again I'll see to that myself." She'd not liked the demon who took Saffaris' likeness at the best of times, much less after she deserted them in battle.

The elf's smile returns as she jerks her thumb towards Hamin and Yetta. "Brugar and I came the long way round.. this pair took a short cut."

"That's better," boots on she stands again, stamping her feet till she's sure they're settled comfortably.

"Rope," she suggests, nodding to the equipment store. "Grab whatever you can. We're going to need it if we're going to catch us a mountain."

Brugar nods approval for Varl to take the items he has selected and turns his attention back to Ayas.

"Only their names survive, eh? Well, almost. Ah remember 'em as Saffaris, Venelia, Calanor and Alasha'an. Ryasta? Damn, even Ah've forgot the true sound of 'er name!"

That said, he checks his backpack to make sure his own 50ft rope and the enchanted 60ft rope of climbing are still there then goes back to searching for more in the storeroom, or anything else that looks valuable or useful.

"And, I suppose, we need to sort out this werewolf thing.  Didn't he say something about a day or two ..."

"Zhihariaster", Alasha'an reminds Brugar, almost absently. "The she-bitch demon who took Saffaris' likeness. Don't they say speaking a demon's name will summon it?"

The elf looks around hopefully, loosening her dark blade in its scabbard, just enough.

"Werewolf thing, yes.. lots and lots of rope," she instructs the dwarf, smiling sweetly at Hamin.

"Two," Yetta confirms.

Hamin looks at Alasha'an speculatively.  "So you guys tie me up, feed me garlic and thrown water at me?" he asks, clearly unsure of the process.

The elf snorts at Hamin's suggestion, though her expression quickly turns to one of sympathy, her eyes flicking to Yetta and then back to the one-eyed warrior.

"We'll do whatever we have to do, until we can find a priest willing to make trial of a cure," she ventures. "But we're not going to let a little thing like that stop us."

"I for one," she announces to the group at large, "have had more than enough of this prison, and am not minded to wait here to see who's coming to visit. What say we go looking for this flying tower and cause some trouble?"

Hamin shrugs "Lets.  Anyone know the way out?" he asks his companions - although he glances  at Varl as he asks.

"Aye, that be 'er name. No wonder Ah couldn' 'member it. Never rightly knew 'ow to pronouns it anyways," Brugar admits to Alasha'an.

The answer to Hamin's question seems a bit more straightforward.

"Faugond, 'e called it. Prob'ly 'ad some other name in our time. Forty mile north of 'ere, so we just gotta start walkin'. Stands to reason, that, us bein' the Walkers an' all."

He will make sure someone has gathered up the magic items that Ayas detected in the storeroom before they leave.

He will also make a point of showing Ayas his shield, which he calls Dweomerbane, and explains that it will absorb and neutralise any spell cast into, through or within 5 feet of it. "Just so as ye know about it an' don't waste yer spells 'round me, ye see?"

With Brugar's reminder about the items, Yetta nods and glances at Ayas.  "Split 'em up?" she suggests, "And figure it out when we know what they are?"  She takes up the three black beads, the cloak, and, still with a bit of a skeptical look, the trumpet.

"Can't say I'll miss this place."  She shrugs, ready to go.  As she starts walking, she looks at Brugar curiously.  "How do you know where we are now?" she asks.

Brugar grins at Yetta.

"Ayas just told us!"

Hamin will carry whatever of the magical items that are left over, when they set off to find the floating tower.

The elven mage nods at Yetta's suggestion, putting the heavy book and necklace into his pack, though he's happy enough to let Hamin take the greatsword and whatever portion of the coin that those with the brawn might not manage.

"Careful with that," he cautions the one-eyed warrior. "I believe it may have been Crane's blade."

Ayas listens carefully to Brugar's warning regarding his crystal covered shield and vows to keep his distance, though perhaps more from fear of straying close when the Dwarf is overcome with battlelust and is less careful about just who the edge might catch.

"Faugond?" he muses as the Dwarf remarks upon it. "The name means 'gaping rocks'."

The adventure continues in The Storming of Meneldorod ...