"Nothing out here has changed. The battle still rages on in pockets and skirmishes. The main force still isn't surging forward without a solid opening". Kallium floats closer to the bars and tries to pass through. His face smooshes up as if he's pressed against an invisible wall. "Well that compounds our troubles. The entire level is warded. Magic, extra-planar travel.. They might not have their heads on right with the troubles they're giving you, but they at least know how to build a solid jai- someone's coming". Kallium's face winks out and he is nowhere to be seen.

Outside the door, quiet footsteps can be heard.

Wilson's smug face peers into the barred viewing port on the door. "Nice and comfy? I do hope so, because you won't be here long. Sypherion and Shiaran Whiteraven, you are hereby being charged with the following crimes. Conduct unbecoming of an officer. Failing to report your post. Absence without authorized leave. Desertion. Willfully aiding an enemy of the state. Willfully withholding information. Espionage. And my personal favorite.. treason. You have been found guilty, and are both sentenced to hang by the neck until you are dead, in three days times. Being enemies of the state yourself now, any rights you have to a trial are forfeit. Now then, enjoy your stay at Cheatoue Fildegarne". He calmly turns and steps to the next cell with Rebort and Beloc, ignoring anything the Whiteravens have to say.

"Beloc S'viscous and the one known as Rebort. The two of you are charged with identical crimes. The elf will hang with the others, and the mechanical one will be sent to the College of Magics for study and eventual deconstruction". Again he casually continues down the row.

"You, barbarian. I suppose you're the lucky one. Your friend has plea bargained for your life. You will be deported back to your tribal lands under the condition you neve-". Wilson stops his monologue as the telltale sound of spit can be heard.

"You belong in here with the filth, you rat" says Sigurd defiantly. The sudden crack of a pistol shot rings out through the hall. Sigurd yells in pain and a heavy thud is heard on the floor. "Let that be a lesson to you, savage. You may be getting out of here, but I'm under no obligation to let you out unbroken". The menacing tone from early surges through Wilson's voice. "As for you, oaf, you are to be beheaded publicly and flayed, to demonstrate to the masses what happens when you stand against our great nation".

A slight shuffle can be heard. "Go..go to hell" says Sigurd, weakly. Another shot rings out and Sigurd roars in pain.

Wilson starts to stomp off, still mocking. "Three days. Enjoy them as they pass".

Shiaran wakes groggily at the sound of the shots ringing out.  The second shot brings her fully awake.  When she realizes where she is and remembers the situation, she gets to her feet and begins examining the cage with the full might of her expertise brought to bear.  As she paces, she looks for arcane symbols etched in the surfaces of the cell.  Several less than appropriate words escape her mouth as she finds each one, especially the anti-magic runes.  No wonder they left her her components.  They won't do her any good.

Her next evaluation is to look at the structure of the cell, the locks in particular.  She checks to see if there are any magical traps first, but she realizes that the anti-magic orbs outside would negate such anyway.  "The orbs are anti-magic fields.  I cannot use any spells while they function, but that also means no other magic will work in here either.  They can't scry or use magical means to eavesdrop on our conversations.  That does not rule out mundane forms.  YOU HEAR ME, WYCK, YOU-"

"Shiaran."

Sypher's calm voice brings her back down from unthinking anger and Shiaran continues to examine the cell.  She looks for mechanical traps, and how to go about opening the door.

“Stand back from the door and take cover, please. Activating your armor is advised.”

]

An unseen force clearly shakes the surrounding cells, but the organic nature of the doors seem to take the full brunt of it. The door in front of R.E.B.O.R.T. is blown completely off its hinges outward as the shockwave radiates from the room. One by one, the doors from the other cells begin to shake violently and are removed from their hinges as they are blown inward.


“Status report, please. Is everyone alright?”


R.E.B.O.R.T. activates Melt Down from his docent.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:06, Wed 16 May 2018.

Beloc slowly picks himself up off the ground. “Alright?! Nearly half killed me, damn fool!”

R.E.B.O.R.T. simply states. “It was a calculated risk based on previous encounters. The path forward is clear.”

The battered elf roughly pushes his way past R.E.B.O.R.T. and out into the hall.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:05, Wed 16 May 2018.

Shiaran, who was stooping over to try and pick her lock, remains stooped over, her picks broken and still in her hand.  She blinks a couple of times and stands up.  "Well then.  Guess yours is bigger than mine."

