Fallen Lords (IC)

[Sir Shadow]

Time was impossible to measure here, in the dark. Had it been days? Months? Years? Your captor had not seen fit to provide you with a calendar. The thought had occured to you to perhaps scratch lines in the wall to record your time, but you found the adamantine that comprised your prisons to be completely unyielding. Yet, as you felt around your chamber, you found that someone, or something, that had previously been held there had created deep furroughs in the metal.

Magic was beyond grasp as well. Whether simple despair or something intrinsic to the location, it seemed to drain out of you. It was impossible to focus as though some haze clouded your mind beyond the most simple of thoughts. But even if you were capable of planning an escape, where would you go? How deep below ground were you? The guards that brought you meals refused to speak, and you only knew someone was there when the small intake opened for scraps of food to slide in.

There were noises, though. Sometimes you heard screaming from somewhere above, or you'd hear the echos of someone moving in a cell nearby. More concerning were the sounds that came from below. From time to time you could feel a slight tremor in the earth as something below you shifted, and at times deep gutteral growls and distant howling could be heard through the stone floor.

So you waited... waited for a chance to speak with your captor... waited for an opportunity to escape... waited for death to take you...

What had seemed like an average day to one such as yourself quickly turned around in a most unpleasant fashion. Your pilgrimate had led you to the city of Kata'rhak to meditate by the oases at its center. Your first day in the city and ritual by the spring had been relatively uneventful and the results had been the same as the numerous time you had performed this action before.

However, while you were enjoying a drink at a tavern near the oasis, you noticed a young lady being given unwanted attention by a well-dressed young man. As her protests became louder, and his advances more aggressive, you decided to step in. After politely informing the man that she was not interested in him, you saw his hand go for his sword... so you kindly relieved him of it--his hand, that is.

Needless to say, he was not pleased with the situation, and to make matters worse, he was the son of a pominent noble. Though you attempted to make a hasty retreat, you soon found yourself on the wrong side of the law, and while you may have been able to slay a number of them, you realized that killing half the guards in the city was not on your agenda. You decided to turn yourself in, after all, how bad could the sentance be for unhanding a young man?

You aren't sure how long you've been in this cell, but the thought that the punishment far outweighs the crime had passed through your mind several times. You were stripped of your possessions and dressed in a ragged shirt and pants. Your hands are bound together with a short set of manacles, and they have already rubbed your wrists raw.
Rumors of the existance of a blue dragon whelp had lured you to the deserts near Kata'rhak. Though they had not existed for hundreds of years, Grand had taught you of how destructive their kind could be to the ecosystem of any are they lived in. As a druid of the wastes, it was your duty to investigate regardless of how improbably it seemed.

Several locales confirmed that they had seen the flash of moving bright blue scales amid a caravan's cargo, but they were unable to confirm actually seeing the creature that they belonged to. It seemed unlikely that they belonged to a dragon, after all, many exotic creatures had blue coloration, but just to be thorough, you followed the trail to Kata'rhak.

It had not been your first time to the city by any means, but instead of the usual side-long glances you typically recieved, you found yourself quickly apprehended by the guard and imprisoned. At first you were being held in a simple jail but your demands to be told why you were being held went unanswered. However, the truth of the situation was soon revealed as Sar'Thalis himself came to collect you.

He dragged you out in front of the population to address them and declared that you were the first of many spies and assassins sent by his enemy, Mezzopites, in advance of full war! Stunned by the sheer audacity of the claims, you were unable to protest before he swiftly brought his flaming blade down to sever both of your wings! Sar'thalis declared that all enemies of Kata'rhak would share in your fate and that his men now prepared to march to take Adebasha.

Stripped of your possessions and dressed in ragged pants, you were then tossed into this dark cell to rot. Every time you moved, you felt the cauterized stumps on your back burn with searing pain. Normally, a wound such as this would mean nothing to your druidic powers of healing-- after all, you'd even lost an arm once fighting a purple worm--but you found yourself unable to connect to nature here.
Time seemed meaningless to you. As meaningless as the monsters you slew every day. The Order of Slayers put you to work well, sending you down into the depths of the Underdark to remove threats before they became one. Your comrades changed constantly and soon their faces and names blurred into a pointless mess.

