[Archive]Of Magic and Metal R2D

Roll #25

Clenching his White-Hand into a fist to disguise the tell-tale energy glow, Vitr{10} mentally pours in the strange energy that has populated his mind ever since he took the mental excursion that gave him this strange beam power into his palm. More energy than he had planned comes to his call, and Vitr barely manages to keep it in. Within moments, his hand is shaking slightly; ready to divest itself of its energy in an explosive blast. The guards who notice merely think that his hand is shaking from either rage, or fear. They really don’t think on it much more, as they watch his dagger more than an empty fist.

Just like Vitr had planned.

Glancing at the guards perfunctorily, Vitr turns his attention to the presumed leader of the Red Guard. While he is garbed no differently, he does seem to hold his head higher than the others, and he is in the lead position. Making sure that he has a clear shot at him if this encounter turns physical, Vitr murmurs to Ordal: "Perhaps we shall see if we can get out of here without a fight. I fear we might all make it if it comes down to one..."

“We’ll have to even the odds somewhat then.” Ordal mutters back.

Jayk{3} sheathes his sword, lessening the tension somewhat, though he keeps his left hand on the hilt. His right hand goes into his pocket, a seemingly casual move that actually puts his fist around the small circle that El gave him; a trump card that none other than the five original members of this little gang know about. Scanning the assembled circle of fifteen guards, Jayk tries to locate one who appears to be a Metal-Caster, but is unable to distinguish one from the group. If there is one, they are disguised.

“What do you want with us?” Jayk asks, hunting for answers as to why they were not attacked on the spot.

“Wait for the Mine-Warden to arrive.” The cold answer stops any thought of protest.

Natania{7} snaps her whip off her belt, switching her drawn dagger to her other hand as she does so. The guards nearest to her tense, but she pays them no mind. If the guards could see behind the lens of her helmet, they would find that her gaze is focused on the lead Red Guard.

Shifting her grip on her shortswords, Kreja{1} mentally prepares herself to either summon a creature of shadow, then rip it into two, thus creating two loyal fighters, or to probe the surrounding earth, hopefully to get a feel for it and make it easier to manipulate. It depends on what happens once the Warden arrives.

Gerrick{6} holds his war-axe at the ready, feeling every small ridge in the handle as the anticipation of battle begins to heighten his senses. His other hand slowly grips the ora-shot he has slung over his shoulder, ready to whip it out and fire at the Mine-Warden if combat should begin.

Subconsciously falling back to his comrades rearmost end, Saima{7} points his sword at the nearest guard, who is equipped with a sword and shield. Realizing that with just a shortsword, he would be hard-pressed to get around that shield, Saima inconspicuously slides to the right, towards a guard who is holding a shortsword identical to his own, and a dagger that is cocked back over the man's shoulder, ready to throw.
If battle should begin, one leap would put Saima in place to leave a crease in the man’s neck. The move also takes you away from a huge guard that is to your left, a seemingly bear of a man wielding a huge, two-handed axe that appears like it would have little trouble splitting either trees or heads.

Everyone holds their positions, waiting as the small procession approaches. At one point, it looks like Talvik is about to do some magic, as he brings a small stone and an even smaller tied bag out of one of his many pockets, but he stuffs them back in quickly with a shake of his head.

Then the Red Guards arrive, and Natania cracks her whip, sending it’s dagger tip whistling towards the nearest Red Guard.

Natania attack roll
D6 + 1 (Dagger tipped whip) = D7
5

Red Guard(Talin) defense
D6 + 3 (Body armor)+ 1(Endurance lvl 1: Healthy) + 2(One-handed sword lvl 1: Skilled) = D12
10

The targeted Red Guard quickly jumps back, avoiding the whip blow, then continues forwards.
The Red Guards act as though nothing happened, pushing aside numerous guards to make room for the man now revealed who as in the center of their formation.

He is about as unimpressive as humans go. Small, weedy, a sharp, pointed nose and a well-maintained (if lackluster) goatee. His short, brown hair lies shapelessly on top of his square-ish head, and his teeny tiny body –the man can’t be taller than five feet- is enveloped in a pristine red hooded robe, with numerous swirling gold and black designs dancing on its many folds. The man is so tiny, and so innocuous seeming (despite his obvious wealth), that you are about to write him off as a phony, a decoy of such, when you notice the man’s eyes.
Sharp, cold blue orbs, they seem to suck the warmth and life right out of you. His shrewd, cruel gaze flicks everywhere, taking in every minor detail, from Vitr’s shaking hand, to Saima’s clever position. You wish that he had some bushy eyebrows to even begin at hiding those horrible eyes from meeting your gaze, but they are tiny things, much like the man to which they are belong.

“Ordal, Ordal, Ordal…” the man begins, in a voice that fits his heartless eyes perfectly. “Do you honestly believe that I did not know that you planned an uprising? Did you honestly believe that I allowed you more freedom and status because I thought you were trustworthy? Did you honestly believe that I did not know that you allowed yourself, and your patrol, to be captured?” The Mine-Warden calmly says. At his last sentence, Talvik straightens, a shocked look on his face as he whirls around, staring at Ordal, seeking confirmation of the Wardens last statement.

The look of shock on Ordal’s face is enough of an answer for Talvik, whose face turns contorted with rage. Obviously understanding that only unity will see them out of this, though, he turns back around, glaring so furiously at the closest guards that they take a small shuffle back.

“It was so obvious, when you received that signal from one of your men hiding in the woods –bird calls are never a good idea, too obvious…” His scathing voice goes on, condemning Ordal to realize that he had been played this entire time. “Of course, this man was not one of the men in your patrol. How you tricked the Assalvik into thinking that you were one of them, I have no idea. But you can imagine my scouts surprise when you led your patrol directly into the path of a war party!” The Mine-Warden gave a small chuckle at this, a high-pitched sound that grated on your ears. “But enough of that, we will have loads of time to talk about your curious motives soon, once we’re in my own quarters. Now, if you please…” He gestures back towards the tunnel he had exited from, and the guards around you all take a step closer.

“How? How do you-“ Ordal is quickly cut off.

“We will talk later. Now follow.” The Mine-Warden whirls around, and begins walking back towards the tunnel, flanked by two Red Guards. The other four remain with the guards, and the one Vitr had identified as the leader points to the ground with a finger.

“Drop your weapons.”

Kreja, sensing something odd, slowly turns her head to look over her shoulder, past the guards, and back into the tunnel where they had come from. As she watches, the glowstones flicker and die, leaving the tunnel pitch black.

Then a pair of two large, completely red eyes materialize and stare back at her.

Well. Kreja slowly looks back towards the gesturing Red Guard. It seems as though that creature I summoned back in the crevice hasn’t forgotten me after all.
Thinking quickly, Kreja closes her eyes and focuses on the earth beneath her feet, trying to get a feel for its texture and layers. Her magic tendrils spread throughout the surrounding rock, but suddenly they are stopped, pushed right back into her mind. Kreja opens her eyes, and stares at the ground in horror.

She hit something. Something alive. And it is not happy.

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Character Information:

Map of North Reyna Mine:

Some of you had “fail” rolls, but didn’t really get any negative effects. This is because most of your actions were only actually major if you were attacked, which you weren’t.

Roll #26

The clatter of weapons being thrown to the ground tears Kreja’s focus away from sensing where the creature of earth that is even now speeding towards her is. Noticing that her companions are throwing their weapons on the ground, a distracted Kreja draws her own weapons, the guards looking on with satisfaction as the prisoners begin to place their weapons on the ground.

Gerrick{1} tries to conceal his axe as he tosses his ora-shot and shield onto the growing pile, but since he has no place to hide it, and sees one of the guards watching him carefully, he sighs and sadly tosses it on the mound of armaments.

“Faster!” The lead Red Guard snaps, as you all are moving as slowly as possible as you unbuckle sheaths and draw weapons, before tossing them onto the assemblage of weaponry.

Suddenly the ground begins shaking, and Kreja once more senses the creature, directly in front and below her! Casting out her mind to try and take control of the creature of shadow she saw in the tunnel, she finds that she no longer senses it.

Guards begin crying out, and a few lose their balance and tumble to the floor, along with Talvik, Reyna, and Sala. Earth and rock erupt from the ground in front of Kreja, splattering everyone with earthy debris, and dust swirls into the air as a massive creature rises out of the hole. A roughly fifteen-foot tall creature, appearing to be made of wet mud and in a rough, humanoid shape that reminds you of a clay doll with no features yet carved in, begins to rumble a challenge. The sound fills the air as it raises one of its arms that hangs down below its knees, with a thicker width than both of your thighs put together. The raised appendage, dripping wet earth, slowly reaches for Kreja.

Everyone else seems paralyzed by fear, but Kreja{2} realizes that in this moment, it is do or die by this disgruntled beast. Reaching out towards the creatures mind, she conjures up her magic of Terralius, attempting to subjugate the beast of earth to her will.

Her probe cracks against an iron-like mental wall around the creatures mind, and a retaliatory mental blast sends Kreja reeling, as the hand closes around her waist. The earth explodes in a 5-foot ring around the creature, sending debris flying, and dust blasts up into the air, the creature having conjured its innate magical talents. Utilizing the confusion, Natania[6} snatches her panlal claw and metal rod from her pouch, moving to drop them in her boot.

A flying shard of rock knocks the bar right out of her hand just as she is about to drop it in her boot. The panlal claw makes it in safely, but the bar is lost, spinning away through the air and disappearing into the cloud of dust.

“Mkarana sertan!” A voice, laden with power, accompanies a sudden flare of light that momentarily blinds you all with white light. Your hearing sharpens, attempting to make up for the loss of sight, and you hear a subdued thump, as if an explosion occurred inside something.

Then you are all splattered with wet mud.

Slowly, spots appearing before your eyes, your vision returns.

A guard now stands infront of Kreja, a dagger held to her throat. “We have a magic user! I sensed her emanations!” He calls out to the other guards. Leaning in towards her, he menacingly whispers into her ear: “Should you consider using it again, I will have the pleasure of crushing you between two walls of rock.”
One of Kreja’s shadow men take that opportunity to punch the man in his eye, and he pulls away with a cry of outrage. The guard – though you now figure him to be a mage of Terralius – puts his fist through the shadow-man, and the shadow is ripped apart, returning to the dark ridges in the rock.

The other one soon joins the first.

“Well done, Visce.” The lead Red Guard rumbles, his voice sounding tinny from inside his helm, as he gingerly steps around the mound of mud that is the remains of the earth elemental. “Your pouches, helmets and bags too, prisoners.”

Having no alternative, you all do as he asks. Jayk and Kreja, however, manage to hide their stones they acquired from the metal-ones, since they are both at the bottom of their pockets. Natania’s map, also in her pockets, escapes detection as well.

“Urin, Faria, and Tertao, gather up their belongings and bring them to the Gate Store. Everyone else, follow me, circle formation. Prisoners, stay in the center or be killed.”

And so begins your walk. The guards lead you into the tunnel the Mine-Warden had taken a while before, following a gently curving tunnel for at least half an hour, though you have no way to tell the time, so it is an approximate time.

The walk is uneventful. No miners run rampant here, this close to the massive cavern that houses the guards of the North Mine, as well as the Mine-Warden himself. It strikes you that this must also be the area where any other captured miners will be held.

Then your thoughts are cut off as you are herded out of the tunnel, and the massive cavern is visible.

You stand on a ridge about thirty feet off the floor. A sloping ramp, carved from the rock walls of the cavern lead down to the floor, where a veritable warren of barracks, training halls, towers, mess halls, and other buildings litter the floor in no discernible pattern. On the other side of the cavern, which has to be at least two miles long, lies a massive walled complex with square towers. It is made entirely out of different colors and layers of metal, and even at your lofty height you can only make out one building inside due to the high walls: a massive keep, peppered with windows and minarets that protrude right out of the side of the building. The Metalcast Worksite, you guess.

Guards swarm all along the roads and alleys in between the buildings, though many are even now charging into the numerous tunnels along the walls of the cavern. You guess that the area is going to get much more sparsely populated as more and more guards answer the call to battle.

“Let’s move.” You are led down the ramp, and along one of the main roads. You don’t pay much attention to your surroundings as you pass by buildings and rushing people, your mind already working on an escape plan.
Stopping in front of a large, square, gray rock building with an iron portcullis that has the winch on the outside in a small, square building, you guess it to be a jail. The Red Guards all whistle, and a helmetless man appears inside the gatehouse. He peers out at who had made the sound, then gulps and begins to turn the winch, which rises with a shriek that can be heard easily over the already deafening cacophony of shouts and clanging metals as guards prepare to put down the insurrection. Leading you inside the jail, the guards greet the jailor, a giant of a man with a face like a pig. He grunts and leads you all down a hallway lined with cells, stopping at one at the end of the hall. He sorts through a ring of keys on his belt, and then unlocks the door.

“Ge’in.”

None of you make a move, so the guards push and shove until you are all inside the cell. It is surprisingly large, with enough bunks for all of you, and a bucket that reeks of urine in a corner. There are no torches inside, so the only light is from the torches on wall brackets outside the cell, casting the cell into a dim gloom.
“That one woman, the one with that baldric on her, she’s a magic-user. Take care around her. We’ll come with some men to escort her to the associated area for those types soon enough.” You overhear a Red Guard telling the jailor, then hear the clump of booted feet as the guards depart. Looking through the cell door, you can see the jailor settle down in his chair, obviously not too worried. Other prisoners shout insults at him, and rattle the cages of their cells, but he ignores them.

None of you say anything for a time, lapsing into silence born of discomfiture. How can you possibly escape from this?

“Talvik. Bend the bars of the cage.” Ordal commands peremptorily.

His hearty, mocking laugh reverberates around your cell. “I take no more commands from you, friend. If the Warden is right, you got us captured on purpose two years ago. Two years! No, I will escape when I see fit. It should not be too hard for one who they do not even realize is a metalcaster!”

“You cannot be serious…”

“Oh, but I am. I will escape once the Warden brings you out to chat, and may you rot in here forever.”

“Talvik…” Sala begins, but he lies down on a bunk and promptly rolls over, facing the wall.

Prologue complete. Part One now beginning.
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Character Information:

Map of North Reyna Mine:

Roll #27: Part 1 Begins

“You bastard!” Ordal roars, striding towards Talvik with long strides born of anger. His voice reverberates around the square cell you are in, and judging by the sudden movements of other prisoners jamming their heads through the bars on their doors to see what is happening, and the jailor leaning back in his chair as he looks your way, it echoed around the entire cell block as well.

Talvik rolls over to face Ordal languidly, and is promptly grabbed by the neck of his robe and hauled to his feet.

“You refuse to save me because of a deed years past! I have been planning this escape ever since we were caught! I am the escape! None if this would have been possible without me!”

Talvik snarls and twists away from Ordal’s grip, moving a few paces away before rounding on him.

“If not for you, I would not have lost two years of my life slaving away in this accursed mine! The other members of our – of my patrol wouldn’t have died! You, Ordal, sacrificed fifteen men and seven women on that day, all so you could get into this mine for some damned reason that you will not share with the rest of us!”

“Not will not. Cannot.”

“Watcher’s balls!” You can very well, you traitor! You weren’t even Assalvik, yet you somehow deceived the Bladesingers to allow you to lead a patrol! Your deeds are punishable by death in my the lands of the Assalvik, and I swear Ordal, once we are both properly armed, I will fight you fairly, and kill you. I shall act as the Justicar would if you were in Assalvia.”