"Well done, Rebort.  Prepare to engage."  Sypher rises to his feet in a single motion without his hands.  A moment later he is out in the hallway.  As soon as he sees one of the globes, he   checks to see if it can be turned off or removed from its pedestal.

Beloc retracts his armor and massages the shoulder he landed on. "Yeah, well done, Rebort."

"Yeah, no worries, we're fine.." calls out Gazra in a slightly annoyed tone.

Down the long hallways and around the bend, a clattering of armor can be heard. Shouts from the prison guards echo on the stone walls, making them incomprehensible. The main guards from earlier come around the corner in padded suits, again with armored segments that cover their faces and groins. Each brandishes a night stick and tower shields. Two form up shoulder to shoulder, while the third pulls out a trench gun. The muzzle pokes out past the two shields in front, creating a sort of centurion shield wall.

"You don't wanna do this folks" calls out Percival. "Wyck said you might cause us trouble.  We ain't got nothin' personal against you lot. Get back in your cells".

Sypher holds his hands out slowly and approaches the men with shields only a few steps before he stops.  "I don't want to do this, but you need to understand something.  Our mission would save all of Fildegarne and put an end to the PCA's ability to generate more troops from the dead.  By holding us here, the Count is ensuring the end of Fildegarne and the victory for the PCA."  Sypher gets down on his knees with his hands still spread wide.  "I'm implore you to speak with me for but a moment.  My people will not do anything during that time."

[Sypher uses Combat Expertise -5 Attack/+5 AC.
Sypher uses Diplomacy = 21.]

The guards remain silent, contemplating. The leader keeps the trench gun trained on Sypher's chest as he finally speaks. "Look fella, we got kids to feed. Ain't nuffin you're gonna say bout some doomsday this and that we ain't all heard before. And ain't nuffin gonna change th' fact that if we don't get you all back in them cells, it's gonna be us three swinging at the gallows"

Percival pipes up. "Wot if e's tellin' the truth though? They don't look like no criminal types I ever seen".

"Pipe down, Percy. You ain't got no say in this. An' it's highly unprofessional in front'a the prisoner".

"I think we may be a bit beyond that point lads. We's already losin' a weeks wage since they got out".

"Elm 'sa real bastard ain't 'e. Weeks wage indeed. I know where 'e can stuff all tha' money e's gonna save wot with not payin' us".

Jonesy sighs. "Percy, again.. Not in front'a the prisoner".

"Say your piece and ge' on with it".
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 02:46, Thu 17 May 2018.

Slowly, Sypher folds his hands in front of him.  "My name is Sypherion Whiteraven, the First Blade of House Whiteraven.  I am a paladin of Iehovah and I do not lie."  He pauses for a second to let that information sink in and to see if his name has a similar effect on them as it obviously did on Count Elm.

"You men are honorable.  You want to do what is right.  I can see that.  You are also intelligent or they would not have put you in charge of someone who is obviously more than common criminals.  You must know of the division in the nobility.  There are those who side with Count Elm and Wyck and those who side against them in political matters."  He pauses again, waiting for any trace of confirmation of his assertion on the faces or in the movements of those to whom he speaks.

[Perception 2x @ 18 each.]

"So wot you suggestin' then? Some sort a' coup on Wyck an Elm?".
"I fink that's exactly wot e's suggestin Jonesey"

Sypher shakes his head slowly.  "No, sir.  I am not suggesting that at all.  What I'm suggesting is that perhaps not everyone who needs to know about us being down here, who needs to know about our mission, doesn't.  I would like to make an offer.  We will return peacefully to our cells and give you no trouble if you will take a message directly to anyone you know within the nobility who seems to actively oppose Elm politically or who has friction with Wyck.  Someone who would honestly sort out this mess rather than execute us for their own political gain.  Then take a message to the King.  Give them my name as that may explain why the Count has made this move."

Beloc watches Sypher as he masterfully engages in his diplomatic tactics. He casually walks over to the maladin once he's finished and converses with him privately.

"i dunno wot you an' the elf is plottin', but first things first then. Show me ya mean what ya say about not bein criminal, and head back in them cells. Not th' ones ya came from either. Them ones across the hallway wha' ain't blown off they hinges. Do it peaceful and quiet like, an maybe we can arrange for Percy to get you a message out. Otherwise ya leave me no choice but to employ Betsy here. She might not have lethal rounds shucked in er', but they's more 'n enuff to knock someone on 'is arse and get me point across".