But a ray of light came to you. Two names: Sar'thalis and Adressa. In passing you heard of Sar'Thalis and his sister attending a banquent in a neighboring city, which seemed strange. Adressa and you had not been on good terms with Sar'Thalis since the end of the Fallen Wars; so much so that you hadn't even considered seeking him for information when she disappeared.

Yet, the claim had to be true, so you gathered what few belongings you held onto and made your way to Kata'Rhak. You weren't sure wether you wished to confront her or question her, but seeing her would perhaps set your mind at ease and give you some closure. You arrived in the city, and as a fellow celestial, Sar'thalis had no choice but to receive you. However, as you confronted him in his throne room, demanding to see his sister, you were suddenly blinded by a searing light.

When you regained your senses all that found you was darkness. You tried to move but your found your limbs had been restrained and your glorious wings had been cut off. Trapped in the darkness, your mind wandered, sometimes with fevered delusion as the blackness and strange noises surrounded you... The only light in your small chamber was that which emanated from you, what had once been a beacon of light to the mortals you aided seemed nothing more than a reminder of the despair that threatened to consume you.
When you were invited to visit the jewel of the Southern Meccian desert, you had thought it was simply Sar'thalis being polite. The banquet you were at was dreadfully boring, and he had provided more interesting conversation than the other nobles you had been seated beside. Your father had insisted you attend this party, and you suspected that he was trying to get you to meet someone you could wed, yet you found the pickings slim at this affair.

Sar'thalis understood how Castiel could be, how your father always got his way. The solar was a warrior like you and also found the rest of the party-goings less than appealing. You had favored him with a dance, only to be polite, but afterwards he had implored you to come visit him in his city and promised to have a much more entertaining event.

Two months later when a letter arrived requesting your presence at a grand tournament and feast, you were a little surprised. Still, it would be rude to decline, and you wouldn't want to make your father look bad. With a small retinue in tow, you made the journey across the desert to Kata'rhak.

However, when you were but two days out from city, your caravan was ambushed by brigands. Though you fought with all your skill, your people were cut down before you! Your last memories were of a dull pain at the back of your head followed by your vision dimming. You woke up in this cell, still surrounded by darkness. Your instincts tell you that much not time has passed, but you have not been able to ascertain anything else about your situation...

[Lioslaith]

Samael awoke from another bout of sleep/haze that had kept him occupied of late. He started to get up but the chains clinked tight again, reminding him of where he was. The moment of clarity that provided reminded to pull again.

And so he pulled, pulled with everything that was in him to do so. His muscles strained, the stumps that were his wings ached, the blood roared in protest in his ears and still he pulled. Almost always until he passed out from the strain.

When next he awoke the cycle started over. At times it varied, he would awake with Adessa, or alone, lost again until the chains reminded him. And so he pulled.

[AvatarVecna]

Fargor was unsure of how long he had been in here, but he was nothing if not a patient man. He settled into a meditative stance, waiting out his punishment as hest he could. To keep track of the time, he counted his heartbeats, felt the hunger and tired ache in his limbs, performed exercises to keep his body and mind focused.

[Ramsus]

Cassandra ate her bland food without thinking much of it. In truth it was her rage that sustained her more than this meager sustenance. She knew whoever could have taken her and her escort down and place her in such a location would be powerful indeed. But in the end they would prove to have foolishly overestimated their power regardless. She would sooner or later be out of this place and when she was she would slay everyone who had anything to do with this and destroy anything they had built. The slaughter would extend even to their associates and families and the fires would spread wide. Their ruin would be so complete that all would know that even to contemplate doing such a thing as this to her was a harbinger of doom.