Ordal spits on the ground at Talvik’s feet. “You could not face me down with a blade, metalcaster. But you are free to try.”

“We shall see, knarmaka.”

“’Ere now, wha’ ‘e devil be going on in ‘ere?” The jailor’s pig-face peers at you all from the other side of the bars of your cell.

“Jailor! This man is a metalcaster! Remove him from this cell before he escapes!” Ordal cries, in such a rage that he doesn’t even think of the implications of selling out Talvik.

“Oh, ‘e is, is ‘e? Well, outcha come then. You too, missy. I 'ear tell that you be a magier somet'ing or ot'er” He says, gesturing to Kreja as he fumbles with the keys at his belt.

“I will go when and where I want to!” Talvik declares icily, waving his hand at the bars of the cell door.
With a shriek of metal and a deep groaning sound, a bar of the cell door rips out of its moorings and flies into the jailors chest with a sickening thump. Blood spurts from the wound, and he stares at Talvik in shock, his face pallid as he tumbles to the floor, a pool of blood quickly spreading around him.

“It…’urts…” The jailor mumbles, vainly trying to stem the flow of blood soaking his jerkin as he begins to lose all feeling in his body.

Stalking back over to his cot, Talvik sits down hard, and rests his chin on one of his palms, both his elbows on his knees.

Ordal vainly tries to reach the jailors keys through the cell door, competing with a few sets of hands from two other cells that abut your own.

Opting not to join Ordal in his fruitless quest for the keys, Vitr{3} leans against the cells east wall, and closes his eyes. He tries to remember his past skills before he was captured, but any definitive memory escapes him. Trying harder to break the mental barrier, Vitr forgets that he is dog-tired, and his legs give way, sending him falling forwards to smack his nose against the unyielding stone of the cell floor.

“You okay?” Gerrick and Natania help him to his feet, as Vitr tries to stem the flow of blood from his nose.

“...Yeah, I’m fine. My nose feels broken, but…”

“It looks broken.” Gerrick chimes.

“Right, thanks for that.”

“It’s fine, it will heal in no time.” Natania{8} assures him, before walking away towards Ordal.

“Hey…” she begins, looking down at him. Ordal lies on his belly, eyeing the keys on the dead jailors belt with a critical eye.

"Um, Ordal…”

“What!” He sighs, rolling over.

Player discussion initiated. Relegated to 1 turn limit (including this turn) because of events during this turn.

Taking a breath to gather her thoughts, Natania chooses her words very carefully. “What did you do before you…er… purposefully got captured?”

Speech Check
Natania
D6
2

Ordal
D6 + 4(extreme desire not to tell anyone) = D10
5

“As I told everyone before we came up from the deep mines, Natania, I will inform you all of my purpose and motives once we rest safely in my safe-house.”

“Why can’t you just tell us now?”
Ordal sighs again. “It’s… difficult. And it is not safe here. Rest assured, I am not hiding anything from you out of malice.”

Seeing that you aren’t going to get anything else from him, you leave Ordal to his futile snatches at the keyring and walk over to sit beside Vitr, checking to make sure the claw is still there as you do so.

It is.

You rest your head on your arms, which are crossed on your drawn-up knees. This situation seems so similar to when you were captured by those soldiers who had raided your village…
The same fires of anger that burned in you those months ago comes back now with fury. No soldier will keep you locked up like this. Not for long, at least. You will be as your name to the soldiers… the Bringer of Silent Fury.

Jayk{-}(no roll required, action minor) moves over to sit beside Talvik on the cot, sitting as far away to his left as possible so your action won’t be misconstrued as an invasion of his privacy. He glances up at you, giving a slight nod of greeting. Remembering you earlier debt to Talvik, and your request to be taught metalcasting, you nod back. Feeling that he is fine with your presence, you begin to speak.

“I still wish to learn metalcasting, Talvik, if you will have me as your student once we escape these mines.”

Talvik gives a small smile. “Jayk, provided that you don’t go insane like that other fellow, I guarantee that I will teach you what I know once we get out of these mines.”

“I will stay by your side, then.”

“You watch my back, I watch yours.”

Slamming her back against one of the cell walls and slowly sliding to the floor, Kreja{7} merely sits there and closes her eyes for a time, resting her weary body. Soon enough though, the ever infringing desire to do something penetrates her fog of weariness, so Kreja decides to work on her Terralius a bit. Placing her right palm on the stone ground beside her, Kreja slowly moves her hand in concentric circles, as she access her magic and channels it into the surface of the stone, turning it into a fascinating liquid substance that still seems to be as hard as rock somehow. The simple action does little to stress Kreja’s knowledge of Terralius, but the exercise helps to strengthen her ability to control stone.

Saima{3} paces around the cell away from the others, wondering if he made a poor choice to join up with Ordal’s little gang. Why, not even two hours after he agreed to travel with them, everyone was captured!
I’m surprised they don’t blame me, he who came upon them in mysterious circumstances! Saima thinks to himself. Feeling discouraged at the situation he now is in, Saima waggles his fingers at a wall while accessing his magic in his mind, trying to draw a glyph to practice.

An odd feeling suffuses him, and Saima immediately recognizes that it has to do with his magic. He batters at the barrier in his mind that separates his magic from his normal mind, but it won’t allow him in. Observing the barrier in his mind for a time, Saima sees that the opaque barrier, seeming to be made of a myriad colors, is growing less… substantial?

Yep, that’s the word for it. Soon enough the barrier will be back to normal, in its translucent state. Then he can access his odd glyphing magic once more.

Gerrick{10} waves a hand in front of the back wall of the cell as he conjures his magic, sending it running through his fingers. Spreading out his digits, he begins thrusting each hand into the wall, pulling it out as he thrusts with the other one, alternating all the while. The effort required to keep the magic in his fingers and keep the wall less then solid soon has Gerrick sweating and breathing hard. Droplets of sweat slide off his face to splash on the floor, and the cell soon feels uncomfortably hot. When he feels that he cannot hold it any longer, he keeps at it for another quarter of a minute before finally resting. Inhaling deeply, then exhaling, Gerrick senses that his magic has become stronger… much stronger than before.

Everyone lounges for a bit, resting their weary bodies. Talvik and Ordal refuse to acknowledge each other’s presence, and no one even attempts to make conversation, choosing instead to listen to the murmurings of other prisoners, who mostly talk and laugh about how the jailor met his end. Every once and a while a few call out cheers to whoever killed the jailor, but Talvik ignores them.

The tramp of booted feet bring everyone to attention, looking out from the bars of their cell door as two Red Guards and one tall, robed man enter the cell block. The man in the robe has his hood pulled up, though it doesn't obscure his face very much, and his drab brown robe hangs formlessly on his stick frame.
“Brasco! Where the devil are you?” One of the Red Guards calls out, his voice muffled by his helmet. A short search ensues, until the robed man points a gnarly finger at the jailors prone form.

The trio storms down the hall, prisoners jeering at them, cracking rude jokes at their expense that typically involve the jailor. One prisoner shoves at one of the Red Guards through his cell door, and before he can even retract his hand, he finds that he no longer has one, as the Red Guard severs it in a blurring motion that ends with his hand on a knife that is still in its sheath.

Or more likely, was just returned to its sheath.

The mans agonized cries silence the other prisoners, and in no time the trio stand in front of your cell, correctly figuring out that the missing bar in the door is the one buried in Brasco’s chest.

“You did this, mage, didn’t you?” One of the Red Guards accuses, pointing a gauntleted hand at Kreja.

“I am no metalcaster.” She replies with equanimity

“Well then who bloody did!” The Red Guard finishes the sentence with a shout that echoes around the entire cell block.

The robed figure peers inside the cage, his gaze immediately locking on Talvik. “There. The robed man, I would wager.”

One of the Red Guards snatches the ring of keys from Brasco’s belt, and begins inserting keys into the lock.
A few minutes later, he finally finds the right one, and the cell door swings inwards with a creak.

The two Red Guards both draw longswords simultaneously. The robed man stands in between them, and beckons towards Kreja and Talvik.

“Both of you exit the cell, if you will. I would hate to have to come in for the two of you.”
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Character Information:

Map of North Reyna Mine:

Roll #28

Realizing that to be separated is to die in this situation, (not to mention that he feels his charge dissipating) Vitr{6 – 1 = 5} swings up his right arm – the White-Hand arm- and releases the grip on the energy.
Expecting a blinding flash as a beam shoots out, and a very loud, satisfying explosion immediately after, Vitr shuts his eyes, but when the flash doesn’t come, he quickly opens them.

The two Red Guards and the robed man are staring at you, as are your companions in the cell, though the latter is looking at you with confusion, since they were expecting a devastating explosion.

As were you. A quick glance at your hand shows that it is still white, and you feel that the energy is gone as well. There should have been an explosion… but there wasn’t.

Realizing that Vitr’s gesture will be interpreted as a hostile one, Natania{6} is the first to move, rolling in front of Vitr and shielding his exposed form, doing the same for Kreja as a result since she is standing behind him. Her protectiveness has always been an intrinsic value of hers, and the fact that Kreja reminds her of an old friend brings it out even more.

Fearing for Kreja being taken away as the guards wish, Natania begins to chant in her mind, words that she does not understand flowing freely from her thoughts, with the intent to mark Kreja in your mind should she be taken away. Natania dimly recalls doing this before to save a lost and captured friend from a Crasain raiding patrol… just before her village was destroyed and she was sent to the mines. The thought fills her with anger, and she mentally chants faster.

Just as Jayk{7} and Saima charge towards the guards at the door, Natania finishes her mental chant, and slaps a hand against Kreja’s arm, completing the ritual. Immediately Natania feels a small tug at the back of her head, Kreja almost turns around to see who it is, but she realizes that it is just the chant showing her where Kreja is.

Jayk reaches the open cell door first, just as a Red Guard is stepping inside. The robed man and other guard are unable to get inside the small door at the same time, thankls to the thin doorframe. Leaping at the guard with the intent to disarm, Jayk snatches at the guards hand holding the sword.

Jayk attack roll
D6
3

Red Guard (Timothy) defense roll
D6 + 1(Omnite Longsword) + 3(Trained meticulously) + 1(gauntlet) + 2(Strength level: Strong) + 1(Endurance level:Tolerant) + 2(One-handed sword level:Adept blade-wielder) = D16
1

:

Somehow catching the highly trained Red Guard completely by surprise, Ruylon grabs the Red Guards wrist and yanks it down, twisting it as he does so while simultaneously slamming his booted foot down on the turned wrist. An audible crack sounds, as does a cry from inside the Red Guards helmet. His sword drops to the ground, and Jayk wastes no time in snatching it up and jumping back.

As Saima{5} charges at the injured guard, the one behind grasps his shoulder and pulls him back, taking his place at the doorway, sword at the ready. Saima stumbles just before colliding with the guard, and Saima's reaching hand is easily turned aside, the guard finishing with a punch that sends Saima stumbling a seemingly inordinate amount of feet back before he falls to one knee, a pained expression on his face.

Gerrick{5} huddles in a corner as far away from the fighting as possible, wanting nothing to do with it. After all, if the enemy only sent three men to extract someone from a group of ten friends, obviously those three are capable of the job! Despite his desire not to fight, Gerrick decides that it would be beneficial to his own wellness if he learned some sort of strange power...similar to Vitr’s, perhaps? He closes his eyes, trying to concentrate, but with all the shouting of support to the prisoners fighting inside the cell from the OTHER prisoners in cells, Gerrick is unable to concentrate.

“Kreja! I need a blade!” Ordal roars, knowing of her abilities with shadow as he charges towards the Red Guard standing in the doorway who is shielding his brother guard as the robed man passes a hand over the downed Red Guards broken wrist, murmuring something incomprehensible.

Acquiescing with a short nod (after all, she was about to summon two anyway), Kreja{8} calls forth the shadows in the room, balling them up in her fist. As usual, the room takes on a curious flat appearance, but Kreja takes no notice, busy forming the shadow into a blade. As soon as it takes the shape, she slices it in twain, forms the two halves into complete blades, and tosses one to Ordal. Catching Jayk’s attention as she moves to the back of the room, she tosses him the other, and he catches it with his free hand.

“High Bailiff, be with me!” Ordal screams, calling out to someone unknown to any of you as he lunges at the Red Guard with his shadow knife.

Ordal attack roll
D6 +2(Strength level: Strong) +3 (One-handed sword level:Adept blade-wielder) +1(Attack plan) +1(Shadow-dagger)= D13
13

Red Guard(Jaxxa) defense roll
D6 + 1(Omnite Longsword) + 3(Trained meticulously) + 3(Body armor) + 2(Strength level: Strong) + 1(Endurance level:Tolerant) + 2(One-handed sword level:Adept blade-wielder) = D18
14

The Red Guard sees Ordals feint for what it is, having watched his feet subtly maneuvering to a position not advantageous at all for stabbing forwards. Waiting out the bait attack, Ordal is too late into his combination to change, as he spins the blade out to the side, reversing his grip as he does so, and stabbing sideways into the side of the Red Guards armor, having moved close enough to be able to reach.

The Red Guards hilt sends Ordals shadow-blade flying wide before it comes close, and the Red Guards other gauntleted fist crashes into Ordal’s jaw with a crack, sending him lurching to the side, blood flowing from his mouth.

Sala, seeing Ordal fall, decides to follow Gerricks line of thinking, and huddles on her cot, looking positively feeble. Reyna, as always, stares impassively. Being just a summoned spirit, she cares not for what happens to her form; she can feel no pain, and if she dies she will be released back to her home plane.

---

Talvik, however, stands up with a swirl of his robes and a wave of his hand.

Talvik Metalcast
D6 + 2(Metalcast level: Metalshaper) = D8
Difficulty threshold: Light = Fail threshold: 2
7

The lead Red Guard’s sword simply melts, Talvik having changed the metal to a liquid state.

---

The Red Guard, unfazed by his sword’s unexpected death, snatches the dagger from his belt and rushes Jayk, realizing that a swift action is needed to shatter the will to fight from these prisoners.

Red Guard(Jaxxa) attack roll
D6 + 3(Trained meticulously) + 2(Strength level: Strong)+ 3(One-handed sword level:Adept blade-wielder) = D14
9 + 0.5 (dagger) = 9.5

Jayk defense roll
D6 +2(Longsword + longer reach) = D8
6 + 0.5(shadow-dagger) = 6.5

The Red Guard, even with the disadvantage of fighting with a dagger against a duel-wielding opponent with a longsword as well as another dagger, blasts through Jayk’s defense. A sidelong cut picks off Jayk’s slash with the longsword, a gauntlet absorbs a stab from the shadow dagger that was too close to have any strength, and then Jayk has no defense, both his arms out wide. The Red Guard stabs right into Jayk’s solar plexus, removing the dagger as immediately as it entered, but the damage is done. Jayk falls back to the floor, longsword and shadow-dagger falling from limp fingers. The Red Guard shuffles backwards quickly, taking a position back in front of the door.

For a moment, all is silent other than Jayk’s agonized gurgle, blood flowing out from both his mouth and the stab wound.

---

“Acatha, mineldi.” The robed man finishes his chant, and waves his now-glowing hand over the broken wrist of the other Red Guard one more time.

