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  #76  
Old 02-12-2020, 10:48 AM
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The Beginning of the End
The definition of insanity...HELP!! HEELLLLPPP!!!

They can't hear you, Jerry, so while your attempts to get their attention are fruitless, they are also quite annoying. Be a good lad and accept your fate.

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Aila thought to herself in disappointment that she had only been half successful in executing her ruse. Beverly hadn't noticed that Jerry was not quite himself, but he was also quite insistent on getting into the cell block. One man on four she wasn't confident she could prevent that, so...

Now what?

Her question seemed to be answered for her when the light from the lantern went out behind her.

"Ya left a ragin' drunkard with an oil lantern near high threat pris'ners? Out ma way, Jerry!"

Balls.

She forced Jerry's expression to one of rage and annoyance, which to be fair was pretty close to what Jerry was actually feeling at that moment if you ignored the abject hopelessness brewing beneath. She turned on a dime and threw her hands into the air in a show of exasperation.

"Ah hell, 'Arry! What've ya done? Right sir, I'll bring ya to 'im. I swore it was outta reach."

It was fairly dark in the block now, the map has the serendipity aura emitting light, but I don't know if that's actually the case. Currently assuming noas the only light source was extinguished, so by virtue of her equally human host Aila couldn't see much of anything. Consequently she surmised that the other guards would have just as much trouble. That meant that technically they could still have the element of surprise, and Grumblejack, despite his size, may be able to remain hidden.

As she passed (hoping that he was not similarly impeded), she glanced in his direcction and placed a finger to her lips. His last orders were to grab the first enemy to come through the door, but if he waited then they could surround the new guards and perhaps put an end to this before it became too deadly.

For the prisoners, of course. She didn't much care for the lives to the jailers, so those she could take or leave, but her own life she was, as it turned out, keenly interested in maintaining. There was much work to be done.

Through all of this, one thought weighed heavily on her mind: she had nno idea what made that unearthly noise. Was it one of theirs? Some form of magic? Something else entirely? Whatever it was, it didn't sound good, so chances are she'd want the new arrivals to meet it head on. The best thing she could do for now was to pull them deeper into whatever trap their rag-tag group of rebels could devise given the limited resources available to them.
OOC-- ACTIONS -----
Move (Jerry): Move back into the cell block
Free (Jerry): Quietly signal for Grumblejack to be quiet
Standard (Jerry): Double move (should finish at S19)

 
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  #77  
Old 02-12-2020, 01:04 PM
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Grumblejack's SacrificeThe creature screamed its lament and fury towards the rafters of this dank and darkened cell as though beseeching unseen gods to go curse themselves for casting it into this cage of flesh and furor.

This was enough for Kazimir.

He turned and ran from the cell plowing through the door and slamming it shut behind himself, putting shoulder to iron as he tried to fumble with the keys to lock it. The now decidedly wolf-like creature immediately gave chase. It lowered itself on all fours like some sort of half man half wolf in-between, its long claws scraping on the cold stone as it launched itself through the opening Aamon had created between the cells where it slid through almost like a spider, using its rear feet like hands as it held on to the bars and launched itself towards Kazimir and the cell door which stood between them.

The creature grabbed the bars of the cell door and placed its right paw over Kazimir's left hand as it attempted to plow right through both door and Half-Orc and its razor sharp claw Kazimir takes 1 Piercing Damagestabbed into the back of it as it pushed.

Aamon, remaining completely calm, ran behind and around Kazimir and put his own shoulder next to his to assist the Half-Orc in holding the creature safely within the confines of their former cell, grunting with the effort as the cell door pushed them slightly before slamming back shut again a single time.

Meanwhile, Aila had relented to Blackerly's insistence that he be allowed in the cell block and now hustled Jerry inside, motioning to Grumblejack to remain as quiet as possible as she passed. When she approached the group, she laid eyes on the half-wolf man who seemed intent on pressing himself through the very bars of the cell door to get at Kazimir.

Aamon saw Jerry approach and addressed him through clenched teeth as he struggled to help Kazimir hold the door.

"I have an idea... Aila... get behind me... Kaz, when she gets there, join her... I'll erect a ward to keep the creature away from us... but get as far back as you can... Grrrrr...."

