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Jim_Davison

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The Great Escape
« on: February 15, 2010, 11:20:37 PM »
Things hadn't gone quite as planned.  Contracts had been negotiated and signed, coin had changed hands and orders had been given.  It was a simple job, even for the four young men; escort a Nobleman with a particularly unpleasant personality and worse reputation, from one city to the next.  Little did they know the man had been poisoned, and was dead their first night out.  It had started as a complaint about a stomach ache, and they had set camp early, setting the man to bed.  Dead by morning.

Sun rise brought with it the sounds of chirping birds, a warm breeze, a promise of a beautiful day.  And a troop of fifty soldiers, come to arrest the four for murdering someone of Noble blood.  The four hadn't even realized the man was dead before that moment.  They'd simply assumed he was a late sleeper.

The trail had been a farce, but by that point none of the four young men were really all that surprised.  Framed for murder of a Nobleman, they stood no chance.  Being outlanders certainly didn't help matters; only Varsil was of local stock, Nobleborn to boot, but his family had fallen into disgrace and his entire House liquidated, gobbled up by stronger families years ago.  Another black mark against them.

Not so long after that and they were in prison.

The four men had been tossed into their cells with no shortage of rough treatment.  Shadrik, was a powerfully built young man hardly passed his twenty second year.  Skin already aged and weather worn from the deep cold and biting winds of his mountain village, with a too-big grin and a brutish appearance, had to be brought to his cell in wrist and ankle shackles.  No amount of beating had been able to take the fight out of him, and even in the process of getting him down the narrow, filthy corridor to his tiny cell, he had managed to knock out the Sergeant, headbutting the helmeted man hard enough to dent the metal and leave a thin trickle of blood running down the man's face.

Young Darryl, not quite into his seventeenth year, took it all rather quietly.  The boy would likely be a looker when he grew up, with thick brown hair and startlingly blue eyes.  He walked in silence, head lowered saddly.  From his clothes, ruffled as they were from his recent treatment, he seemed of common blood.  Simple, functional clothes meant for long hours working the fields or tending a herd.  Short, hardly passed five feet tall, he stuck close to Shadrik's side, although he would be shuffled away when the big man would strike out at the guards.

Varsil took it all with unsullied pride and resentment.  Head held high, his fine clothes wrinkled and dirty from his own beatings, he seemed to refuse to accept his situation.  He glared at the guards, and something about him made them avert their gaze, a hint of guilt about their features, but not strong enough to warrent a change of heart.  Golden blond hair was currently worn loose and tangled.  He was the eldest at twenty five, of average height and slim build, his skin sporting just a hint of a tan despite weeks on the road.

Lastly was Ericks, another of Noble blood but hailing from a distant kingdom.  Twenty three, he was the next tallest at six feet, with a solid build that came no where near rivaling Shadrik.  His own clothes were of fine cut, if serviceable and plain, and he walked with a determined stride.  Jet black hair was worn in a common soldier's cut, trimmed close on the sides and longer at the back and forehead.  The moment Shadrik struck down the Sergeant, Ericks was stepping in to shoulder a guard off the big man's shadow before the guard could strike with his cudgel, and a few curt words settled the situation as the Sergeant was already coming around.

They were shown to their cells, tossed in without ceremony, the doors fell shut and they were left in silence asides from the uncuth hooting and hollering of other prisoners, the horrible screams of pain, terror, disbelief, anger and a dozen other emotions filling the corridors.  And the four settled in, Shadrik released from his shackles, waiting in silence, each coming to grips with their situation.
-----
Some hours later things had quieted down.  Asides from the occasional weeping from another cell, or the echoing of pained screams from distant chambers, things were quiet.  Varsil spoke up, his voice a fine display of education and intelligence, with crisp pronunciation and clear tone, "Welcome to The Pit, gentlemen.  They say there is no escape from this place.  Some believe it is linked to the Abyss and the Endless Planes.  Perhaps it is a devoted circle of Baator?  But, what so few know, is the reservoir."

Darryl let out a quiet sigh, trying to stiffle tears and strengthen his youthful voice, "I'd not be surprised to see demons and devils roaming these halls...I'm sure no few of the cells house them some terrible men.  Can't all be innocent, right?"  He sounded hopeful, that maybe no one else undeserving their fate had wound up here before.  The boy was innocent, too empathic for his own good.

Shadrik let out a quiet growl that was quickly followed by the death squeal of a rat, "Let it be, Darryl.  No doubt we ain't the only ones to wind up in here that shouldn'ta been.  What are you going on about over there, Varsil?"  The mountain man's voice was as thick and rough as one might have expected of a young man his size, but there still seemed a strong glint of intelligence below the thick accent.

"The reservoir, lads.  A great underground lake, so legend has it.  Not that we're likely to see any of it's water in these cells.  They say there is even fish, often used to feed the guards, and hardly ever the prisoners.  So, if there is an underwater lake, with fish, then that means...?"   Varsil let the obvious answer hang, to let one of them figure it out themselves, his voice sharp with just a hint of a sneer about it.