Tern healing roll
D6 + 1(Terralius life branch level:Terralifus)= D7
Difficulty threshold: Moderate = Fail threshold: 3
2

The white glow that had suffused the robed man’s hand fades, but the Red Guard shakes his head as he unsheathes his dagger with his other, non-broken hand. The healing had not worked.
Hiding a frown of disappointment, the mage turns to the cell. “I do not wish to have Jaxxa kill another one of your companions. Please, may you send your two magic wielders out, along with the one who conjured up those heretical blades. If you do, no one else will be hurt.”

Opponents:

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

Character Information:

Map of North Reyna Mine:

Roll #29

All is silent for a moment, but for Jayk’s ragged panting. The tension continues to build as the silence stretches, each individual drawing up plans for attack in their heads. Vitr in particular, his mind racing, tries to find out a way to help his companions. He has no healing powers… only his wit…

Vitr’s{9 – 1 = 8} shoulders slump, and he lowers his fists. “It is hopeless to fight you. I am a mage as well, so I will come along with the others.” Vitr begins advancing towards the guard, his unexpected maneuver putting Jaxxa off his guard for a moment.
Just a moment, but that was all that was needed.

“Stand back, infide-“
With a sudden burst of motion, Vitr strikes, launching a circle kick at Jaxxa’s hand that is clenching the dagger.

Vitr attack roll
D6 + 1(Plan) = D7
7 – 1(Light Pain) = 6

Red Guard(Jaxxa) defense roll
D6 + 3(Trained meticulously) + 1(Bracer/glove armor) + 2(Strength level: Strong) + 1(Endurance level:Tolerant) + 2(One-handed sword level:Adept blade-wielder) = D15
15 +1/2 (Dagger) = 15 ½

Jaxxa, too well trained to be caught off guard with his adrenaline already pumping, yanks his arm back, letting Vitr’s kick whistle by. He punches out with his other hand, but Vitr, recognizing in an instant that his attack failed, has already jumped back, weaving his fists in a defensive pose.

Jaxxa lets out a hearty laugh as he brings his dagger back forwards, keeping the blade pointed at Vitr. “You make a solid soldier, boy, but you are no Red Guard. Come, try me once more!”

“Hold, Jaxxa! Do not move from the door!” Tern intones peremptorily, his glare cutting across the cell. “Cease fighting at once, or you will wish you had!”

Ignoring the mage's order, Kreja{8}, keeping a fierce grip on the shadows making up the blades, drops her arms to her sides, then flips her palms up to face the ceiling, fingers spread wide. Calling on her Terralius knowledge and power, Kreja thrusts her arms up towards the ceiling, calling the earth up to form around her enemies feet.

With a wet gurgle heard throughout the cell, blocks of mud slam out of the stone floor as if someone had pushed them, encasing the two Red Guards and the mages feet, conforming to their shape, then instantly hardening back to cold, unyielding stone.

“Damn! Damn!” Jaxxa curses, struggling to pull his feet out and failing abjectly.

“Silence!” Tern says harshly, before raising his voice so there can be no mistaking his words.

“Very well then. The Mine Warden was not explicit in his orders to retrieve you… I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if a few of you become ‘unintentional casualties’. Keep Ordal alive! Kill the rest!” Tern barks to the guards.

“And how are we supposed to-“ Jaxxa starts, but is quickly cut off as Tern closes his eyes and raises his hands.
He begins to chant arcane words, throwing a lizards head up into the air after what you assume to be the first sentence, and watching it immolate to ash before beginning the second line of incantations.

---

“A good try, mage. But you will have to stop this first.” Talvik waves his hand at the cell door.

Talvik Metalcast
D6 + 2(Metalcast level: Metalshaper) = D8
Difficulty threshold: Light = Fail threshold: 2
1

The cell door shudders, but nothing happens.

“What-“

---

“Masanthi!” Tern cries in glee, finishing the incantation and thrusting his palms down, spreading his fingers wide.

Tern Terralius roll
D6 + 1(Terralius level: Terralifus) +1(Spell component used) = D8
Difficulty threshold: Light = Fail threshold: 2
2

As if the gods themselves decreed that there would be no magic cast in the cell after Kreja’s, Tern’s spell only produces a few sparks from his fingertips.
“The Six Fires of the Bastar-“
“Don’t interrupt me next time, fool, it only causes me to reciprocate.” Talvik cuts through Tern’s oath. Before a war of words can occur, two important things happen simultaneously:

Natania{9} drops to the ground and slaps her palm down on Jayk’s stab wound, eliciting a groan of pain even as her palm pulses with a chill blue light, casting the shadowless room into an even more baffling shade. Her anguish for her friend (though they have only known each other for a short time) powering her healing. Jayk’s gurgles subside, and he sits up with a grimace, before embracing Natania tightly, whispering his thanks.
While that scene would be touching had anyone else seen it, everyone was intent on another act.

---

Ordal rolls to his feet, a move that places him next to the shadow-dagger and longsword that Jayk had dropped when stabbed. With a senseless cry of anger, blood flowing from his mouth, Ordal attacks, double-stabbing at Jaxxa, who almost falls down when he tries to instinctively move back. His training saves him in that moment, the skilled warrior immediately stopping the movement and swinging his hips forward to stay upright even as he swipes his dagger to the side, blade pointing at the ceiling in a side-block to Ordal’s blow.

Ordal attack roll
D6 +2(Strength level: Strong) +3 (One-handed sword level:Adept blade-wielder) +1(Shadow-dagger) +2(Omnite Longsword) +1(Reach advantage from Longsword)= D15
11

Red Guard(Jaxxa) defense roll
D6 + 1(Omnite thick-bladed dagger)+ 3(Trained meticulously) + 3(Body armor) + 2(Strength level: Strong) + 1(Endurance level:Tolerant) + 2(One-handed sword level:Adept blade-wielder) = D18
2 -1(Cannot use any footwork) = 1

Atleast, his training would have saved him there, were it not for the sheer ferocity of Ordal’s attack, the thick-bladed dagger merely pushing Ordal's longsword slightly to the side instead of pushing it into the path of the dagger thrust, which would have defeated both attacks.
Instead all the block did is ensure that Jaxxa is instantly slain, as the altered angle of the longsword and the thrust of the shadow-dagger both slide into Jaxxa’s heart, piercing his armor as if it was paper. The longsword thrust was so powerful that it slides right through Jaxxa, and appears to have also impaled Tern, who was caught by Kreja’s earth magic into an unlucky position directly behind Jaxxa…

Luck Check
Even = Fail, Odd = Success. Rolling D6
3

When all onlookers shift their postion, changing the angle they are looking at, they find that it the sword blow did not just appear to strike both Jaxxa and Tern… it did.

Tern’s limp body slides off the end of Ordal’s longsword, air wheezing through the hole in his left lung, feet still pressed flat against the ground from the hardened stone. Jaxxa simply collapses, falling over Ordal’s two blades, folding them against his armor.

With a curse, Ordal shoves Jaxxa’s corpse back, Kreja’s stonework causing him to fall back in an identical fashion to Tern.

The remaining Red Guard merely stands there staring, immobile from the rock around his feet, and apparently in shock at the apparent ease with which Ordal just slaughtered his two companions.

Everyone else similarly stares, momentarily at a loss of what to do. It seems that with one blow Ordal changed the odds from ‘We are appearing to be screwed’ to ‘We are now able to escape if we deal with a heavily disadvantaged guard’

---

Of course, Gerrick{1} saw nothing. Too focused on searching for some sort of sword ability, he searches with abandon through his mind.

Defenseless in such a state, he becomes easy prey for an insidious creature hiding in a small, hidden cave just outside the complex.

A thoughtcatcher is a beast that looks quite odd. A long, wormlike creature with a body as thick as a humans thigh, and at least three times as long as a tall humans leg, a thoughtcatcher looks like a big snake, other than the important fact that a spiky bone proboscis protrudes from its face where its nose should be, which tapers down before changing to that strange boney feature. It has no mouth and no eyes, and seemingly gets all its nutrition from “thought catching”.

A thoughtcatcher has little in the ways of physical defense, the proboscis mainly being show. Its real power lies in its most curious mind. A thoughtcatcher has no desire other than to feed itself, but it goes about that desire with all the strategy of a hunting pride of Vlaywolves.

A thoughtcatcher can propel it’s consciousness out of its body and into any other entity, within an approximate mile. Once there, it lies in wait, perfectly undetectable except to people who know what to look for. Once its host becomes distracted, the thoughtcatcher seizes control of the creatures perceptions, turning all focus inwards. To anyone seeing the thoughtcatcher's prey, it would appear as though the person has become a mindless vegetable, only capable of breathing .

But the thoughtcatchers prey is actually involved in a state of mind, identified as “The Catching” by thoughtcatcher studies. In the catching, the being is subjected to live through their worse memories once more, only worse. The thoughtcatcher alters the memories and plays with them, creating new moments and eliminating old ones. Its desire is to create a situation in which the prey both dies in the memory (and by the thoughtcatcher’s magic, in real life as well) or simply goes insane by the heightened nightmare of memory.
Then the thoughtcatcher absorbs the preys “warm” thoughts and mental processes, somehow powering its body with these intangibles, and withdraws itself from the husk.

Such a situation is what an unwitting Gerrick finds himself in.

<><><><><><><><><>

“Gerrick!” Your mother calls, snapping you out of your daydream. You yawn, stretching your legs under the solid wraywood table. Light filters lazily through an open window to your right, bathing the small kitchen in a warm yellow glow. Dust motes swirl through the air, and you watch, entranced at their dance, until your mother leans forward from her position at the counter lining one of the walls and slams her palm down upon the tabletop, making you jump.

“Lazy child! You didn’t even hear what I said, did you!”

“No, mother…” Gerrick mumbles, ashamed.

“Please go down to the market and buy me some potatoes!”

“That seems like a fairly boring reason that is meant to get me out of the house… can’t you be a little more imaginative? This seems like the start to a generic fiction tale by some of those dreadful writers…”

Gerrick’s mother sighs, dismissing him with a wave of her hand. “I need the potatoes for dinner, so please run along and get them...”

Pushing your chair back from the table with a sharp screech as it skitters over the worn wood floor, you send a smile your mom’s way, and exit the kitchen. Walking down a small hallway, crafted of the same wood in the kitchen, you pull open the thin wooden door and step out into the late afternoon sun, and the main street of the village of Lebedos, a rather small but still prosperous farming village that rests near the Feol border in the nation of Ionia. Most of the tiny houses are wooden one stories with only a few rooms, similar to your own. The few larger buildings are in the center of the village, by the large tree that dominates the village skyline if viewed from the hills scattered around the town. You start down the road that will take you there, as that is where the market is, along with the blacksmith shop that your father owns, and the Village Elder's large (for Lebedos) home. Your thoughts drift back to the odd daydream you were having, offering only a distracted nod or wave to those you pass on the dirt street. You had imagined that you were imprisoned in some sort of mine… and fighting soldiers!

And winning! Not to mention all the fantastical magic you could conjure! And the golems…

You are so preoccupied by your thoughts that you do not even realize that you have reached the center of town until a passing man accidentally bumps into you, throwing you from your reverie. Clusters of village folk roam throughout the square, shopping for goods as stall owners and hawkers scream out their deals. The Tree, a massive construct of nature with a trunk that four grown men holding hands could not encircle, shades the entire square with its huge limbs and lush leaves, a circle of grass and underbrush shielding its massive roots and separating it from the dusty surface of the square. Across the square you can see your father pounding away at a chunk of metal on a large anvil, his shop set up under a large awning of thatched straw that protrudes from a building besides him.

Opponents:

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

Character Information:

Map of North Reyna Mine:

Roll #30

Ordal backs away from the remaining guard, moving into the cell once more as he sizes up his remaining opponent, the Red Guard with the broken wrist.

Natania{8} reaches down and clasps Jayk’s hand, pulling him to his feet.
“Thank you, Natania! Wherever would I be without you?”

“Dead, I would think!” She laughs, before her expression hardens once more as she notices the remaining Red Guard. She stalks towards him, and he shifts his grip on his dagger, ready for her charge.
Natania doesn’t charge, her intent something that would broker no retaliation from the guard. She drops down into a crouch and snatches up Jaxxa’s dagger, springing right back up as soon as she grasps it, and launches the dagger at the seam where the Red Guard’s armor meets his helmet.

Attack roll
D6 + 1(dagger being thrown) = D7
1 + .5(dagger) = 1.5

Timothy defense roll
D6 + 2(Adept blade-wielder) + 1(Tolerant) + 1(Strong) + 3(Trained meticulously) + 1(dagger) = D14
14 – 1(Grounded to floor by stone) – 2(medium pain) = 11

The ring of omnite on omnite sounds throughout the cell as Timothy smacks the blade away with his dagger, sending it to crash against the wall and fall to the floor at his feet.

Jayk{7} sprints towards the guard, who quickly realigns his dagger to point at Jayk’s chest. Figuring that Jayk is likely to get skewered on the dagger, Talvik waves his hand, shouting an indecipherable syllable as he does so.

Talvik Metalcast
D6 + 2(Metalshaper) = D8
Fail threshold: Very Light = 1
6

Timothy’s dagger simply melts away, liquid omnite running over his gauntlet. This unexpected turn throws him off balance for a moment, at precisely the time Jayk leaps at him, turning his body horizontal in the air, booted feet aimed for his neck, though the seam is too small for his feet to get through.

Attack roll
D6 = D6
5

Timothy defense roll
D6 + 1(Tolerant) + 1(Strong) + 3(Trained meticulously)+ 1 (helmet) = D12
7 – 1(Grounded to floor by stone) – 1 (off balance) = 5

Timothy manages to get his armored forearm up infront of his neck, and as Jayk slams his feet into that, the armor manages to absorb the blow, Timothy’s sheer weight keeping him upright as Jayk falls to the floor infront of him, quickly rolling away back the way he came before Timothy can do any damage, neither adversary any worse for wear.

“Who’s next then? Reinforcements will be here any minute now, and you have no chance of escape!”
“You’re bluffing.” Talvik coolly interjects, silencing the Red Guard, though none of you have any idea how he could know that.

Vitr{9} calmly walks over to the fallen mage right in front of Timothy. Carefully keeping out of his reach, Vitr pulls the robe off of the mages form, pulling it on over his mine jumpsuit, studiously ignoring the bloodstains.
“A perfect fit!” He exclaims, rummaging through the pockets of his new robe as he does so. Finding that everything fits fine, he keeps everything, taking a few prudent steps away from the Red Guard and back into the cell as he finishes.

“Guard, I offer you a chance. You know you cannot defeat us, and you will die. But I would be willing to let you live, in exchange for you showing us how to get out of here.” Vitr offers.

Persuasion check
D6 + 1(threatened target) =D7
2

Persuasion resist(Timothy)
D6 + 3(High Loyalty) = D9
3

“I will never betray the Mine Warden! May you burn in the Bastard’s Six Fires!”
A silence falls over the cell, no one moving or making any noise.
“Well… that’s rather disappointing.” Vitr remarks.

Saima{9} moves quickly around the room, gathering up any loot left on the ground. He grabs the dagger Natania launched, and belts it around his waist. Expressing a tsk-tsk as he sees the puddles of liquid metal on the ground, he finds that only the dagger was left as loose loot. You expect that the jailor would have some good items, but Timothy still blocks the doorway out of the cell.