That is when the guards spotted Grumblejack.

Blackerly, never one to go first in any situation, motioned for one of the other guards to follow "Jerry" into the cell block and when he stepped through, the guard recoiled from the large form of Grumblejack who was unsuccessfully huddled in the corner near the guardroom door.

"Grumblejack hiding! Bad guard see Grumblejack! Bad guard!"

The Ogre grabbed the unsuspecting guard and pulled him into his powerful grasp. The guard screamed.

Blackerly immediately ran in after his poor doomed underling, drawing his weapon as he put himself in position to strike the Ogre. Though he was fat, Blackerly had been in his fair share of scuffles and knew what he was doing with his weapon. The steel found ogre flesh and left a deep gash which Grumblejack ignored for the moment. He would not be able to ignore that bite for long, however.

A second guard ran in behind his boss, also drawing a longsword from its sheathe though he clearly was not as skilled as the more veteran sergeant since he failed to find his mark through the writhing limbs of grappling guard and Ogre. The third and last guard the sergeant had brought with him ran around them to block any retreat Grumblejack might consider, threatening him with his sword though he did not yet have time to make an effective attack with it for now.

Harry, having finished Vena, wiped as his mouth and staggered drunkenly towards the door of his cell, putting arm and sword through the bars, brandishing it menacingly at the nearby prisoners while he drooled.

"C'mon then. Have at it, ye filthy maggots. I'll skewer you, I will! Come closer!"

 

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  #78  
Old 02-12-2020, 01:55 PM
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The Beginning of the End
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Behind her, Aila heard very clearly the sounds of Grumblejack failing to hide from the incoming guards.

So much for that, she thought. At least you're pretty.

Despite her sympathy for the ogre, she didn't stop. Part of her wanted to yell something back at her "fellows" to try and maintain the ruse, but honestly they seemed sufficiently distracted that it didn't matter what she did at this point. Better to just get to the rest of the group and figure out another plan from there.

When she arrived she found that things were even worse that she suspected.

"Well I see you've been busy. Who's your friend?" The men, focusing intently on keeping whatever that thing was behind the bars, didn't seem particularly intent on answering.

Fair enough. You do you.

The druid's plan did appear to be the best one they had at the moment, so she made to comply, rushing past him and turning on a dime to look back down the hallway. If any of the guards decided that Grumblejack was no longer a priority, she could at least try to slow them down.
OOC-- ACTIONS -----
Move (Jerry): Move behind Aamon (P21)
Standard: Ready action to cast cantrip to deal acid damage to any of the new guards if they come around the corner

 
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  #79  
Old 02-12-2020, 02:39 PM
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Unexpected SuccorHis eyes opened slowly. His head felt like it had been crushed in a vice and his arm and shoulder felt as though some mad creature had tried to chew through them. There was a tart familiar taste in his mouth and he realized there was some small amount of liquid in it. He swallowed and felt a soothing warmth course through him. A face hovered above his, startling him.

"That's it. Swallow all of it. Very good. Don't be alarmed, the master ordered me to help if something like this happened. Feel better?"

Scrum realized that he did, in fact, feel much better.

The man stepped back from the Goblin, putting a cork back on the small vial which he still held in his hand. He was an older gentleman, balding with a thin beard adorning his weak-looking chin. He was dressed in plain clothes with a heavily stained apron covering his scrawny belly. Several knives, spoons and other cooking implements sprouted from several pouches adorning his apron, suggesting that this man worked in the kitchens somewhere below.

"I don't have much time. Here, let's getcha free, shall we?"

The man reached into one of the pockets in his apron and withdrew a loop of keys identical to the ones carried by every prison guard Scrum had seen during his time in Branderscar. He unlocked first his hands and while Scrum rubbed at his wrists to restore bloodflow, the man undid the padlock which secured his feet, being careful to catch the manacles before they could clatter to the floor. The old man then turned his attention to the tall man who hung from the nearby wall.

"Master Aamon sends his regards, though you do not know him. He sent me here for you, though he said I should free any other prisoners I found in your company. Mr Goblin, I can't be found here so I trust you can free the General and assist his escape?"