"Boyle.. you're talking too much. And tellin' too much too".

"Look if we could all just cooperate a bit here-"

"Stuff if Percy".

"Our apologies, gentlemen.  Beloc was only suggesting that we give you some form of collateral or assurance to let you know that we intend to keep our word.  His point was that you are now aware that we can walk out of here any time despite the orbs."  He looks back at the others and nods.

"However, we will now enter the new cells willingly as you have asked and we will remain until such time that we hear back from you that the message was successfully delivered and get your news about how it was received, or until someone else comes down here intended us harm.  You have my word as commander of this unit and as a paladin of Almighty Iehovah that this is all and only what we will do."  True to his word, Sypher enters a cell inviting Shiaran back in with him.  He closes the door allowing it to lock behind him.

Sypher sits down, legs crossed, and closes his eyes in meditation.

[Diplomacy skill remains a constant 21.]
This message was last edited by the player at 13:35, Thu 17 May 2018.

Shiaran winks at the soldiers, waves coyly at the youngest, and follows Sypher in before he closes the door.  Inside she sighs heavily and leans against the wall taking inventory of her components.

Beloc silently walks over to the next cell and stands in front of the door. "Rebort, over here." He gestures for the warforged to get in first.

R.E.B.O.R.T. looks over to Sypher's cell, then over to the empty one beside it before slowly walking inside.

"No funny business this time", Beloc says. Several dark circles have started to form on his left side where he slammed into the wall of the previous cell.

"Very well. I was unaware of my actions comedic value. I will apply less humor next time."

Beloc just rolls his eyes as he follows R.E.B.O.R.T. into the cell.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:04, Thu 17 May 2018.

The trio of guards starts locking down doors. They also manage to get Gazra and Sigurd moved over. Sigurd limps out, but doesn't appear to have any actual bullet holes. Krem is left in his original cell as the door to his was unaffected by Rebort's blast.

"Aw'right then. Your cooperation is noted, and more importantly appreciated. Tell me exactly wot you want to be passed along, and t' whom we's gonna send Percy to"

"I say Baron Helgen. Ain't no one more loyal to the Crown than 'e is"

"Nobody asked you Percy".

"I do not know who to send the message to.  You would know better than I who opposes Elm and who to view as truly 'good' in an objective sense.  The message I would send is that the last scions of House Whiteraven are being held as political prisoners most likely without knowledge of the Crown on false charges.  They and their friends are to be executed, though they serve the Crown as a special unit tasked to undercut the power of the PCA.  If this Baron Helgen is a good man, take it to him.  If there are others like him, inform them also as telling only one person might be a mistake or abused in the political game."

Sypher looks up from his meditation.  "And you have my personal thanks, gentlemen, for your honor and your service to the Crown.  We will keep our word and remain here as I have said."

Boyle nods to Sypher. Percy pipes up with "Yeah, ol' Helgen is the man for the job on this one 'e is. We don't hold much love for most a' the nobles round here. Sept' for Helgen and a'course King Grendrake and the queen an' princess".

"We wouldn't be seeing this kind of mess if they di'n have the royal family sequestered away for "protection" purposes".

"Nevermind all that right now. Percy, get th' lead out and track down Helgen. Be quick, an' for gods' sake man, don't be seen, else Elm'll have all our heads on pikes".

""No worries all. Detective Percival is on the case".

Jonesy and Boyle sigh as Percy trots off, humming to himself. At the last moment before he rounds the corner Boyle calls out "Remember to swap to your plain clothes you bafoon!". Percy gives a thumbs up and disappears on his mission.

"I reckon in the mean time, sit tight. Ya got three days, an' Percy is quick with whatever duties we give 'em. Might not be easy, but try an' get some rest. I got a feelin' we's all gonna need it if what you say is true an this dilemma comes to a head".

"Thank you."  Sypher does as suggested and continues his meditation and prayers, eventually falling into a light sleep.

Shiaran pulled out her spell matrix and begins to fiddle with it.  Only a mage of significant caliber would understand what it was.  They had not only left her her components, but her spellbook as well.  She hoped Leukos was okay.

After spending what light remained memorizing useful spells, Shiaran took one of the cots and fought the current of her raging mind until she wrested sleep from it's turbulent waters.  Her last conscious thought was for her familiar who remained free somewhere above the castle.

Beloc spends most of the waking hours communicating with and further training Apache. They practice various commands and exercises to reinforce their bond.