Awareness check
Odds = Success, Evens = Fail
4

Saima fails to notice Gerrick unmoving in the corner, as does everybody else. Deciding to focus on improving his agility, Saima begins launching kicks and rolling around, dodging pretend strikes and blows from imaginary opponents. The problem with doing that in a cramped cell is that generally you will bump into people.
And Saima does. Alot.


“Sorry!”
“My Bad!”
“Whoops!”

And various other exclamations by Saima are called out whenever he jostles someone, once even almost flooring Talvik as he hits him from behind.

“Stop!” Talvik hisses after that incident, shoving Saima away with his arm. “Do this some other time!”
Saima shrugs, not disappointed, as he got in some good training.

Kreja{8} moves over to put on Jaxxa’s armor, forgetting to concentrate on keeping the shadow-daggers corporeal, causing the one in Ordal's hand to melt, making him jump. She also dispels the sticky earth, freeing up Timothy, who tenses as Kreja approaches.

Grabbing Jaxxa’s body, she begins to tug him backwards into the cell. With a shout of indignation, Timothy leaps forwards, punching with his armoured fist.

Attack roll
D6 + 2(strong) + 3(trained meticulously) = D11
11 – 2(medium pain) = 9

Ordal, seeing Kreja defenseless, leaps forwards infront of her, slashing with his longsword.

Attack roll
D6 + 2(Omnite longsword) + 2(Strong) +3 (Adept bLade-wielder) = D13
12

Ordal’s longsword slashes across Timothy’s chest, renting a long gash in his armor, blade biting a deep, deadly line into his chest.

Timothy falls back with a shudder, gasping the last breaths of life as he crashes atop Tern’s dead body.
Cheers roar from the prisoners who could see the fight, calling out praises to everyone's fighting skills.
And, of course, shouting out reasons to free them.

“I appreciate that, Ordal.” Kreja comments, stripping Jaxxa’s armor off him and putting it on herself, smiling when she discovers that Jaxxa had a bit of money in his pockets. Soon enough, she is outfitted, and nods her readiness to go to Ordal.

“Search the building, everyone. I will wait in the room where we came in. Take anything of value, and release any prisoners who want to help us. Be wary who you release, though. Some of these people deserve to be in jail.” Ordal starts walking down the hall towards the circular room with the jailors table that you came in from, motioning Talvik to walk with him. He does, and they begin to speak quietly, Ordal presumably trying to explain to Talvik his motives for allowing their patrol to be captured. Sala and Reyna follow them like dogs, as usual. Prisoners stick their arms out between the cell bars, pleading with them for freedom.

The jail building is a rectangle, with two hallways coming out of the jailor’s circular entrance room Ordal and Talvik are moving to. You all stand at the end of one such hallway, lined with cells of prisoners. The other hallway is directly down your hallway, arrayed so that you can see the end of the other. Interestingly enough, the end room of the other hallway is not a cell; it is an iron-bound wooden door.

Opponents:

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

Character Information:

Map of North Reyna Mine:

Roll #31

Natania{7} pumps her fist in the air in anticipation of looting! Not even this grim situation can defuse her intrinsic carefree, happy-go-lucky nature! Stepping up to Timothy’s dead form, she strips off his gloves and boots, pulling off the ones she currently wears in favor of these snappy chainmail-trimmed ones. With a glance down at the rent chainmail, she decides to forgo taking that, figuring that for the weight, damaged armor would not be worth it, especially since she already has her own. Sauntering out of the cell and getting a good view of the grasping hands of the prisoners begging to be freed, Natania immediately decides to refrain from freeing, or even talking, to any of them, unless she knows them.

Which isn’t likely. The only person she truly knew from her village was a woman by the name of Helena… and from what Natania had heard before they were separated, Helena was being sent to Crossguard Keep, the personal home of one of Crasian’s Knight Lords, who between the five of them serve as the rulers of their nation.
Smacking away any hands that tried to grab her, Natania moves purposefully towards the bound door at the end of the other hallway.

“Let me go, lass! I used to be a soldier of the Feol Empire! I know my way around a blade!”

“I can pick any lock! Save me!”

Swarms of reasons to free someone fly at Natania, who stoically ignores them all. The cells stop a short way back from the door, much to her relief. Atleast she wont have people snatching at her while she tries to see what’s inside.
There is a teeny tiny keyhole, made for a hole of the same miniscule size. Bending down to try and see through the hole, she sees only darkness. Straightening up, Natania grabs at the doorknob and twists, but it moves only a millimeter to the side.
It is locked.
Deciding that her time would be better served searching for her lost equipment, Natania moves back down the hallway to the circular antechamber.

“Have you found our equipment?” She inquires, as she rounds the corner to see Talvik and Ordal leaning on the jailors table, talking calmly about how to get out of the mine. Talvik seems to have put aside his grudeg in favor of escaping... for now. The portcullis that served as the entry to the building is wide open, revealing the empty street and seemingly abandoned buildings beyond. “And where is everybody?”
“We don’t know. We came upon the portcullis like this, and it’s as quiet as death outside.” Talvik shivers. “It gives me the creeps. Something doesn’t feel right…”
“Our equipment isn’t here either. Only these benches and this table.” He waves at the benches arrayed around the perimeter of the room. “Well, and this pouch of gold that I liberated.” He reaches down and jiggles a small pouch tied to his belt.

Jayk{9} hunts around for a weapon, as oblivious as everyone else to Gerrick’s vegetative state. His search yields no fruit, and Saima bumps into him as he walks by, heading for the antechamber.
With a sigh, he grabs the keys from the dead jailors belt, thinking it unfortunate and odd that he had no weapon.

“So, which one of our friends here would prove valuable in our attempt to get out of here...and which ones would prove to be a liability?"

Jayk begins the gargantuan task of finding out which prisoners would assist in your escape, through interaction and observation. Your task is made more difficult by the fact that there are usually at least five people in each cell. If you only want one in a particular cell, chances are you will have a fight on your hands.

Kreja{5} swiftly moves towards the iron-bound door, brushing past any reaching arms. Examining the door for a moment with a critical eye, Kreja snorts at the thought of checking to see if it is open. Clenching her fist, she summons up her terralius magic and slams her fist against the wall as she imbues it with power to turn rock to mud.
A thin barrier of a myriad colors, as thin as a piece of paper, springs up right in front of the wall around the door blocking your punch and dispelling your magic.
Your hand smarts from the blow, but that is the last thing on your mind right now as you stare at the barrier as it slowly fades away, admiration swirling through your head at the mage who conjured that particular piece of magic.
This would be harder than you thought.

“So you used to be a bartender?”

“Aye!”

“No.” Jayk sighs, moving on to the next man standing up against the bars of the cell.“What can you contribute?”

“I am a soldier of Feol, ad hoc for dealing with mages or other magickers. They called me Hunter, because I was the best. No one ever escaped me, even after a battle when I went out hunting alone.”

“Hmm…”

Vitr{5} performs the same futile search for his gear that Natania had, giving up after asking her and receiving a “They’re not here!” in reply.
Deciding that his time could be better served helping Jayk, he moves up behind him, and begins to question prisoners on the opposite side Jayk is working.

“My crop was seized by soldiers, who then threw me in here! I’m glad you showed up!”

“Next.”

“My name is Rhyanon. I have no outstanding skills or proficiencies, other than a sheer desire to leave this place.” Her face hardens as she glares at you. “Whether by my own doing, or under the help of somebody else.”

"I like your spirit. We could use someone like you."

While Vitr continues to question men and women of varied ages and professions, he notices a small man in a hooded cloak in the back corner of a cell, his face hidden by shadow. The man seems to see that he has Vitr’s attention, and brings a dagger out from under his cloak, spinning it around his fingers a few times before stowing it back away under his cloak.

How did he get that in here?

After exhaustive questioning, Jayk and Vitr gather the rest of the group around in a circle, and inform them of the candidates they found.

“There is a specialized soldier of our army –well, mine, Vitr’s, Gerrick’s and Kreja’s army we signed up in, a hill dwarf who says that he can trade blows with a giant, a women hunter who boasts that she can shoot an eagle out of the air, an odd man who we didn’t talk to, but seems to have somehow smuggled in a weapon, and a woman who appears to be indomitable by the name of Rhyanon. If we take anyone, I want her. She seems to be the one who is least likely to betray us.”

“I also found a gang of five prisoners who simply claim to be miners. They could be a useful distraction.” Vitr chimes in.

“Interesting... I will leave it to you five to find out who we shall free… wait, where is Gerrick?”

Talvik snorts. “A shady one, he seemed. I bet he went and ran off while none of us were looking.”

Ordal sighs. “We have not the time to look for him. Very well, you four, choose who to take. And have you opened that door at the end of the other hallway?”

“Some sort of magic guards it.” Kreja intones emotionlessly.

“It’s also locked.” Natania adds.
“One would think there would be a key to it. Jayk, you have the jailors keyring, do you not? Try one of those keys on it.”

Opponents:

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

Character Information:

Map of North Reyna Mine:

Roll #32

1 roll left until Saima is removed

“Ugh… we have to release prisoners? I don’t trust any of them... well, except Rhyanon… at least she was honest and bold about not having any useful skills except her spirit."Natania{4} says, fiddling with a splinter on the jailor’s table.

"Does that even count as a skill?" Saima snorts, twirling his dagger between his fingers.

"Yes!"

“I honestly do not care if you choose to release prisoners or not.” Ordal replies, examining his dirty fingernails. “Free them or not, it matters little to me.”

“Right, well that’s my vote then.” Natania quips, turning away from the table as she does so. “Release only Rhyanon!” She calls over her shoulder as she heads back down the hallway to their former cell, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind telling her that she missed something.

“Right…” Vitr{-} (No roll required) begins as Natania moves away. “I say that we release Rhyanon and...” Vitr lowers his voice, speaking in a hushed tone that has the others leaning in close to hear over the hubbub of the prisoners. ”The pack of miners. Then we send them off in one direction telling them it’s the way out, and that we are going the other way to look for others to free. Other than that...I'm up to suggestions. If we have to fight, the others better be worth it..."

“In good conscience, I cannot leave anyone here knowing what Ordal plans for the mine.” Jayk{-}(No roll required) I think we should release everyone that won't outright attack us... give them an equal chance at life. I also think that we should have Rhyanon fall in with us… she seems like a solid companion to make up for Gerrick."

“I agree with Jayk.”Kreja{10} says simply, and Saima nods his assent as well.

Nimbly avoiding the feeble grasps of the prisoners, Natania peers inside the cell, but her eyes, accustomed to the bright torchlight of the main room she just came from cannot make out anything, and Gerrick remains unnoticed in the corner, shuddering as his reverie takes a turn for the worse as the thoughtcatcher warps his memories around him.
Shrugging, figuring that her mind was playing tricks on her, she turns around, heading back to the main room with the intent to meditate for some ability to see magic.

“Stop!” A prisoner calls, and Natania whirls around turn to face him, startled by his harsh tone.

A pale hand practically flies out of the cell, snatching the rolled bit of parchment that has her hand-drawn map of the mine, and pulls it into the cell, right off her belt!

“Hey! Give me back my map!” Natania roars, taking a step towards the cell.

“Then free me!” The voice calls, the speaker hidden by the throng of prisoners.

Hearing what he wants, and that he means to bargain with you for his freedom, disgust wells up inside you. Perhaps these desperate people are in here for a reason other than war…
Spitting on the stone floor, Natania whips around and storms back to the main room, stepping right on top of the severed hand that one of the Red Guards had sliced off a grasping prisoner just a short time ago, but she takes no notice. The map incident has her incensed, and any thought of trying to learn to see magic has flown from her mind.

“So, what is the plan?” Natania snaps as she re-enters the circular room.

“Why so angry?” Saima asks, though it truly seems as if he does not care.

“Stupid prisoner took my map… I hope we are not letting them all out…”

“Sorry, Natania. In this you were outvoted.” Jayk says, turning to Kreja. “You are probably the most capable magic user among us… can you open all of these locks, and bring Rhyanon to us?”

“Of course.” Kreja turns dramatically, waving her hands as she does so, grasping her magic energies and strolling down the hall, melting away any pieces of rock touching the locks. Within moments, the first prisoners are charging out of the building, yelling battle cries and crying of joy, thrilled to be able to get revenge and to be free once more. The companions cluster in a corner of the circular room as throngs of prisoners storm by, making too much noise to be able to speak to eachother. Some slow down and grasp your arms, murmuring heartfelt thanks before moving on.

Finishing one end of the hallway, Kreja turns around and walks back down it, beginning once more at the other end of the hallway, purposefully moving past the cell with Rhyanon in it.
In mere minutes, the entire cell block is devoid of prisoners, and Kreja rejoins the group, Rhyanon at her side.

“Rhyanon, I assume Kreja has told you that we wish for you to travel with us. I believe that you could be of great assistance in my – in our plan. Will you journey with us?”Ordal rumbles, quickly catching his slip.

“I will.” Rhyanon says complacently, seeming so self-assured in her abilities, of which you know none of. “For now.”

“Nice to meet you, Rhyanon. I am Jayk, and-“

“Time for that later!” Ordal growls, leaning forwards, commanding everyone’s attention. “We must move quickly, and with a purpose. Where do we go from here? Guards will soon be swarming all over this area. These prisoners will be cut like wheat before a scythe. I wish to leave this mine, and know how to do so.”

“Interesting that you would be so quick to leave, Ordal… Almost as if you hope we do not run into the Mine-Warden again… I say we hunt him down, and find answers concerning our mysterious… friend, here.” Talvik spits, raising from where he was sitting on a bench to stand nose-to-nose with Ordal.

“I agree!” Saima says, a little too quickly, agreeing with Talvik.

“I wish to leave!” Sala mumbles, wringing her hands.”I have had enough of this! I want to go home! Be with my family once more! Not die unburied in some glorified tomb!”

“Reyna, what do you want?” Talvik asks, but Ordal waves his hand dismissively.

“She cannot speak. As a bound spirit, she neither cares nor wastes any time thinking about our world.”

Ordal turns to the rest of you. “What do you wish to do?”

New player: Rhyanon(Shinobody)
----------------------------------

Character Information:

Roll #33

Saima is now removed from inactivity.

"We should focus on survival first. For one, we need to acquire weapons. Whether we head for the surface or look for the Warden, we won't get far without them. I can't fight off a swarm of guards-" Jayk{-}(No roll necessary, actions minor.) holds up his ring of keys and jingles them noisily. "-with these."

“Thanks for the visual aid.” Saima says dryly, sheathing his dagger he had been twirling around.

“I agree with Jayk.” Natania{4} says with some difficulty, her mind seething with rage at the unanswered insult the prisoner had given her, in the form of stealing her map. It had been a challenge issued, she knew, and one that she had failed to answer. She starts to walk in circles around the room, slapping her fist against her thigh as she does so. It elicits a few stares of confusion, but it helps her calm her nerves better when she is moving.
Following that thought, Natania moves off towards the locked door, once more with the intent to try and see magic by practicing on the door.

“I agree with Talvik. I want answers from the Warden. Answers it seems that Ordal is unable to provide.” Kreja{5} says, fixing Ordal in a distrusting stare, before turning to Jayk. “I recommend that you try using those keys on the locked door.”

Taking a few steps away from the others, Kreja holds up her palms to face the ceiling, calling on the shadow to take shape in her palms. Just as they begin to move, they stop, and slide back into the recesses where they were before.

“What…?” Kreja mutters, trying again, to the same results. Her mind racing, she quickly comes to a reasonable conclusion.
Something else is ordering the shadow to stay put.
Closing her eyes, Kreja tries to locate the being with her mind, oblivious to the thought of warning her companions.