The old man extended the keys towards Scrum, waiting for the Goblin to take them.


 
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Old 02-12-2020, 10:39 PM
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Intermisit Opus"You do you," the Wraith thought inside her Jerry-shaped fleshly receptacle when her intention to move past Aamon was suddenly rudely interrupted when Kazimir failed to do the one task he had been assigned and allowed the wolf creature to push him and Aamon violently aside only to barrel directly into her/Jerry. The creature snarled as it struck, wicked teeth Wolf-man hits Jerry, inflicting 9 Bludgeoning, Piercing, and Slashing Damage.biting deep into Jerry's belly, right through the chain shirt he had worn to prevent just such an injury.

The fire erupted within Aila and she heard Jerry squealing with the agony of his entrails being pulled out by some half-wolf rabid creature. The Wolf-man began to shake his head back and forth violently, pulling at viscera, causing Jerry to fall over as the creature continued to eat him.


 
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Old 02-12-2020, 11:57 PM
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Bit of More than he could Chew
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The constant nightmareIt's all the same moments relived over and over again. The village on fire. The screams of his kin. The murder of his wives. The stiffled cries of his children. All unavenged.

How long must they haunt him so? How many Mitrans must he slaughter before their ghosts are put to rest?

"Have faith, Blackfire. Your time will come," ariswers a new sinister voice infernal...


A sudden infusion of healing, and a goblin now awakes with a gasp, confused at the new turn his dreams have taken. His malevolent gaze falls upon the healer, this... benevolent stranger?

Silently, the goblin checks himself and his wounds, seeing as the last thing he remembers was the slow blackout and the screams of suicide from an approaching guard. It seems surreal, waking up here with this double agent speaking of urgency and the need to unite with "The General".

But regardless, he does feel a good deal better than he did in the last few days, in spite of his current wounds. He hops off the table and examines his biceps, knowing well that those scars will last him the rest of his life. Not sexy ones either. But then again, he has had little interest in women since the slaughter of his wives. Too much heartache and fury. A ledger yet to be balanced.

"The teifling in the jail-cell, eh?" He nods, tentatively grasping at the offered keys, eyes narrowed in skepticism. "The Great Escape he mentioned is underway, I take it."

Had he the patience, perhaps he would not have had to bleed himself unconscious. But then again, a little meat in his belly and a quick snooze has worked wonders. Enough vitality to make an escape reasonable at least.

Suddenly a hand dashes out, aiming at the man's apron before the man can comprehend or react, and now the goblin gazes into a butcher's knife, admiring his own reflection in it's blade and absently using a long blackened nail to pick pieces of himself from his teeth and spitting them onto the floor.

"Yeah. You should make yourself scarce. Things are going to get ugly around here," he casually warns, not looking away from the kitchen utensil, rubbing his teeth to give a bit of a polish.

There is something unnerving about the goblin's apathetic attitude toward the impending violence.


Round ?
Dice Roll:
1d20+6 (4)+6 Total = 10
Initiative (Max 9)
MOVE: Stand
STANDARD:
Dice Slight of Hand:
1d20+14 (14)+14 Total = 28
Snatch Knife
REACTION: Confused and Suspicious Bite face?
SWIFT: None
OOC: Will this be improvised or can I use dagger stats?

 
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  #82  
Old 02-13-2020, 12:40 AM
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The Beginning of the End
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... At least, that had been the idea. Best laid plans of mice and wolf men, eh? To be fair, it all happened rather quickly. The beast had a stamina and hunger that exceeded expectations, and as she lay beneath it, aloof in her observation of Jerry's entrails being ripped from his belly, she couldn't help but wonder where it all went wrong.

Yeesh, would you stop that? She mentally chastised her host, hoping to quiet some of his incessant screaming -- an act which seemed to be the default, currently. It's just a bit of pain. I've had much worse. Really you should consider yourself lucky. At the very least this thing appears to want to end your suffering as quickly as possible.

However she got here, she had to do something. It wouldn't do to just give up her host so easily. Besides, this could be a valuable opportunity.

As the thing's maw came down once again, she attempted to hold it off while gathering the shadows around her. She looked deep within herself, trying to draw on the power of the Dark Prince to make her situation more advantageous...