"Escape.  But first, these doors.  Our gear would be nice too.  Does the lake feed to the surface again?"  Ericks voice was calm and comforting, unphased even by their current situation.  Likely meant only to ease the nerves of his friends, Darryl especially.

"Yes, supposedly it feeds to the river just beyond the city walls.  Although, of course, this is all hear-say.  But, if it weren't true, no one would speak it because none would have escaped to voice the idea to begin with."   Again, Varsil had that self-amused sneer about it, as if oh so proud of how clever he was to have made that connection.

Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: The Great Escape
« Reply #1 on: February 16, 2010, 12:58:38 AM »
If you looked like you knew what you were doing and in a hurry, chances were that no one would ask you questions or slow you down. It was a tactic that helped her avoid those bothersome priests who stood outside their temples and shouted praises and blessings for a little coin in donated returned. Can
« Last Edit: February 16, 2010, 12:59:31 AM by Shades of Gray »
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

Jim_Davison

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Re: The Great Escape
« Reply #2 on: February 16, 2010, 03:25:44 PM »
The four men hardly missed a beat as the voice piped up.  There was sounds of activity from Varsil's sell, the faint scrape of rock against the slimey, moss covered stones of his cell.  Shadrik was sitting cross legged infront of his own cell door, glaring at it as if that alone would make it give way.  Darryl stood and tried to peer through the narrow bars on his door, unable to get an angle to see the source of the voice then continued feeling the wood of the door, having found a portion that had grown soft and rotten over the years.  Ericks was leaning calmly against his own door, arms folded lightly over his chest and seemingly quite at ease, trusting that one of his friends were already hard at work on an escape plan.

"That ain't no guard.  She sounds a bit too young and fresh for that sorta thing.  Ain't often you see a woman posted to a place like this anyways."  Shadrik frowned briefly, wondering why in the Nine Hells a woman was there to begin with; she had a fine voice about her, but she also sounded small, flimsy.  Not his type, and he went back to quietly glaring at the thick, iron bound wooden door.

"And she seems to think I would divulge my secrets for nothing.  I doubt she's a fool; only someone with intent would be down here after all.  Think she's here about our trial?  That would be unpleasant, since she has over heard our plans to escape."  Varsil's tone was absent, his attention now focused on scraping some flakes of rust from the bindings of his own door, then mixing it with the slime from the wall into the skull of an over large rat skeleton he'd found in the corner of his cell.  It was all decidedly unpleasant and crude, far below the sorts of materials he preferred to work with.

Elricks shifted, drumming his fingers against one arm and staring at the narrow bars of his cell.  "I'd dare to say, friends, that someone beat us to it.  Well, the first step at least.  Escaped your cell already, Miss?  And from your tone, I doubt you've been here too long either."

Darryl piped up, still slowly digging at the rotten portion of his door.  Such an approach would take weeks at best, but he had little else to do in his cell after all.  "There wouldn't happen to be a spoon or something out there, would there Miss?"  The four seemed to have no end of confidence, each taking their situation relatively in stride.  Varsil would complain about how dirty his clothes would be, and Darryl wasn't fond of enclosed spaces, but over all none of them seemed to have even considered the possibility of being trapped there for the rest of their lives.

Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: The Great Escape
« Reply #3 on: February 16, 2010, 04:12:17 PM »
There wasn
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

Jim_Davison

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Re: The Great Escape
« Reply #4 on: February 17, 2010, 09:11:19 AM »
Varsil fell silent as the means of his escape were finally gathered.  He knelt over the small skull, filled with a mix of still living slimey moss and flakes of rust, and went to work whispering in some unintelligeble tongue, concentrating on the task at hand.  There slowly grew the scent of ozone from his cell, hauntingly familiar yet alien words drifting out.

Darryl peered up when he heard someone scrambling at his door, and could just make out a hint of the woman beyond.  He offered a pleasant enough smile, a hint of his usual upbeat demeanor returning as a quick escape was becoming more likely, then returned to the task at hand, pausing to pry a splinter from the pad of one callused finger tip with his teeth, "Just simple cedar planks Miss.  Why, boil it enough, grind it up some and it makes a paste that you could eat.  Although the flavour is a bit...well, it don't taste so good.  Touch of onion I suppose could help, or if you're rich enough there's always that black pepper stuff we had at good Lady Termail's estate."  That last was more directed to Ericks, who let out a quiet laugh in response.

"I'm not eating my cell door, squirt.  I'll herd rats first, you mark my words."  Shadrik seemed rather put off by the idea, grumping and complaining from within his own cell while now hovering over one of the many cracks in the walls, the dead rat torn open and left out as bait for others to come for the feast.  He wasn't actually hungry enough to eat them yet, but had decided it was his best bet for something to do.

"Don't worry yourself Shadrik, it won't come down to that.  Sounds like Varsil is already up to something.  Just a matter of time now, and then we're off.  I've no intention of ending my days here."  He still had that seemingly untouchable optimism that the others fed off of.