Jayk gives a nod in agreement to Kreja’s suggestion, and follows the route Natania took, turning the corner just in time to see Natania get blasted back by a magical pulse from the door, the waves of air pushed back by the pulse visible to the eye as they roll down the hall.
Natania’s limp body crashes to the floor in front of Jayk, who gives a slight cry of concern.

“Natania!” He shouts, kneeling down and shaking her shoulder.

“Wha-?” Natania gives a start, rising halfway up off the floor. “Why happ'n?”

“What?What were you trying to do?”

“Everything alright?” Vitr’s head pops out around the corner.

“I’m fi'e… jus' bit…dizzy?” Natania mumbles, phrasing it like a question.

“Hookay… let’s bring you back over here…” Jayk says, grabbing one of her arms and lifting her up, as Vitr does the same to the other. “Now, can you tell us what happened?”

“I trie' see magic, the door says 'no', and hit me!” Natania slurs, her feet dragging as Vitr and Jayk bring her back into the circular room.

“Right…”

“is she alright?” Rhyanon asks, concerned at how the loss of a group member could affect her chances of escaping. For all her warm feelings towards her new companions, her calculating nature is always at work.

“I think so… apparently she tried to do something magic-related to the door, and it defended itself. Somehow.” Jayk responded, as he and Vitr lowered Natania onto a bench.

“Right… I’ll just sthhayhay her' for a tym, Alex.” Natania said cheerily.

“I suppose I’ll go back and try the keys on the door then.” Jayk says, Vitr{1} acquiescing to the idea with a nod. Deciding on a whim to try and remember some of his past martial art skills, he moves away from the others, and begins to move through a few unarmed motions clumsily, trying to remember the technique.
As such, he does not feel the vibrations in the ground beneath him.

“Another prison to escape from. Sorry of my life.” Rhyanon{5} complains, following Jayk, figuring that there would be good equipment behind the door, though she is oblivious to his confusion at her malapropism.

Note:

Moving to the door, Jayk tries key after key, fitting each into the lock and trying to turn it, changing the key after each unsuccessful attempt. While he does this, Rhyanon closes her eyes and searches her mind, trying to remind herself of the knife skills she used to have. After all, she hadn’t used them in ages, since she had first been captured after raiding that one seemingly defenseless village with her squad, and she doubts that they will be as sharp as they used to.
But she cannot focus, her mind a whirl with escape plans already. She just wants to get out, and that’s all her mind is focusing on.
A curse from Jayk brings her away from her reverie, a small spark having leapt from the door to Jayk’s hand, shocking him slightly. Luckily it was more bark than bite, turning out to be innocuous.

“Hope this one works… we only have a few left to try.” Jayk remarks to Rhyanon, fitting a small key into the lock.

It didn’t, but the next one did.
A high pitched buzz, like that of electricity, filled the air, and the door swung inwards, the magic wards seemingly diffused.
Inside was a small, square room with a circular table in the middle. Weapons and armor filled the room, hanging on hooks driven into the walls. On the table sat four shields, identical to the ones you had earlier.
Rhyanon lets out a low whistle, and Jayk turns around to face the room where everyone else is, calling:

“Everyone! Gear ahoy!”

Ordal and Talvik turned towards the sound, and Kreja opens her eyes, distracted from her search by Jayk’s voice.
Just in time for the floor where Vitr stands erupts outwards with an ear-crushing concussive sound, sending him flying across the room to land in a heap next to Saima, shattering his left shoulder as it slams into the floor.
Dust and shards of rock peppered the room, obscuring everyone’s vision, and a deafening roar shakes even more particles from the ceiling.
Kreja casts out her mind, searching for shadow, and finds some.

“The creature I summoned back in the chasm! It’s here!”

Jayk and Rhyanon see dust swirl out into the hallway, completely blocking their vision.

“What's going on?” Jayk shouted, beginning to run towards the dust cloud.

A hand slaps down on his shoulder, spinning him around.

“Weapons! Then we can actually be of use!” Rhyanon hisses, pulling him towards the weapons room.

Enviromental Effects
Applied to anyone currently in the circular room (Everyone but Jayk and Rhyanon)
Vision obscured by dust (Cannot see anything unless it is right in front of you. Lasts 2 turns, or until blown away.)

Gear available in room:

Note:

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

Character Information:

Roll #34

“Right!” Jayk{9} whirls around, sprinting into the armory, Rhyanon right behind him. Confused shouts sound out from the jailors room, inspiring Rulyon to whisk items off the shelves and gear up with speed unmatched by Rhyanon, quick as she is.

Snatching up a bow and a quiver of arrows that appears only two-thirds full, he tosses them out the doorway to land a few feet beyond. Pulling a shortsword off a rack, he belts it around his waist, then sprints back towards the door, slinging a shield onto his back as he passes the table.

“What beast is she screaming about? Because that does NOT sound like one of a kind of fun." Rhyanon asks as he passes her.

“A beast of living shadow. You'll have to see it to understand.” Jayk calls back over his shoulder as he passes.

“Beast of... living... shadow? “ She asks, but Jayk is already out the door

Joining these guys was my best. Decision. Ever. Rhyanon thinks to herself, heading towards the weapon racks.

Collecting his thrown equipment outside the armory, Jayk ties the quiver on the side of his belt opposite his shortsword, and pulls an arrow, knocking it to his bow. Holding it in place with one hand by use of his forefinger, his other hand hunts through his pockets for the ring of keys, bringing them up and jangling them noisily as soon as he locates them.

Staring hard into the cloud of dust, Jayk readies himself to drop the keys and let fly an arrow if an unfamiliar form shows its hide…

Natania{7 – 1(Mind addled) = 6} frantically looks around, slapping her face with both hands as she searches for some reason as to why the ground is shaking. Her vision is completely obscured by dust, however, so she cannot see a thing.

Not to mention, her scrambled mind isn’t helping matters. Slowly, the feeling fades, but by that time Natania has already rolled under her bench, eyes wide as she tries to observe the situation, but the dust is an unyielding wall.

Suddenly realizing that she was drooling, she disgustedly wipes her mouth, hoping that that’s all the damage the door would have done.

Back in the armory, Rhyanon{10} gears up in body armor, also grabbing a crossbow and a quiver from a rack, and tying two omnite and mansine daggers each under her belt. Running to the doorway, she flattens herself against it and peers out over Jayk’s shoulder, trying to see what the hell is going on. Swinging her crossbow onto her back and securing her quiver on her hip, Rhyanon unsheathes her two omnite daggers, and prepares herself to leap in front of Jayk if anyone she doesn’t recognize comes near, to give them a warm hug with two daggers.

“The seven fires!” Talvik curses, waving his hands about as he tries to clear the air around him. “I’ll be damned if I’m to die in a cloud of dirt!”

“Shut up!” Ordal’s hiss silences the clamor everyone is making, revealing a jangling sound coming from a short ways away, and a sliding noise as something drags itself up through the shattered floor. “To the jingling!”

Kreja{8} keeps her calm head as always, dropping to her hands and knees to hunt for Vitr. Sensing that the beast is directly in front and to the left of her, and using her memory of Vitr flying through the air directly away from the beast before the dust shielded the room, it only takes Kreja a short time to locate Vitr.
Of course, it helps that he is crying out for help.

Grasping his good arm, Kreja strains her ears, hunting for the noise of the keys.

Finding way out of dust check
D10 (5- fail, 6+ success)
8 + 2(Jayk’s key jangling) = 10

Her keen ears picking up the sound immediately, it is difficult physically but easy directionally for Kreja to drag a groaning Vitr in the direction of the noise, navigating through the room safely, and coming out of the cloud in short order.

“Vitr’s hurt!” She gasps, trying to catch her breath from dragging a heavy male across an uneven floor.

Rhyanon sprints over to help, Jayk continuing his shaking of the keys, trying to draw more of his companions to the sound.

Once Vitr is safely in the armory, Rhyanon and Kreja both whirl around, Rhyanon retaking her position, Kreja crouching down and raising her arms up before her, elbows bent so her arms are in front of her chest.
She knows that the creature knows where she is. This, she knows, is a bad thing.
She bets that the creature knows that, too.

Hesitantly, Vitr{3 -3 = 1} chooses to try and charge his White-Hand, his mind working past the intense pain from his shoulder to figure that some firepower will be needed to take down this beast.
Power rushes into his hand, and Vitr attempts to close the flow.

More energy, vibrating with power, courses into his hand, his symbol beginning to glow white.
“No! Stop!” Vitr growls, mustering his willpower, frantically trying to seal off the flow.

Note:

“What is it?” Jayk and Rhyanon turn around, just as an expression of excruciating pain erupts onto Vitr’s face, and his hand, his glorious, white hand, explodes.

Blood and bone splatter across the room, and Vitr’s ensuing shrieks of pain reverberate around the entire cell complex. Blood pumps out from the stump of his right hand, serving only to cause Vitr to shriek even louder.

“Oh, by the maker.” Jayk gasps, his face going white. Rhyanon simply stands there staring, her mouth wide open with shock. Kreja turns around, her eyes going wide at the gruesome site.

The good side to Vitr’s screams are that they guide the rest of your companions out of the room and down the hall.

(Yes, this means that no one is in the room where the dust is, to clear up any confusion before it begins.)
The bad side is that they also draw the creature.

With an unholy roar, eight tendrils of shadow fly out from the cloud of dust, still obscuring the creature. They swerve unerringly towards the one person closest to it: Sala.

Shadow Beast attack roll
D6 + 8(Shadow Tendrils) = D14
11

Sala defense roll
No roll required, impossible to roll high enough.

The eight tendrils weave independently about each other, striking as one at Sala, each aiming for a different spot.

Sala is impaled eight times at once, though mercifully, her death is instant, blood splattering onto the floor in front of her stunned companions.

The tendrils shoot back into the obscuring dust, catching an arrow from Jayk as Sala’s body is dragged with it. A ghastly cry of pain sounds from the beast, and Sala’s body disappears into the dust.
“I need gear!” Ordal and Talvik rush into the armory, Reyna following slowly, as always, emotionless, as always.

Upon seeing Vitr, Ordal drops to his knees in front of him. “I need a strip of cloth! NOW!”

Gear available in room:

Note:

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

Character Information:

Roll #35

“Holy…” Saima trails off as he slips into the room, staring at Vitr’s stump with wide eyes.

“Move!” Jayk{8} shoulders past Saima, dropping to his knees beside his fallen friend opposite of Ordal, who is scanning the room, searching for cloth. Grasping Vitr’s forearm with his left hand, Jayk closes the fingers of his right hand on the wrist of the same arm, just below the cut-off point.

"C'mon, Vitr, Sala's gone and we really need you! Don't you dare bleed out on me!" Mentally ripping open the barrier of his Mark of Wonder, Jayk channels all the energy he can muster into Vitr’s arm, focusing on regenerating his lost hand. Vitr cries out in pain as he feels a powerful throb in his wrist , and as Jayk’s hands burn white, everyone in the room is blinded for a moment. Almost immediately after Jayk’s hands began glowing they cease, revealing everyone a fantastic view of Vitr’s new hand, looking like an exact replica of the one he had just lost.

“Jayk…” Vitr gasps, clasping his wrists with his hands. “I… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Now if only I could have to heal Natania… I owe her one.”

Vitr smiles, moving to get up.

“Stay down for a minute, Vitr. Familiarize yourself with that new hand… I wouldn’t want you to suddenly find that you can’t grab something in the middle of a fight, damning all of us as a result.” Ordal says, putting his hand on Vitr’s right shoulder and pushing down.

“A minute? No. Not that long.” A determined Vitr grunts, flexing his hand as he opens and closes it in rapid succession.

Nodding, Ordal moves away, beginning to gear up. Rulyon starts away too, but stops as he notices something.
“Vitr… your hand isn’t white anymore. Can you still…?

He shakes his head. “No. I don’t feel any power in my hand anymore… hopefully it’s not permanent…”

"Damned no rope..." Natania{6} mutters as she pulls off her armor, undoing the straps where necessary, letting the pieces fall to the floor. Grabbing only new gloves, bracers, and boots, she also takes a shield and slings it onto her back. Tying two shortswords and two thick-bladed daggers on her belt, she also munches down two packets of food, not bothering to even check what they were, securing the empty pouches on her belt as well and putting her panlal claw in one. Finally, two packets of food and two bottles of water go in her pack.
Peering out the door, getting jostled as those outside quickly rush in, Natania sees three very important things.
One, the dust cleared.

Two, Sala’s motionless body is lying on the floor in a puddle of her own blood, but the beast is nowhere to be seen.
Three, a stranger is likewise peering around the rounded corner of the circular room at her.

The man, seeing that he has been spotted, steps out into the hallway. “Hello? Th’ names Klyen… I’m one of the prisoners who you freed?”

“What of it?” Natania asks suspicously, wary of the shadow-beasts sudden disappearance. The others look up as they hear Kylen, and move over to watch him from the doorway.

“Well, I realized that I really had no idea where I was going… and I figured that you guys would have an idea of where to go… May I join you? I don't care where we go, as long as the eventual goal is to get out of here.”

Natania looks back into the room, hunting for Ordal, the groups unofficial leader. Meeting his gaze, he gives a slight shrug, then a slow nod a few moments after.

“Very well, but get in here and gear up quickly!” Natania calls, sending Klyen into an easy jog down the hall.

“What’s the rush?”

“Aside from the guards and other things in the mine trying to kill us? Oh, only a damned shadow creature!” Talvik replies harshly, grabbing a longsword and a few packs of food and water.

“Shadow-beast? Interesting. The names Klyen.”

New Player: Klyen (Anailater)

“Oh right!” Natania snaps her fingers, moving over to her discarded armor. Ripping a long strip of cloth from the black tabard, she tosses it to Ordal, who immediately drops it.

“It was for a tourniquet. As Vitr’s bleeding has stopped, I doubt I’ll need it now.”

Examining the rack of shortswords, Kreja{6} takes the two that seem the most balanced off, testing their edge and weight. With a satisfied nod, she ties the sheathed swords to her belt. Closing her eyes, Kreja casts her shadow-senses through the whole building, and as far under it as she can manage.
Without a doubt, the creature has left, though where to and why is a question that will undoubtedly be answered soon enough.

Shinobody{-}(Action voided, target gone) roams her gaze around the room, searching for torches. Seeing only those damn glowing rocks, she breathes a frustrated sigh.

“Damned lightstones.”

Pulling out her crossbow, she loads a bolt.
Ordal grabs a few packets of food as well, gulping down a bottle of water as her does so, before taking some to add to his pack as well. He walks by the table with the shields on it, grabbing one almost as an afterthought.

“Secure the building, everyone. Klyen, gear up, then meet us in the main room. Vitr, if you need help moving, ask. That shoulder looks a tad… screwed.”

And out the door he went, Reyna, his constant shadow following him. Talvik makes a few obscene gestures at his back, muttering profanities concerning anything Ordal-related. Drawing his newly acquired longsword, Talvik begins sweeping through the cells on the left, one by one. Saima hops-to as well, grabbing a longsword and some food ‘n’ water, along with a bow and a quiver of arrows before he begins suiting up in a full set of armor.