But it was no use, the power never came. In light of her circumstance it was too much, and she couldn't manage to concentrate on her magic. The surge of power within her fizzled and died just as quickly as it rose.

Damn, she thought. So much for the easy way.

And so the hard way it was. She forced Jerry's body to flip over, pulling itself back from whence it came in a fruitless attempt to put some distance between it and the thing trying to get a late, Jerry-flavoured lunch. As she pulled herself hand over hand along the stone, she forced out a pitiful cry.

"Help! Somebody help! Sweet Mitra, it's eating me! Won't somebody save me from this nightmare?

To Jerry's credit, that script was mostly his. She coyly left out the part about the ghost lady in his head, but he really could grovel with the best of them.

See Jerry? Don't ever say I didn't try to help you.
OOC-- ACTIONS -----
Standard: Attempt to cast teleport defensively (failed, ability does not activate)
Move (Jerry): Crawl to T19 (provokes AoO)

 
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  #83  
Old 02-13-2020, 01:12 AM
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Kazimir
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Like a boulder the fiend of fur and flesh crashed its weight into the bars forcing Kazimir back and simultaneously managing to dig one of its claws through the man's flesh. "Arrgg......." It was all Kazimir could do to try and not cry out and alert Blackery further but by this point the half orc suspected subtly was a forgone conclusion.

Luckily, fate seemed to at least be throwing Kazimir a bone as it were as the possessed guard Jerry took the brunt of the werewolve's assault. Even while some part of him found the scene poetic justice, Kazimir was under no illusion of the real danger the group still faced. Slowly, the man stepped back beside Ammon and took up a defense stance with the longsword in his grip. "Get that ward up and lets see if we can funnel this thing at the guards." The words were whispered through gritted teeth as Kazimir cursed his luck. Even if he got out of Brandscarr alive, he would not do so without the place forever cursing him with its parting gift.


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Old 02-13-2020, 05:32 AM
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General Moergan Thasbyrne
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It was the rattling of the chains that was driving him insane. Whenever he moved, it was there. A constant reminder of his current predicament and the bleak prospects of his non-existent future. And there was no stopping it. no staying still to keep the chains from clattering. The simplest shuffling of his body set them off and a-rattling they went again. *Rattle-rattle-rattle*. Incessantly. Constantly. Without end.

Moergan Thasbyrne had otherwise managed to push most of it away. The pain, the cold, the hunger and thirst. He had decided not to give his captors anything, not to show fear at his impending execution, nor regret at a life poorly spent (he had none), and most importantly, not to give them the satisfaction of seeing him suffer as they tried to beat a screaming apology and confession out of his broken body. Instead, he had pulled into himself, shut the gates to the outside world and damned them all to hell as the darkness and pain claimed him and pulled him under time and time again.

Now, as he opened his eyes, all of those things came rushing back, making themselves known to him one by one - punctuated by the haunting sound of distant horns. And the rattling of his thrice-damned chains.

The once-proud general knew he was a far cry from his former glory. His head throbbed from where clumps of hair had been pulled out with roots still attached, he was unwashed and foul-smelling, and dried blood painted the lower half of his unshaven face from where the interrogator had broken Thasbyrne's nose in response to a scathing remark about the man's shared ancestry with common household objects. Compared to all that, the brand on his arm was an almost welcome distraction - the constant throbbing pain provided him with something new to focus on, something to help him disregard the others screams that originated from his tortured flesh and starving body.

*Rattle-rattle.*

The cold stones of the cell dug into his back and rasped against his naked flesh where the rags he had been issued didn't quite cover the skin. And, of course, there was the chains. The shackles clattered as Thasbyrne tried to re-position himself, to stand - or more correctly half-hang - in a way that allowed him to lessen the stress on his battered body.

*Rattle-rattle.*

The sour and stinking cloth in his mouth prevented the former general from screaming in frustration as he yanked his arms forward in a futile attempt to snap the chain. Not to break free - just to punish the ploughing thing and break it. Make it stop.