It was about then that the lock of Varsil's door began to rust at a noticeable rate.  A reddish moss grew out of the key hole, spreading over the metal, and the sounds of delicate locking mechanisms cracking and breaking could be faintly heard from within the lock.  Darryl's own attempts had stalled on the stronger wood around the rotten section, but he had the whole just large enough to get one hand through and was working at cutting the beam in half, planning on then trying to wrench the entire board free of it's mounts.  He was a small lad, but one board still wouldn't be enough for him to sneak through, but it was a start.

"So, young Miss.  Might I ask what your plan from here is?  Having gotten out of your cell, what is your next move?"  Ericks continued to lean near the door of his own cell, watching and listening through the small gap of bars. 

Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: The Great Escape
« Reply #5 on: February 17, 2010, 03:43:13 PM »
Mazzi tilted her head to the side as she watched the man digging into the door still, speaking about what he could add to it to make it more
« Last Edit: February 17, 2010, 03:43:51 PM by Shades of Gray »
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

Jim_Davison

  • Guest
Re: The Great Escape
« Reply #6 on: February 17, 2010, 08:42:24 PM »
She was certainly an energetic one, and he couldn't help but raise a hand to wave in return, smiling tiredly.  He had a few bumps and bruises but over all wasn't all that baddly off after the 'trail' and beatings.  To find his door swinging open so quickly had him chuckling warmly and standing off the wall he had been leaning on.  "So be it.  We've been bested by the better half of the species, friends.  Varsil?  I do hope you haven't strained anything over there."

It didn't take long before Varsil's lock had rusted through, a steady rain of red flakes falling free of the now ruined metal until it finally just gave way.  By the time Ericks door was open, Varsil was pulling his own free and stepping into the hall way, grimacing to find the air out there wasn't any better then his cell.  He held the rat skull still, some more of the magically manipulated moss still in the make-shift cup, and eyed Mazzi and Ericks' open door with a vague look of...well, he seemed crestfallen.  His thunder had been stolen, after all.  He just harumphed and turned to watch the hall in his direction, the skull tossed back into his open cell.

Darryl hadn't had much progress still; it was slow going with no tools and detemination alone, but once it was clear the others were already getting out of their own cells he just bounced to his feet and grabbed the bars to hoist himself up and peer out, craning his neck side to side to see what was going on.

Ericks just shrugged a bit and once she'd cleared the door way stepped into the hall, offering her his hand to shake in greetings, "Ericks, young Miss.  And compared to Shadrik, I am rather short.  That is a finely tuned skill you have, and I am quite thankful for it.  Had Varsil been able to free all of us, we would never have heard the end of it.  And he would use it as leverage to get out of camp duties for a month at least."  He grinned warmly and glanced to his friend who tossed back a mock glare of indignation before giving into an easy smile.  It was true, after all.

Offline Shades of Gray

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Re: The Great Escape
« Reply #7 on: February 17, 2010, 09:06:19 PM »
These locks really hadn
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
"Not one bit. But it's okay, I'm like every landlord in the nation. I've Googled directions."
"Shit."

Jim_Davison

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Re: The Great Escape
« Reply #8 on: February 17, 2010, 09:20:52 PM »
Shadrik had to duck to get through his own door, and even the high ceiling of the hallway was almost too low for him.  He seemed in a sour mood, but it began to warm up once he was out of the tight cell.  He spared Mazzi a brief, if thankful smile, he boundless energy seeming to be too much for him to watch, and then he was squaring off to watch the hallway in the other direction.  He wasn't in a terribly talkative mood at the moment, likely since he'd been seperated from his keepsakes and gear.

Darryl was a bit more responsive when he finally emerged, stepping out of his cell and drawing himself up to his full height of barely five feet.  He was by far the shortest of the four, glancing up at Ericks with a rueful grin, muttering something about 'if only I had a spoon' before looking to Mazzi.  He stepped forwards, smiling with all the bright eyed innocence of a young farm kid, and offered her his hand as well, "Thanks for the help there, Miss Churhold.  Not that we've any pots anymore, but it was Varsil's turn all the same.  And I'll be sure to remember it should we ever have a set needing washing again!"  Then he offered her a wink and was ducking over to Shadrik, giving the bigger man a brotherly punch in the small of the back as he stepped up along side the larger man.

"We were a band of sell-swords until a few days ago.  Framed for murder and tossed in here before the body was even cold.  Even with our gear, there's no chance we could fight our way out, so another plan is in order."  Ericks hand had the calluses of an experienced swordsman, and the strength of it to boot, but he'd been careful to be gentle with his grip.  He had a feeling her hands were a very important part of her particular way of life.

Varsil spun on his heel and walked towards the group, waving for Darryl to move to the side he had been watching, "Well, I doubt we can find a uniform that would fit Shadrik.  And you're right about fighting our way out, there's a small army of guards here.  It's a hereditary posting, and the guards are given bonuses for having multiple sons.  So I still suggest the reservoir.  Untested, but a better chance then trying to fight our way out."

 

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