Game Effects: Applied to Jayk, Vitr, Kreja, and Rhyanon
Hungry (Turns to Very hungry in 5 turns)
Game Effects: Applied to Jayk, Vitr, Kreja, Rhyanon and Natania
Thirsty (Turns to Very thirsty in 3 turns)

Gear available in room:

Note:

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

Character Information:

Roll #36

A strange gurgling noise fills the room, Jayk wincing and clutching his stomach to accompany the sound.

“Jayk! Are you okay? What’s happening?” Natania cries, rushing over with her palm glowing from her healing energy.

“I’m… hungry.”

She straightens, glow vanishing abruptly. “Oh.”

Jayk{10} moves over to a shelf, taking a packet of food and a bottle of water off. Un-wrapping the packet, he finds a few pieces of meat he cannot identify garnished with blackvein lettuce, pressed between two slices of bread spotted with grains. Pleasantly surprised; he had been expecting something akin to hardtack, Jayk scarfs it down, pulling off the bottle’s leather cap as he does so, quaffing it in no time.

“Well, that hit the spot.” He says to no one in particular, as he stuffs one of his pouches with three packs of food and six bottles of water. Moving over to a corner of the storeroom, he plops down, cross-legged, and leans his back against the wall. Heaving a sigh – it seems like it has been ages since he was last able to rest – he brushes the annoying ever-present lock of jet-black hair out of his face (to no avail, since it promptly falls back down) and closes his eyes.

Jayk races through his mind, seeking some trance, some skill, anything concerning archery. Soon enough, he finds himself in what his mind’s eye perceives to be a glade, though like everything one finds in their mind, it seems to be fabricated of small glowing circles, vibrating slightly against each other. Brown ones of varying shades make up the trunks of trees, a myriad of different greens make up the leaves and grass. A few large boulders are scattered around the dell as well, wildflowers growing between them.

A thwap sounds behind him, and Jayk whirls around to see a tall, thin elf with tanned skin and golden hair shooting arrows at a target across the glade. Unlike everything else, the elf, his bow and arrows, and the straw target appear as if they came from the real world.

“One clean motion, draw and shoot.” The elf says in a melodious voice, doing precisely as he says, pegging the target, a good fifty feet away, in the eye.
“Watch the target, not some creature charging you down. Never take your eyes off the target.” A huge, charcoal-gray orc, appearing as though it also came from the corporeal world, materializes a few feet in front of the elf. Roaring, it whips out a wicked serrated blade, and leaps at the elf.

Who knocks an arrow with lighting speed, bringing it up and releasing in one fluid motion, the arrow sailing under the orc’s raised arm to strike the target in its other eye. The elf sidesteps the orc’s swing, drawing another arrow and firing it point-blank into the orc’s ear. It vanishes into a cloud of grey dust.

“Think of nothing but the target. Empty your mind… see nothing but the path your arrow will take to your target. Your mind should be blank… masters call this the “dead gaze”. You will not blink, you will not move, other than to release your arrow. Master that skill, and that equivocal name’s second meaning will become apparent… you will never miss. Any enemy in your sights is as good as dead, but you must empty your mind!”

The elf fades away, leaving nothing but the bow, a quiver, and the target. While Jayk immediately begins to practice his archery, using the elf’s advice (a few orcs even appear to provide pressure at some points) he cannot help but wonder who the elf was, as he is sure that the elf was certainly no figment of his imagination. The whole experience reminds you of how back in the Deep Mines, when you gained your healing powers… an unsettling thought indeed, for it seemed as if that man too, was real.

Suddenly pulled back to your body, you groggily shake your hand, and put a hand on your bow as you stand up. You feel a part of your mind suddenly grow very… aware?
A poor word choice it seems, but that is exactly what it feels like.

Klyen{7 – 2(attempting to learn magic without a teacher) = 5} suits up in a full set of mine guard armor, getting help from Kreja to cinch up the straps. Nodding his thanks, he takes a longsword and ties it to his belt, a shield to compliment the sword is swung onto his back. Taking up a crossbow, he sights down it a moment, nodding before moving over to the shortened quivers holding the bolts. Figuring that he would be firing off bolts like a small spoiled child eats candy, he takes all three quivers, tying them onto the opposite side of his belt to the longsword.

“Well, I’m geared up!” He announces excitedly, moving over to lean against the storerooms left wall with the intention of learning how to do a bit of elementalist magic.

“Good for you.” Saima comments as he walks by, beginning to search the cells on the opposite side of the ones Talvik is scanning through.

Closing his eyes, Klyen tries to focus, he truly does, but the recent excitement gets the best of him. He cannot focus, his mind buzzing with the anticipation of escaping the mine, of getting revenge on those who run the mine, of…
With a sigh, Klyen moves out of the storeroom, heading towards the circular section of the complex. He would simply have to try again later, when he isn’t so ebullient.

Vitr{6 – 2 = 4} rubs his hands together with glee. “Finally, I can get some weapons again! Daggers, here I come!”
Jayk looks at him curiously, surprised at the uncharacteristic descant. Generally Vitr is rather quiet, a fact that is accentuated by his often-bold actions.

Grabbing the two remaining mansine daggers, he marvels for a moment at their sharp edge when he inspects them. Vitr carefully re-sheathes the deadly blades, tying them on his belt, and then doing the same for two of the standard thick-bladed daggers. While they may not be as useful for attacking, their thick-blade makes up for that with an easier defense than thinner blades on daggers. Taking up a bow and an approximately half-empty quiver, he also takes a packet of food and a bottle of water each, finding that that is all he could fit in his pouch. His growling stomach and dry throat makes him briefly think about partaking in a brief refreshment, but Vitr figures that he has more important things to do. Placing the food and water beside him as he sits down beside Jayk, he offers a quick word of greeting. Jayk nods in acknowledgement, his thoughts elsewhere. Closing his eyes, Vitr leans back with the intention of meditating to learn any abilities…
And smacks his injured shoulder hard against the unyielding stone wall.

“Son of a three-balled five-tongued six-eyed bastard orc whose mother is a goblin wench living in a ramshackle…” Vitr curses up a storm insulting any creature of strange anatomy within earshot, moving to grab his shoulder with his other hand, then stopping himself just in time. Waves of pain assail him once more, the fading sting rekindled with the contact against the wall.

“You alright?” Jayk asks, concern showing on his face. Kreja, Natania and Rhyanon look over as well with a similar look on their features.

“I will be once this damn shoulder heals up!”

Her throat dry, Natania{9} snatches up a leftover bottle of water and drains it of its contents. The water is rather warm, but at least it assuages her parched throat. Seeing the clear bottle, an interesting thought comes to her mind. Could Kreja catch a shadow-beast in one of these, similar to a genie? How useful that would be! A quick toss, and suddenly any enemy would be feeling a little less confident!

“Kreja!” She calls, tossing her the bottle as she turns around. “Do you think you could catch a shadow-beast in that?”

“What, like a genie?” Kreja replies, examining the bottle. “It’s an interesting thought, to say the least…” She says, putting the empty bottle down on the table beside her. “Perhaps I’ll look into it.”

Nodding, Natania sits down on the floor, meditating on her healing power, thinking of increasing its potency. In her mind, Natania almost instantly sees a soft glowing white light drifting down towards her from on high. Shocked at how quickly she is getting results from her introspection. Tendrils of white gently envelope her, and she feels a warm sensation on the palm she does her healing with. A general feeling of wellness soothes her, and she opens her eyes, back in the corporeal realm once more. Turning over her right hand, the one she heals with, she finds that she has a small golden circle with a white line running vertically through it in the center of her palm.

Munching down on a tasty, if unidentifiable, sandwich and some water, Kreja{5} quickly feels content, her belly full, throat soothed. Taking two packs of food and bottles of water, she stows them away in her pouch, before setting about with the intention of finding material to make a carrying device. A pouch, bag, mangled mess of fabric… whichever.

Her search, while extensive, fails to turn up any fruit, no suitable material revealing itself. Deciding to head to the circular room, you voice your intentions.

“I suppose we should mosey-on down there, shouldn’t we?” Saima says, to the agreement of everyone else.

“At last, not these prison rations! One second…” Rhyanon{9} cries, snatching an armful of food and bottles off the shelves. Guzzling the water and shoving the food down her throat, she meets the disgusted stares of her companions with a shrug and a simple explanation: ”I’ve been eating nothing fit to be called food rations for too long now. What can I say?”

“You could always say ‘excuse me’.” Kreja remarks dryly, as Rhyanon stows a food packet and two bottles of water in her pouch. “Now let’s go.”

“Gather around, everyone.” Ordal says once the whole gang is assembled in the circular room.

“I have a fugue questions first…” Rhyanon says, eliciting uncomprehending stares from everyone, until Ordal deciphers what she thought she said.

“Alright, what?”

“Well, first I’d like to start with an easy one… What are you, Ordal, doing here? I know everyone else was a prisoner… well, except maybe Talvik…”

“No, I too am one, I just found my gear after I escaped. What is Ordal doing here? A fine question…”

“Talvik, please don’t-“

Talvik speaks right over Ordal, raising his voice to drown him out. “The bastard won’t tell us, won’t even tell me, a man who has been in this mine for over TWO YEARS because of him. Ask your questions, Rhyanon, and join us once we escape this place to find out, truly, who this supposed ‘person’ is.”

“I am a human, Talvik, that much is apparent. You don’t need to say ‘person’ like that. I beg you all to have patience with me, for this is not the time for a rather lengthy tale about me. Now…”

“I’m not finished.” Rhyanon cuts in, silencing Ordal. “What is the plan once we get out of this mine?”

“We raid the outbuildings just outside for winter furs, hoping that the other escapees haven’t taken everything. We will be in Rathmut Valley, and head across it, a few-day’s journey, at least. We head to a hideout I have near Rosenbark, and then I tell you all everything.”Ordal replies, leaning forwards on the deceased jailors desk. “Any more questions?”

“Nope.”

“Good. We have two choices of where to go from here. We either head to the Mine-Wardens quarters, as you had wanted to before, or we get out of here. Choose.”

“To the Mine-Warden. I shan’t let an opportunity to learn about you before you want us to pass me by, friend.” Talvik sneered.

“I agree with Talvik.” Saima says. “While there will certainly be a fight to reach it, I can lead us to his offices. I know where they are.”

Vote on what to do, players.

Gear available in room:

Note:

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

Character Information:

Roll #37

Note:

"Personally,” Natania{7} says, her mouth full as she munches down her other two packets of food. “I really do not mind either choice. But if I have to choose, it would be to head to the Mine-Warden's quarters. My reason being that we were caught too easily at the entrance. For all we know, the Warden might have another map with secret passages." She fiddles with the packets the food was in; a thin, papery substance. While she has no twine, a few threads from her jumpsuit nicely creates a small pouch with the material, though since said material is rather weak, it won’t be able to hold much.

"I say Mine Warden's quarters as well,”Jayk{1} says.” The information we may gather is valuable, true, but I have another reason in mind as well. It would be wise not to leave an enemy with such a grudge at our backs. He had absolute power here...that kind of thing tends to warp people. They become possessive of the power; they feel it is their rightful due. When we destroy this mine...we'll make a horrid enemy of him. Not only will he be mad with authority, but he is a formidable man in his own right. Whether it's through power of magic or metal, or his capability of leadership, he would not have been made Warden of this mine by the enemy were he not someone of impressive power. Were we to leave here without destroying him, our own lives would be forfeit...sooner or later. Our best bet is to try for him now; catch him off guard in his own place when he expects us to fight our way to the exit for freedom. He undoubtedly plans to set a trap for us somewhere between here and the exit. Let's trap him instead."

“A valid point, Jayk. But perhaps he is expecting us to do the unexpected?” Ordal supplies as Jayk leans down to try and heal Vitr’s shoulder. “I know from experience that the Mine-Warden is a man who thinks ahead.”

Jayk, his palm glowing, opens his mouth to answer, but then a bemused look comes over him, and he stares at his palm, lightly touching Vitr’s shoulder, who is gritting his teeth at the contact.

“My… my power… it’s not doing anything…” With a sharp crack and a bright flash, Jayk’s hand ceases to glow, the light winking out as if someone had flicked a switch. “What the…” He mutters, removing his hand from Vitr’s shoulder, and trying to conjure up his healing power again.

Nothing happens.

“While I am in no way an expert on these strange powers you people are able to obtain, it seems to me that you may need to refrain from using it for a while… perhaps you need to recharge?” Talvik asks more than states, though his words seem to ring true. After all, you had just regrown a hand!

“I hope so… this would be a terrible ability to lose after having saved us so many times.”

“Well, back on topic…”Klyen{5} says, leaning forwards. “I say we go to the Warden’s quarters. It may have great loot.”

“We’re not treasure-hunting here! This is life or death!” Ordal snaps, slamming his fist down on the table. “I can’t believe that all of you wish to go to the Warden’s quarters… that’s practically asking for a horrible, painful death! And why? Because you want to find out more about me! You think I’m hiding some important, world-changing secret!”

“Save your tirade for when we are out of here.” Talvik says scathingly. “We are entitled to go where we wish.”

Klyen moves away from the rest with the intention of practicing his swordplay, but as he tries to draw his sword with a flourish, it flies out of his grip and spins end-over-end across the room, almost carving Talvik a new face and slicing off Kreja’s ear. It strikes the opposite wall with a clang, and falls to the floor.
Everyone turns to stare at you with shock and anger plain on their face.

“Um… sorry…” Klyen mumbles, moving to retrieve his blade. “I’ll just… practice later…”

“I say we go with the original plan. We head to the Warden’s quarters.” Vitr{9 – 2 = 7} says, standing with a grimace. “Thanks for trying, Jayk.” He says, mumbling a few choice words about his “damn shoulder”. “It’s starting to feel better anyway.” Moving back to the storeroom, Vitr feasts on some food and water, quenching his thirst and sating his hunger. Searching the room for a way to carry some more, he spots a small pouch behind the lines of water containers. Snatching it up, he ties it on, not too happy about its ugly dirt-brown color, but not complaining. Who needs fashion, anyway?

Vitr heads back to the circular room, reaching there just in time to hear Kreja’s{8} vote.

“To the Warden’s quarters, as per our last vote.” She says. Noting Vitr returning, and his free-swinging shoulder, she rolls up the sleeves on her jumpsuit and moves over to him, calling on her Terralius magic as she does so.
“This may hurt.” Is the only warning Vitr gets, as Kreja grabs his shoulder with both hands and begins casting.
Vitr’s eyes snap shut, and he cries out an indecipherable sound of pain as his arm glows for an instant before the light winks out, as abruptly as it came. Vitr slowly opens his eyes, rotating his left shoulder as Kreja lets go.

“I… thank you, Kreja.” He says, rather surprised.

She nods, walking back to the table and rolling down her sleeves as she goes.

"Only a fool acts into rush without gathering any intelligence. So, I opt for Mine-Wardens quarters. Besides, I guess they won't expect us to go there.”Rhyanon{-} says.

Unless they expect Mister Ordal to do something unexpected. She thinks to herself, refraining from voicing that thought aloud.

Quaffing a container of water and tossing the empty bottle on the floor, Saima{3} wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then speaks.

“’Guess it’s decided, then. I’ll lead you all to the Mine-Warden’s quarters. We ready to go?”
Choruses of affirmatives come back at Saima, and he nods. “Let’s go.”