*Rattle-rattle.*

Sighing, Thasbyrne gave up on his struggle and turned his attention instead on the other persons in the room. He'd expected it to be the interrogator. The lazy-eyed bastard that seemed to take a perverse joy in beating on someone so clearly above his station. Or Blakerly, damn the fat bastard, back to jeer and mock the 'mighty General' and void his bladder on the stones beneath him once more, so Thasbyrne would again be left to stew in the pungent smell of the sergeants piss.

Instead he found himself starring at the back of an old, frail man in a kitchen aid's outfit stooping over a mangy goblin... feeding it? Thasbyrne wasn't entirely sure.

The blaring horn and shuffling of feet outside the room caused the ex-general to frown momentarily and twist his head to look in the direction of the noise as if his eyes could penetrate the cold stone walls of the interrogation room. What was going on out there?

"... Here, let's getcha free, shall we?" the chef's words caused Thasbyrne to shift his attention back on the old man. He had assumed the man was just ensuring the prisoner didn't die before it was times for its execution, but clearly that assumption had been wrong. Something else was going on here.

When the old man withdrew a bundle of keys and fiddled about with them in an attempt to find the right one to unlock the chains that held the goblin, Thasbyrne stiffened as a new kind of hunger shone in his eyes. His entire being wanted to lunge forward and snatch the keys, secure a means to his release, that dangled mere feet away - but his current position gave him no pause to do so. Instead he remained as still as his shackles allowed him (*rattle-rattle*) as he keenly watched the two, knowing they posed as something he had almost given up on.

Hope...
Freedom....
Revenge...





 
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Old 02-13-2020, 11:27 AM
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Bloodbath"Oh Mitra... oh Mitra... He's eating my guts! He's eating them! Pleaaaaaase... Whoever you are... he... is... eating.. me.... It hurts... SO much... Please..."

Aila felt it as the viscera was pulled from the cavity in Jerry's belly. She felt every inch of the flesh tearing as the peritoneum tore and unleashed its coil of slithering intestines into the unclean air of Branderscar. She felt the teeth as they bit and pulled and chewed the still living flesh of Jerry's body.

There was no consoling him of course, no matter that she now used his voice to call for aid. It was too late for him and Jerry knew it. She turned him onto his belly when the wolfen relented for the briefest moment, perhaps to chew some juicy morsel it had acquired, but when she did, she felt new agony explode into her brain as what was left of his insides spilled onto the filthy floor of the prison corridor.

Jerry became an endless scream inside her head as she crawled. She did not get far. The creature leaped onto Jerry's back, smashing hard with his legs to maximize the impact. Jerry's spine snapped in two places. Aila felt the blazing shock of agony in those two spots before all feeling vanished from his lower half. It was a relief of sorts, she supposed, when suddenly all went dark as the creature's teeth destroyed Jerry's skull.

She was standing beside herself and she felt the shock of the world as though through some thick sheet which deadened all. She saw the wolf-man beside her shaking his head viciously to and fro, tearing Jerry's head from his dying body. In some moment where time seemed to slow, she saw Jerry's face contorted in ultimate horror and she knew, as his eyes blinked once, that he still saw her before the light went out in them and he died.

She was pulled suddenly and viciously backwards and she stumbled- though someone caught her. It was Renée. The Tiefling was yelling something at her, pulling her back towards other people. Another Tiefling... What was his name? Aamon. That was Aamon with the red hair and the strong arms. And Kazimir was there, looking annoyed and stoic though she could see the fear behind the serious face...

Time came back to her as Aamon took a single step past her, extending his arms wide as if to shield them with his own body. His mouth spoke words she could not understand and his hands and fingers danced as he wove strands of glowing runes between the fingers of his right hand. She felt the air thicken around them and suddenly the strings of slithering runes slipped from between his fingers and grew as they formed a large circle all around them. The air shimmered like hot air at the edge of the desert on a hot sunny day and the runes projected lights and shadowed versions of themselves against their skin and on the wall behind them.

The wolf-man, finished now with Jerry, turned to them and roared as his arms flexed outstretched beside him. Aila could smell his breath as it blew at them. The creature took a single step towards them and then a second. Its legs coiled beneath itself and it leaped at them!

But it hit Aamon's ward and bounced as though it had hit some unseeable wall. It raged then, smashing at the floating sigils as they passed and pounding its clawed talons into the hard stone floor.