Stepping out of the jail complex in a cluster, hands on your weapons, you find much less chaos than you thought you would. Bodies of prisoners or guards are scattered around, and a few buildings are on fire, but the only sounds you hear are in the distance, the noise of battle and cries of pain that accompany a mass jailbreak.
Saima sets off to the left, the rest of you falling in behind him. He swerves seemingly unerringly through the streets and alleyways. You spot clusters of escaped prisoners dashing through the streets, some fighting with guards, but Saima avoids them. Soon enough he turns down a street, ending up beside a squat, grey-brick square tower. “It’s just past this tower.” Saima says loudly, eliciting a “Quiet!” from Ordal.

But it was too late. A trio of guards appear on the tower’s battlements, leveling crossbows your groups way.

“Drop your weapons! NOW!” One of them roars, as three more guards rush out the tower door, weapons at the ready. The door swings shut behind them, evidently closed by yet more guards inside.

“Whups.” Saima mumbles, holding his hands up in the air, turning to face the guards.

Enemies:

Character Information:

Roll #38

Not bothering to dignify the guard’s demand with a response, Jayk{9} pulls his bow off his shoulder, knocking an arrow and leveling it at one of the crossbowmen. Without losing focus as he takes careful aim, Jayk recognizes Ordal leaping past him, longsword drawn and shield leading. Knowing that the guards nearest him will be blocked by Ordal, Jayk pushes them out of his mind, concentrating on his target as he learned to in his mind. Focusing on the slight gap where the guard’s helmet meets his chainmail, Jayk takes a quick breath.
He releases the arrow, just as the crossbowmen raises his weapon Jayk’s way.

Jayk attack roll
D6 + 2(Sprywood Bow) + 1(Redoak arrows) + 2(Archery Concentration: Roll of 9 = bonus of 2) +1(Good shot(From 9)) + Armor Bypassed = D12
8

Pracus defense roll
D6 + 1(Trained) = D7
No chance.

The arrow hums through the air, striking the crossbowmen right on target between his armor with a sound akin to stabbing a block of wood and a spurt of blood.
Must be his spine.
The guard collapses, wheezing, trying desperately to get air through his ruined throat.
Everyone else stops, including the guards, staring at Jayk with wide eyes. A shot like that few people could pull off, and those few would be master archers.

“I surrender!” Mar squeals, dropping his crossbow to the floor of the tower. “Don’t kill me!”

A blade erupts from his chest, blood flying. Mar jerks, then falls still.
The blade retracts and Mar topples, affording you all a view of the culprit.
A huge man garbed in the red of the warden’s personal guard stands there, wiping his blade on his tabard. His helm is not like the traditional ones, instead having the gold likeness of a falcon superimposed on the front, a gap in the feathers on either side forming eyeholes, the bird’s beak forming the nose-guard.
“So you have escaped… well, I always did like a challenge.” The Red-Guard laughs. “How the Warden shall reward me when I bring him the escaped instigators!” Turning to the other guard, he fixes her with a glare. “Fight or die...by my hand.” Whirling away, he disappears from view, obviously heading down the tower.
Recognizing that the Red-Guard would likely bring yet more guards out with him, Ordal launches himself at Narais with a fury that would be difficult to match, shield leading.

Ordal attack roll
D6 + 2(Omnite Longsword) + 2(Strong)+ 3(Adept Blade Wielder) = D13
11

Narais defense roll
D6 +3(Body armor) +1(Trained) – Weapon reach bonus neutralized: opponent has a shield. =D10
No chance +0.5(Omnite Great-axe) = No chance

Ordal’s shield slams into Narais, sending him stumbling back. Before he can recover, Ordal brings his sword-arm under his shield, stabbing upwards and piercing Narais’ heart.
He drops without a sound.

Rhyanon{4} drops to a crouch and aims her crossbow at the remaining guard on the tower, but Anvir notices her action and slings his dagger at her. Rhyanon catches the movement out of the corner of her eye and scrambles to block the missile.

Anvir attack roll
D6 + 1(Thrown Omnite Thick-bladed dagger) +1(Trained) = D8
4

Rhyanon defense roll
D6 + 3(Body armor) +1(Reigntree wood crossbow) =D10
3
Crossbow strength test, breaks on 1:
1

That must suck:

Rhyanon turns her crossbow to the side and twists, putting it in the path of the dagger, which shears right through one of the crossbow’s arms, continuing on to bury itself halfway up her arm, the chainmail doing nothing to stop the blades sharp tip.

“Gah!” Rhaynon gasps, dropping the ruined crossbow to the ground and clutching her arm, pulling out the dagger with shaking fingers. The wound isn’t too bad, provided you can withstand the pain.The bleeding doesn’t appear like it will be dangerous unless you neglect to put a bandage on.
It’s not too good either. As Rhyanon flexes her arm, a burst of pain shoots up it. Realizing that until it heals she will get the same reaction from it, she hopes this fight won’t require her left arm.

Vitr{6} pulls out his mansine daggers, throwing them at the two remaining guards who came out the door. Having aimed for the guard’s hands, hoping to incapacitate them, he immediately sees that his aim was off, as the one of the daggers spins towards a guards head, the other to the opposite guard’s chest.

Vitr 1st attack roll
D6 + 5(Mansine slim-bladed dagger) =D11
11
Dagger strength test, breaks on 1, 2, 3:
3

Priat defense
D6 +1(Helmet) +2(Omnite circular shield) +1(Trained)= D10
No chance

The first dagger pierces through the Mine-guard’s helmet as if it were paper, the blade snapping halfway-off as it enters the guard’s skull.
Priat dies instantly, not even able to curse his useless helmet.

Vitr 2nd attack roll
D6 + 5(Mansine slim-bladed dagger) -1(Second attack)=D10
10
Dagger strength test, breaks on 1, 2, 3:
1

Anvir defense roll
D6 +3(Armor) +2(Omnite shortsword) + 1(Trained)=D12
10

Re-roll:

Vitr:
6

Anvir:
7

The second guard, Anvir, bats the dagger out of the air with his shortsword, the brittle mansine cracking in two as his sword contacts it.

Klyen{9} glances around for cover. Finding nothing but the corner of a building on the other side of the street, he sprints for it, swinging his crossbow off his shoulder as he does so. Sliding around the corner, he puts his back to the wall, expecting a crossbow bolt to whistle around the corner.
None does, so Klyen decides to teach the crossbow-guard their folly for not considering him a threat. Peeking around the corner to locate the guard at the top of the tower, he raises his own crossbow, and fires.
“Sorry for that I was just trying to become a more valuable member of the team!” Klyen calls out to Kreja as his bolt whistles towards his target.

Klyen attack roll
D6 +5(Reigntree wood crossbow) +2(Redoak bolts) =D13
6

Tyia defense roll
D6 +3(Body armor) +1(Trained) +1(Reigntree wood crossbow) =D11
3
Crossbow strength test, breaks on 1:
2

Kylen’s bolt pierces through Tyia’s chainmail easily, as it was made to do. Spiking between her ribs, it punctures her right lung before stopping, its impetus expired.
Wheezing, she slides to the floor, blood pooling in her lungs.

Saima{6} had planned to jump around to avoid projectiles, but since all the crossbow guards are dead, that seems like a silly thing to do. Since his original target had fallen, he turns to face the remaining guard, bow bent back and arrow knocked. As he releases the arrow, however, he finds that his aim was a bit off, the arrow soaring towards the guard’s knee, at an angle that would almost have missed entirely.

Saima attack roll
D6 +2(Sprywood bow) +1(Redoak arrow) =D9
1

Anvir defense roll
D6 +3(Armor) +2(Omnite shortsword) + 1(Trained)=D12
12

Anvir hops right over the arrow, a feat of reflexes that is quite impressive. As he lands he stares at Saima for a moment, seeming shocked.
Kreja{9} pulls out her shortswords, prepared to defend herself as she moves towards cover, settling behind the opposite corner of the same building Klyen chose. Sheathing her swords, as she cannot defend and do this at once, she raises her arms towards the tower, sending out her Terralius magic. Knowing that she can only manipulate a small amount of the tower, she knows that she will have to choose carefully. Her magic spider-webs across the ground and in the tower, allowing her to sense it's structure.
The tower has four floors: the ground floor, two floors above it, and then the roof. A stone pillar runs up through the middle of the tower supporting the roof, and the floors in the tower are wooden.
Figuring that she has found her point, Kreja focuses on the bottom of the stone pillar, commanding it to turn to a state less solid.
It complies, a chest-sized piece of the pillar turning to mud. The pillar, having no base up about three feet, falls down the appropriate distance, cracking as it strikes the floor.
With a rumble, the unsupported roof caves in, heavy stone crashing down into the tower. Judging by the sound of splintering wood, the third floor is destroyed, though the second floor seems like it held against the weight.
A pained cry comes from the tower, then ends just as quickly.
The tower door bursts open with such force that it slams into the tower wall and breaks off one hinge, revealing the Red-Guard in all his splendor. With a large but slim, curving two-handed blade gripped in front of him, its cross-guard ornately curving upwards with the blade, he slowly advances. His sword has blood dripping tellingly from it.
“Damn towers can’t be built right! Come then, Ordal. As the one who caused this little uprising, you shall be the first to either surrender or die. Your choice.” The Red-Guard slowly advances.
Two more guards exit the tower behind him, both wielding longswords and shields. Presumably, thanks to Kreja, the tower is empty.

Natania{10}, finding herself within a few feet of Anvir, who slowly approaches, pulls a dagger with blurring speed, sending it spinning at him.

Natania attack roll
D6 +1(Thrown Omnite thick-bladed dagger)+ 2(Quick action(from rolling 10) = D9
2

Anvir defense roll
D6 +3(Armor) +2(Omnite shortsword) + 1(Trained)=D12
2

Re-roll:

Natania:
7

Anvir:
10

Anvir’s shortsword smacks the spinning dagger out of the air, and with a laugh that allows Natania to draw a shortsword and ready her shield, he takes a few quick steps forwards, clearing the distance between them.

Anvir attack roll
D6 +1(Omnite shortsword) +1(Trained) +1(Plan) =D9
1

Natania defense roll
D6 +2(Omnite shortsword) +2(Omnite circular shield) =D10
2

Anvir feints right, then spins left, right blade stabbing over his shoulder as his left comes in with a sidelong swipe. A clever move that undoubtedly would have spelled the end of Natania, except she has a shield.
A quick reposition and shield-push has Anvir’s attack foiled, and him stumbling back.

Talvik waves his arm towards one of the new guards, brow furrowed in concentration.

Metalcast
D6 +2(Metalshaper) =D8
Difficulty threshold: Medium. Fail threshold 4 and under.
5

Ulrick’s sword liquefies, dropping to the floor with a splat and forming a puddle.

“Metalcaster!Metalcaster!” He roars, stabbing his finger at Talvik.

“Very astute of you.” Talvik replies scathingly.

Ulrick rushes to Anvir’s side, though not out of concern for his fellow guard. Snatching up Natania’s thrown dagger, he brings his shield up in a covering position.
Tareis, seeing that if he charged he would be open to attack from behind because of the way the opposing group is spread, follows suit and raises his shield.

Ragaren has no such inhibtions, striding towards Ordal. As he gets within a handful of feet he launches into a powerful spin, moving forwards as he does so in a sidelong swing.

Ragaren,The Falcon attack roll
D6 +4(Well-Forged Omnite talank) +1(Weapon reach advantage) +2(Strong) +3(Trained meticulously) +3(Expert Wielder) =D19
8

Ordal defense roll
D6 +2(Body armor) +2(Omnite circular shield) +1(Omnite longsword) +1(Robust) +2(Adept blade-wielder)+1(Strong) =D15
15

Ordal nimbly ducks under the powerful swing, the air cracking as it passes just over his head. Rising up in a shield rush, Ordal slams into Ragaren, who falls back a few steps, Ordal doing the same, moving back to rejoin his companions.

“Well… it appears as if I haven't given you enough credit. Shall we see if you can dodge two?”

Enemies:

Character Information:

I’ve forgotten if I’ve already mentioned this or not, but you can attack more than one enemy in a turn… you just get a -1 to the attack roll for each extra opponent that you targeted, distributed like this:
Tim attacks 3 people in a turn. He gets no penalty during his attack roll for the 1st, -1 for the 2nd, and -2 for the third.
This is added to the main post.

Roll #39

Grimly raising her right hand,Kreja{6} calls upon the magic of Terralius, willing the earth under Ragaren to heave, buckle, and encase his feet.

Regrettably, the earth doesn’t seem very responsive… it heaves and buckles, to be sure, rising up and down in mesmerizing waves of varying shades of brown, pebbles mixed alongside, but the closest it comes to entrapping his feet is when a sidelong crest smacks the edges of his boots.

Ragaren is thrown off balance though, shifting his weight and throwing his hips back and forth as he tries to maintain his balance.

Seeing his opportunity, Ordal springs forwards, letting cry a feral battle-roar.
The bucking earth seems to not be as heaving as roughly as it appears, as Ragaren manages to sweep his blade across to block while maintaining his balance.

Ordal attack
D6 + 2(Omnite Longsword) + 2(Strong)+ 3(Adept Blade Wielder) = D13
5

Ragaren, The Falcon(Red-Guard Commander) defense
D6 +3(body armor) +3(Well-Forged Omnite talank)(No weapon reach bonus, opponent has a shield) +1(Tolerant) +1(Strong) +3(Trained meticulously) +3(Expert Wielder) =D20
-1(Heaving earth) =D19
11

Ordal has to drop straight to the ground to avoid Ragaren’s swing, rolling away to avoid being crushed as Ragaren leaps off the section of earth that is moving to land right where Ordal had dropped.

Raising her shortswords, Kreja drops into a crouch, prepared to defend as she lets the magic go, leaving a mound of dirt about a foot high where Ragaren had been standing.

Dashing over to Rhyanon’s side, Natania{5} calls upon her healing power, lightly touching Rhyanon’s arm where the blade had cut, drawing a hiss of pain.

The two of them expect a flash of light, aglowign hand... something. Nothing happens.

Straining harder, it takes Natania a moment to realize that her power didn’t even respond to her call. She can feel it; dormant, slumbering, seemingly ready to be used, but try as she might, Natania cannot draw it forth.

Rhyanon needs no explanation, reading Natania’s facial expressions easily. “No worries,” She says, trying to keep the pain out of her voice. “I only need one arm to fight.”

“No! I can do it.”

“Try later! Now we must flight!”

Natania is too concerned that her power didn’t respond to even be confused by Rhyanon’s continuing malpropisms.

Anticipating that his opponents will be expecting another devastating high shot from his bow, Jayk{10} resolves to aim low to bypass any defense his opponents may have planned. Sighting down his bow at Ragaren, Jayk once more puts all out of his mind but his target: Ragaren’s right femural artery, covered by chainmail and a piece of Ragarens tabard. Jayk steadies his aim, preparing himself for the shot for what seems like ages to him, but is in reality only a second or two.

He releases the arrow, sending it spinning through the air towards the opposing champion.

Jayk attack roll
D6 + 2(Sprywood Bow) + 1(Redoak arrows) + 2(Archery Concentration: Roll of 10 = bonus of 2 ½ ) = D10
4 + ½ = 4 ½

Ragaren, The Falcon(Red-Guard Commander) defense
D6 +3(body armor) +3(Well-Forged Omnite talank) +1(Tolerant) +1(Strong) +3(Trained meticulously) +3(Expert Wielder) =D20
8
Somehow, Ragaren must have spotted you from the corner of his eye. Somehow, he must have deduced you plan. Somehow, he managed to disengage from where he was fencing with Ordal and swing his sword around to perfectly deflect Jayk’s arrow.

“How can we defeat someone who can block an arrow?” Talvik groans despairingly as Ragaren goes back to putting Ordal soundly on the defensive with his powerful, sweeping swings.

“Hey!” A call cuts through the sounds of battle as Rhyanon{4 – 2 = 2} cocks back her uninjured arm. “I think that’s yours!”

Hurling the dagger, it spins through the air, light from the cavern’s glowstones making it flash as it whistles towards Anvir.

Who catches it.

Stunned, Rhyanon does nothing but stand there for a moment, Natania mimicking her movements exactly, both staring in disbelief as Anvir admires his dagger.

“Why, thank you. You are quite correct, it is mine.”

Saima{5} runs the handful of feet towards Ulrick, leaping at him and grabbing his arms, trying to disarm him. After a few seconds of flurried activity that make it hard for any watching to see what’s happening, Saima is flung away, landing on his back a few feet away on the hard earth floor, light from the glowstones flickering off the small pin on his jumpsuit.

Vitr{7} draws his two daggers and deftly reverses his grip on them, so the blades run parallel to his forearms. He advances towards Anvir, arms raised up, slightly bent in a combat position he remembers from his training. Anvir acknowledges Vitr’s advance by likewise moving forwards, obviously believing that he is more than up to the fight. When he comes within a few feet, Vitr strikes.

Vitr attack
D6 + 1(Skills from past –Dagger Martial Art) + 1(Omnite thick-bladed dagger(2x)) +1(Plan) =D9
6

Anvir defense
D6 +2(Omnite shortsword) + 1(Trained) +1(Omnite thick-bladed dagger) +1(Omnite shortsword weapon reach bonus)=D11
3

A front snap-kick slams into Anvir’s chest faster than he can move to block, sending him reeling. Vitr instantly steps forwards, slashing across Anvir’s exposed throat with his left dagger, immediately reversing the swing to stab Anvir in the exact center of the slashing blow, severing his windpipe, the dagger tip poking through the other side of his neck.

Anvir topples back, landing in a heap at Vitr’s feet, blood gushing out of his ruined neck. Too much blood. In moments, without air and rapidly losing blood, Anvir is dead.

Vitr slowly raises his gaze from the dead form at his feet to the two other guards watching him from behind their shields.

Vitr smirks.

Talvik takes a few steps back, getting distance between himself and the fighting. Closign his eyes, he reache sinto his pockets, pulling out a mound of guano that bursts into flame while he chants eldritch words under his breath.

Kneeling behind the corner of the building, Klyen{10} checks to make sure that Ragaren hasn’t noticed him yet. Reassured that the Red Guard is fully occupied with almost slaughtering Ordal, Klyen rapidly works the crank on his crossbow, all the while scanning the area for anything that could help him and his companions in the fight.

His search was a good idea, as he spots a group of escaped prisoners peering around the corner of a house a short way down the street, studying the fight. They obviously are debating to see if there was any chance of beating this seemingly indomitable figure, Ragaren, as one of the figures gestures animatedly.

Perhaps with some smooth talking, they could assist you?

“Prisoners are looking at us! They might be thinking to fight, with a little encouragement!” Klyen calls out to his companions.

The thought is pushed from Klyen’s immediate thoughts, as the crank gets harder and harder to crank, until Klyen cannot push it much further. He would have left it there, but as he sees Ragaren steadily pushing Ordal - the best fighter of your group - back easily, Klyen figures that more would be needed than the usual strength of his crossbow. Grunting from the intense work, Klyen works the crank a few turns more, his arms straining from the exertion. After ages, it seems, Klyen flicks the tab that locks the string in place, and places a quarrel in the slot.

“Anvir was a good friend of mine! Die, cur!” Ulrick growls at Vitr, lowering his shield and charging him, dagger arm pulled back for a stab.

Ulrick attack roll
D6 + 1(Trained) = D7
5 + ½ = 5 ½

Vitr defense roll
D6 +1(Skills from past – Dagger Martial Art) +2(Omnite thick-bladed dagger(2x)) = D9
9

Vitr easily bats the thrust out of the way, returning with a thrust of his own high and up to the left, drawing the shield out as he stabs at Ulrick’s exposed shield arm with his other dagger in a clever double-strike. The dagger thrusts through the chainmail easily, piercing the center of Ulrick’s arm just above the elbow.
With a cry, he falls back, shield dropping from fingers that can no longer clutch the strap without pain, as blood leaks out from the wound.

“Damn you!” He growls, scrambling back, holding his injured arm close to his body.

Tareis wisely crouches a bit lower, continuing his defensive pose after seeing Ulrick so soundly beaten.

Enemies:

Character Information:

Roll #40

Glancing to the side at the escapee’s Klyen had identified, Jayk{8} whips an arrow from his quiver, idly wishing that he had taken more arrows considering the rate he’s using them, as he knocks it and pulls it back in one smooth motion.

Once more, the rest of the world is blocked out other than his target. Once more, the arrow flies.

Jayk attack
D6 + 2(Sprywood Bow) + 1(Redoak arrows) + 1(Archery Concentration: Roll of 8 = bonus of 1 ½ ) = D10
2 + ½ = 2 ½

Ragaren, The Falcon(Red-Guard Commander) defense
D6 +3(body armor) +3(Well-Forged Omnite talank) +1(Tolerant) +1(Strong) +3(Trained meticulously) +3(Expert Wielder) =D20
4

Without a doubt, this mighty foe is the commander of the Warden’s elite guards. Ragaren twists his arms, blocking Ordal’s blade with the extended pommel of his talank, spinning as he does so, Jayk’s arrow hissing through the air as it narrowly misses him. Continuing the maneovre, Ragaren rapidly disengages from Ordal with a subtle shift of his legs, twisting his blade back over and thrusting his arms to the left powerfully, sending his talank through the air. Skilled Ordal was not caught off guard, already moving to block.

Ragaren, The Falcon(Red-Guard Commander) attack
D6 +4(Well-Forged Omnite talank) +2(Strong) +3(Trained meticulously) +3(Expert Wielder) =D18
-Weapon reach bonus; opponent has a shield
11

Ordal defense
D6 +2(Body armor)+2(Omnite circular shield)+1(Strong)+1(Robust)+2(Adept Blade Wielder) = D14
6

Skilled Ordal, while undeniably adroit, is quite simply no match against the bared might of the Warden’s finest. While Ordal manages to get the top edge of his shield in the way, Ragaren rolls his curved blade over the shield, still maintaining enough force to strike his blade home, slashing right through Ordal’s armor.

Everyone else, while not actively fighting the other guards nevertheless had their attention fixated on their opponents, resulting in everyone’s gaze being drawn as Ordal falls back, blade falling from limp fingers.
Tareis bangs his longsword against his shield, muffled laughter sounding from his helmet. Ulrick bares his teeth in a painful smile, holding his injured arm close.

Everyone else simply stares, watching their best hope of fighting Ragaren settle on the ground, blood falling from his wound, trickling down his chest and sides.

With a few short, measured swings, Ragaren severs the straps holding Ordal’s corselet to his body, revealing his wound in full as Ragaren kicks the ruined armor off him. The curving slash is garish, extending from the bottom of Ordal's shoulder to his solar plexus, curving upwards so that it crosses his collarbone, which appears jaggedly broken. The wound is deep, and will prove mortal without action.

“He still lives.”Ragaren intones in a deadpan. He straddles Ordal in such a way that he faces all of you fanning out around him in a ragged semicircle, Vitr on his right edge, closest to the two remaining guards, and Klyen somewhat on his left edge around the buildings corner.

The Falcon lifts his talank with both hands on the hilt, blade pointing down, tip just barely touching Ordal’s throat.

“Drop your weapons.”

Klyen whips his head to the side, staring down the street for the group of miners.
They are gone.

“Drop them to the dirt. Your escapade is at an end.”

You all surreptitiously glance around at each other. Talvik is slowly moving each of his fingers, obviously ready to metalcast, though that is no surprise. Talvik would not give a bag of dirt for Ordal’s life, knowing that Ordal had essentially thrown out a couple years of Talvik’s life by purposely getting them imprisoned.

Reyna stands a few feet behind you all, showing not the slightest care for the current events… no change there. The spirit likely is lost in pleasant thoughts of when she can return to her own plane.

Glancing around at each other, everyone looks for some sign in the other’s faces. To fight, risking Ordal’s death if Ragaren is not immediately incapacitated, or to become prisoners once more? Obviously Ragaren intends to lead you all to the Warden… past that, none of you have any idea of what will ensue.

“To the dirt! Now!”Ragaren roars, his powerful voice reverberating throughout the street.

Perhaps there is a third option? Kreja thinks to herself, silently berating herself a moment later. Of course there is a third option... and a fourth, fifth, and so on... there are always an infinite number of ways to play out any situation... how might we play this one to come out on top?


Rest of actions voided on account of fight events.

Enemies:

Character Information:

"To the dirt! Now!" Ragaren roars, shifting his sword as he prepares to strike it home.

An object, moving too fast for any of you to identify, whirls over Jayk's shoulder, striking the blade of Ragaren's talank with such force that it is shunted aside, Ragaren's delayed reaction driving the point into the dirt.

As one, everyone whips around to see a man none of you know charging down the street, a familiar blade clenched tight in his fists. He wears no helmet, and is swathed in brown winter furs.

But the blade... it is unmistakeable.

Frozen Fury.

Which means that this is the escaped Mine-Ward, from all those hours ago that feel like a lost lifetime.

For reasons unknown to any of you, he has just saved Ordal's life, and probably everyone else's at the same time. He clears the distance frighteningly fast, leaving only enough time for Ragaren to wrench his blade out of the earth and bring it to bear.

The two huge men clash as giants would, their mammoth blades siring bursts of sparks when they connect, the two figures anticipating the other's move, moving to block and counter even as the other begins it.

Entranced by the vision for a few moments, it takes second or two for the rest of you to realize that this is your chance.

Natania moves first, breaking for Ordal's laboring form. The remaining soldiers move to stop her, but Talvik waves his hands, melting their weapons into puddles. Kreja's earth spikes make short work of them immediately after, puncturing the soft loam of the cavern floor to impale each soldier through the chest, raising them off their feet as the spikes continued to grow until they were at least seven feet off the ground, slanted enough to puncture the stone wall of the tower.

The spikes run red, a sharp contrast to their crisp grey color, veined with white.

A quick motion sets Natania's hands glowing, as she sets to work on Ordal. Serh and Ragaren dance their way across the street, fighting at the mouth of an alleyway as the rest of the companions move to help.
"Quick!" Vitr cries, sword readied as he charges down the street.

Saima's kick catches him in the stomach, doubling him over, giving Saima a golden opportunity to strike the back of his head. He does, showing mercy at the last moment by hitting Vitr with his shortsword's pommel, sending Vitr spiraling into the realm of unconsciousness.

"Saima! What the hell?" Kreja growls, as she, Jayk, Rhyanon, Klyen and Talvik stumble to a stop right infront of Saima, who twists his sword to put the point under Jayk's chin.

"Move and Jayk dies! Drop your weapons!"

"What in the gods name are you doing?" Rhyanon asks, stunned.

"We don't have time for this!" Talvik mumbles, seeming not to grasp the gravity of the situation. He begins a motion with his hands, but Saima, quicker than anyone could imagine, whips up his free hand, a glyph, burning a white-red the color of melted metal shooting forth and scorching right into Talvik's chest, burning through his robe and into his skin a good half-inch deep.

With his mouth forming a surprised 'O' that immediately turns into a grimace of agonizing pain, Talvik falls back to the ground, landing heavily on his back.

Before anyone else can react, a cry of pain has everyone looking at Serh and Ragaren.

Serh's blade has pierced Ragaren's chest. His expression starts to change from a mask of anger to a calm visage, but then Ragaren, with he strength of a dying man, plunges his blade through Serh at an angle twin to the one that pierces his own body.

The two crumble atop eachother, and Jayk uses the moment to smack Saima's blade aside, bringing his own up simultaneously to carve a hole through Saima's chest at an upward angle that has the sword entering in his stomach but exiting between his shoulderblades.

Saima crumples, offering a sigh as blood washes the dirt, the blade, and the hand that struck him down.

"Well that was a mite anticlimactic." Kreja remarks dryly.

"Why?" Jayk whispers, as the rest spring into action. Natania rushes over to see if she can heal Serh - and if not, atleast get an explanation - while Klyen and Rhyanon, by unspoken consent, each move off to scout the immediate area in opposite directions. Kreja kneels by Talvik's side, bluntly asking as to his health.

Coughing up blood, Saima answers: "Because... I work for the Mine-Warden, and for my country of Crasain."

Jayk moves back, disappointed. He had thought there would be some deeper motive than a simple: "I work for the enemy." Well, that's interrupted stories for you.

Silent as shadow -as well it should be- Kreja's shadow beast emerges from the earth beneath Saima's form, engulfing him. With a shocked cry, Jayk stabs down with his sword, feeling it bury deep into the earth below.
Saima's body was gone- he knew that even before the shadow dissolved a moment later, leaving nothing behind but his sword, buried in the loam halfway up to it's hilt.

"I'm fine -I'll have a hell of a scar, thanks to that bastard traitor, but it'll number one among many." Talvik groans as he stands up, accepting Kreja's offered hand. "Hurts like you wouldn't believe, though."

Natania moves towards the three of you, supporting Serh under his arm.

"What are you doing, Mine-Ward?" Talvik asks gruffly, though when considering his usual tone, it doesn't seem quite so rough.

"My people, the Cora, value battle among all else. Our mythos is defined by success in honorable combat. When I ran from your friend," He gives a small chuckle, "I don't even know his name; but when I ran from your friend, I violated our beliefs. As penance, I must serve to guard him until he considers my cowardice repaid."

"I have heard of the Cora; very well." Talvik says. The rest of you merely shake your heads, never having heard of the Cora before in your lifetimes. "And thank you, I suppose."

Rhyanon returns soon after to find Ordal sitting up and talking to the rest of her companions, though he sounds and looks strained. Vitr is conscious once more, rubbing his head and grimacing. A minute later Klyen returns, and Ordal addresses you all:

"There is no way I am able to go along with you all to find the Warden. If we leave now, I promise to tell you my tale once we are safe at my hideout. Otherwise, you might as well leave me here, as a novice swordsman could slay me right now."

"I am in the same condition." Serh mumbles. While Natania's healing may solve the wound, she must draw on the body that she is healing, draining it of energy.

"Saima was a traitor; the Warden likely knows we are coming." Kreja says, musing. "Going there would be suicide."

"I guess we don't really have a choice then." Vitr says, the rest of you nodding in agreement.

"Ordal, take us out of here." Klyen proclaims, enunciating the words that sounded like closing the final page of a book.


What happens to your characters? What does Ordal have to tell you? What, truly, would have happened had this game continued? And what the ^%&$ happened to Saima?

Well, I guess we'll have to wait until [insert game title here]!

-

Not bad, for a quick ending, I suppose. It's hard to try and make an interesting end to a game while nothing has really matured into it's element yet, but I really want to start this new game -I'm quite pumped for it. Sorry for any let downs, but I do feel like writing this game had improved my literature skills, and I hope to be able to satisfy your expectations with my next game that actually will have some semblance of plot other than a black or white "shall we do this or this?"