A sword erupted suddenly from its throat.

One of the guards had answered Aila's call for aid and had now stabbed the creature through the neck. The Wolf-man roared and spun towards this new threat and pulled the sword easily from the human's puny hand. The werewolf leaped onto him, biting deep into his screaming face, crunching bone and tearing flesh as one of the guard's eyes popped clean out of his sunken skull. The creature stood slowly as the man died and turned its blood-soaked gaze upon them once again. It's body turned eerily underneath it as it faced them entirely. It reached slowly back behind itself as it looked Aila in the eyes. She saw the intelligence there as the blade began to withdraw from where it jutted through the creature's neck. She saw the wound heal before the blade had even fully retracted from its flesh.

The werewolf raised its snout towards the ceiling and unleashed a blood-curdling howl before turning to face the battling guards and Ogre.

Grumblejack had managed to kill the guard he had first grabbed as he lay limp near his feet with his neck aslant in a way he could not have survived. Blackerly and the other were picking at the Ogre, however, and it was clear that he would not survive much longer whilst unarmed.

As the sergeant advanced with his blooded blade before him, Grumblejack grabbed the other guard's wrist, earning himself a gash on the forearm before he could find purchase, and yanked the man from where he stood and lifted him up and off his feet. Grumblejack smashed his own face into the guard's and threw him aside, keeping the man's sword as he fell.

Blackerly seized on the opening and stabbed Grumblejack deep in his belly, turning the blade once then twice the other way as his training bade him to maximize internal damage. The Ogre roared in pain, stepping back, struggling to seize his stolen sword with his other hand so that it pointed the right way. The other guard, unarmed, was standing back up, though his right shoulder seemed ripped from its socket and could not quite straighten as he limped fully to his feet.

Grumblejack took his opening and lopped the guard's head clean off with his stolen sword.

Blackerly screamed in rage when he saw his friend's head spinning end over end as it flew past him and he unleashed renewed furor on the Ogre, stabbing him deep in the thigh sending a fount of scarlet blood spewing into his own face. Grumblejack stumbled to one knee, losing the strength required to stand. He stabbed at the sergeant, but the skilled fighter knocked it aside and out of his massive hand. The Ogre punched him hard in the face, but the armed Blackerly countered in a flash by whacking his sword blade right into the Ogre's face. The blade went deep, almost like an axe blade, but the Ogre had him now in his grasp.

Grumblejack began to squeeze.

Blackerly gurgled in pain and spit a gout of thick red blood into the Ogre's face. Something snapped. It was Blackerly's back. He went limp and Grumblejack released him.

When he fell back, the Wolf-man fell upon him. The Ogre tried to grab him, but he was slick with blood and couldn't find a grip. The werewolf tore out his neck, pulling away and back with the thick morsel in his mouth as he faced the prisoners for the briefest moment. Grumblejack fell onto his back and the wolf launched itself past him, streaking down the steps in the form of an actual full blown wolf.

He was gone.

As the prisoners stepped forward to see to Grumblejack they saw two figures standing in the guardroom near the door to the interrogation room. One was short and green with neck and shoulder covered in blood-soaked bandages and the other was tall and pallid and seemed somehow regal despite his unkempt state.

Both had their jaws hanging near their chest.

 
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Old 02-13-2020, 10:05 PM
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Handsy
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Scrum's mouth is not so much agape in wonder as it is twisted in a scowl.

"You didn't save any for me," he states in disgust, seeing the bodies of the guards shrewn about the place.

With the general in tow and perhaps long winded conversations to be had, he leaves Moe to fend for himself and Aamon to explain what the heck is going as on he begins to root through the pockets of all the fallen guards, tossing anything of value in a central pile as he dutifully loots each one.

The Devil's Hand has taught him the value of grabbing what he can, and splitting it fair and square. Thieves Honor and all that. An organized guild is a happy guild.

Round ?N/AINITIATIVE
MOVE:
STANDARD: Looting Bodies, Taking 10 for 20
REACTION:
SWIFT:
OOC:

 
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Old 02-13-2020, 10:53 PM
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The Beginning of the End
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"WELL THEN." Aila shook her head and placed her hands on her hips, caught somewhere in the middle of shock, satisfaction, mirth, and downright exhaustion. "I'll say one thing, that guy really knew how to put on a show. I haven't seen that gory of a spectacle since... well since me."

She turned to Aamon and dipped into a mostly-not-sarcastic curtsy. "I never really got around to thanking you, so this is it. I could still definitely use a nap, but at least I'm out of the bars, and..." She gestured weakly to what remained of Jerry in the middle of the hallway. "... I made a friend! All in all, pretty good day. Oh, and if we find any more of those berries I'd definitely appreciate having the opportunity to sample. Your tingly magic was all well and good but it doesn't do much for me. You know, comes with the territory."

She walked past the cells to see the goblin dutifully stripping the guards of all of their meagre valuables. "Welcome back, Snotwad. How's the arm? If we can find some salt I'm probably hungry enough to give the other one a go."
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Old 02-14-2020, 12:56 AM
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Kazimir
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His escape had turned into a dark and twisted menagerie of chaos and blood. Some part of Kazimir could not help but wonder if it was all just a delusional dream brought on by his exhausted mind; however, pain courses through his flesh, the smell of blood fills his nostrils, and the screams of dying men revive dozens of memories of his time in the military. Those screams of the helpless, the stubborn, and men who have had hope so viciously ripped from them in their parting moments were a few of the things Kazimir could never mistake.

Even with Aamon's ward seeming to hold the creature at bay, Kazimir never dropped his defensive posture even as the beast moved from one guard to the next. A slight pang of regret pulsed through Kazimir as he stared in equal parts shock and admiration as Grumblejack managed to survive long enough to snap Blackerly spine. The ogre was truly tenacious and Kazimir wished he could have at least gotten in one good blow to vent his frustrations before Blackerly had met his end.

Unfortunately for Grumblejack...... the werewolf held no illusions of allies or foes, only prey. As it fell upon Grumblejack, Kazimir felt his body jerk as though to intervene but through gritted teeth he stopped himself. What could he do against such a beast in his state? The reality of it was sobering and left a far more bitter taste in Kazimir's mouth that mixed poorly with his already angered mood at the botched escape attempt thus far.

"Tstch......" A scowl traced Kazimir's lips as the werewolf took one last look at the group before bounding away. Precious seconds now passed as Kazimir eyed the door and then Grumblejack likely dead, but some part of the half orc could not let the man's death sit so idly. One second, two seconds, three..... Kazimir moved with haste towards Grumblejack and immediately knelt beside the ogre trying to apply pressure to his neck wound while checking for even the faintest signs of a pulse.


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Old 02-14-2020, 01:23 AM
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General Moergan Thasbyrne
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Former General Thasbyrne put it down to malnutrition and hallucinations caused by torture and lack of sleep that wolves somehow was rampaging throughout the prison. Then again, looking at the bloodbath and the size of at least one of the downed combatants perhaps it wasn't just a growling stomach talking.

He spat to clear his mouth of the lingering sour taste that had coated the cloth the guards had used as an improvised gag and moved forward, using one hand to brace himself against the wall as he walked to avoid keeling over.

"A prison break is it?" Thasbyrne remarked in a hoarse voice as he knelt down besides one of the dead guards to relieve him of his sword. His nose wrinkled at the carnage and stench of opened guts and voided bowels as he pried the locked grip of the dead soldier open to get to the blade, and he looked in obvious disgust at the blood he got on his hands as a result before wiping them on a clear spot on the corpse's shredded uniform.

Placing the tip of the blade against the ground and using it as a crutch, Thasbyrne pushed himself to his feet again as fast as he could without compromising his balance. Then he took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders to work out the kinks in his sore limbs. "So, what's the plan? I'm assuming you have one? The former general gave each of the prisoners a calculating look, his weary gaze resting on what weapons they where retrieving and how each seemed to be able to handle them. The ogre lying in the midst of the pile of dead got a good long look as well followed by a momentary frown, then he shook his head and cleared his throat again.

"I'm guessing this is not all the guards in the prison? How long do we have before more show up? And who among you is this 'Master Aamon' the old servant was talking about? You seem to have allies on the inside willing to sacrifice quite a lot to get you out..."




 
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Old 02-15-2020, 07:18 PM
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Loose Ends
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Renée La Fayette had seen her fair share of incredible things in her relatively short life, but what she had just seen had left her entirely bewildered. The quiet tongueless man they had all ignored for so long had been the most dangerous thing in Branderscar this entire time and none of them had even had a clue. She looked down at the dagger in her hand and found herself wishing she had a nice quality rapier in its stead, but she figured the weapon was better than nothing for now. Hopefully she would find one somewhere in here.

Renée snorted when Aila referred to the crazy goblin as Snotwad and approached her, examining her more closely than she ever had before.

"Aamon's healing didn't help you? Are you some sort of undead? You seem alive to me... Here, maybe I can help you."

Renée placed her hand softly on Aila's arm and closed her eyes. She felt her connection to the Prince of Darkness and muttered a silent prayer filled with promises of service and devotion. She felt the profane power well from within her breast and shivered as the large symbol etched into her back throbbed with dark magic. She concentrated until that power coursed down her arm, through her fingers and flowed into Aila. The Wraith felt the energy re-invigorate her as the ravages of starvation were alleviated by Renée's healing touch.

Renée opened her eyes and smiled at Aila and caused a second burst of dark power to flow into her, All the nonlethal damage is healed, leaving Aila merely Fatigued from lack of sleep.restoring her almost fully.

"Did that help?" she asked.

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Aamon touched Renée's shoulder as he passed by her, approaching Moergan Thasbyrne. Although the Tiefling was as bedraggled as everyone else, he carried himself in a way that made him seem above the filthy and ragged attire which had been imposed on him and he rubbed his hands together as if to rid them of any unpleasantness this place may have stained them with.

"General Moergan Thasbyrne! How wonderful to at last make your acquaintance! My name is Lord Aamon Gauth of Matharyn, though I rather doubt you have heard of me before this very day. I arranged for the cook to come and set you free when you at last made your way to the interrogation room. I knew Interrogator Tobias Shaw would be forthcoming with the ministrations of torture so I arranged for some distraction to lead him from this place a short time after you were seen to have arrived. It would seem our poor dear Vena precipitated things somewhat before we could set a proper plan in motion, however, leaving us with this rather unpleasant mess. I apologize for that, General Thasbyrne. Hopefully the remainder of our escape shall be somewhat less disorganized as this phase has so far proven to be."

Meanwhile, Kazimir had taken it upon himself to see to Grumblejack's well being and now found that though weak, the Ogre still had a pulse which showed that some life remained in him yet. Aamon looked down in surprise when the Half-Orc declared that the Ogre was not yet deceased and smiled broadly.

"How wonderful! A useful one, that one! What say you, Ms Aila? Shall we return Mr Grumblejack to full health or should we instead bequeath him into your service, as it were?"

Aamon's attentions were drawn suddenly by the Goblin rummaging through one of the guards' pouches and he frowned for a moment at their thieving companion.

"You know, Mr Scrum, that you complained a moment ago that we did not leave any for you, yet there stands Mr Harry, drunk as a skunk in that cell there, staring at us as though we had all gone simply mad. Perhaps you could go in there and show him the ol' what for? What say you?"

Harry wiped at his mouth when Aamon said his name, the sword dangling loosely in his limp hand. The guard staggered a bit and caught himself with his other hand against the bars opposite from where the group now stood.

"That thing et 'im. Djous see dat? Et 'is guts it did. Saw it wid me own eyes. Wud wuz dat thing? Is it gone? Is it gone now?"

"I'm sure we shan't be seeing it again any time soon, Mr Harry," Aamon said. "To answer your question, General, I have no doubt that there are quite a few more guards about this old castle, though I doubt we can expect any to show up for at least another two hours. That is when the next shift should be arriving. These thick stone walls do not easily carry sound and judging by the lack of commotion downstairs, I rather doubt our wolven friend has caused much of a stir at all. No, we shouldn't have to worry about that for some time now so we can interrogate our good friend here before we give him to Ms Morris to play with as well as provision ourselves with anything we might find in this place. Where shall we start, hmm?"
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