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn laid in the corner of the cell, depressed and barely moving. He has resigned himself to his fate of death, and didn't tend to stir for much as the pain from where his wings once sprouted was too much to bear. So he just sat in the dark, his mind not thinking of anything, until sleep would eventually take him for an hour or two.

[Sir Shadow]

Shortly after a meal is delivered and you hear the echoing footsteps recede into nothing, an unusual sound breaks the fresh silence. At first, it is nothing but a faint scratching yet it is quickly followed but the metallic thud of tumblers clicking into place. There is a slow creaking sound as the door to Samael's cell opens, and he can make out the profile of a lithe woman silhouetted against the torchlight in the hallway. She steps forward and kneels down to look him over, and in the faint light emanating from his body, he can make out two green eyes peering into his.

"Well," she mutters, "Unless there's more than on angel trapped here, I take it you're Samael?"

Without waiting for a response, she sets to releasing your bonds. It takes several long minutes, but one after the other, each chain clatters to the ground around you until their weight is no longer holding you down. Before you can react, she grabs your hand and places a potion in it, "You look like hell, take this."

Spinning on her heel, she steps out back into the hallway and speaks in a low tone, "Alright, who else we got down here? Speak now or forever hold your peace, I can't waste time opening all these doors."

[Lioslaith]

Through the haze and fog Samael nods at the question of who he is. Standing slowly he sniffs the potion then drinks it in one gulp.

A rescuer? Here? Who? Too many questions at once, he follows her into the hallway.

[Ramsus]

Well, this was an unexpected turn of events. Cassandra pinched herself just to ensure this wasn't a dream, it was just too fortunate a turn of events. She'd expected the first step of her escape to be under much less favorable circumstances. And did the woman say Samael? She was stunned that someone of his strength could have wound up in such circumstances. That boded ill in the long term for the strength of foe or foes they would have to deal with, but in the immediate sense it was good news as even if she couldn't trust whoever their rescuer was she knew she'd have one true ally.

She pushed herself up to her feet and walked over to the door and called out, "The Lady Cassandra Castiel would bid you open this door as well if you please."

[AvatarVecna]

"If you are taking requests, I would appreciate being released as well, ma'am," a soft voice replied from down the hall.

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn heard the voice, but he could not believe it. He had fantasized about being rescued more times than he could count, but he had given up on that fevered dream.

But here is was, and he heard the voices of the others calling out for freedom as well. That had never happened before. He slowly crawled to the door of his cell and pulled himself up to look out from it. One cell was already open and what he thought was a lady was standing there looking out to the other cells. A meek, defeated, cracked voice echoes out in the jail, "Yes, please. Freedom," is all it can muster. Lorn then slumps back down to the ground right next to the door, his winged stumps aching and screaming in pain.

[Sir Shadow]

As soon as the soothing liquid passes over his lips, Samael feels the haze in his mind suddenly lifted and his confidence is renewed. The suffering he faced for what seemed like an eternity suddenly becomes insignificant in the face of vast eons of his life. Even the fact his wings are missing seems to be less troubling, after all, an opportunity to escape was right before him!

"Ah, I'm entertaining a lady? Well let me get the fine china and cutlery!"

The woman makes short work of the other doors, quickly having found her stride after the first one and Cassandra, Fargoth, and Lorn are released from their confines in short order. With the release of the last however, she quickly makes a grimace and stares for a moment. At first one might assume that it was because the inhabitant of the cell was a Tiefling, but her eyes are clearly transfixed on the oozing scabs where his wings once were.

"Eesh, that looks infected, love," she pulls another vial from her pouch and uncorks it, "You're not gonna be any help getting out of here if you're dead."

As she hands him the potion, another meek voice rises from the next cell, "Ah, I would also like to leave." A few whirs and clicks later, and you find a young human with black hair, moustache and goatee standing in your midst. "Thank you, I am Aliam."

[Lioslaith]

Samael's white pupil less eyes watched his rescuer free the others, grateful that the potion had cleared his head. Something tickled at his memory, Castiel, he knew that name. Another angel, here? No. Cassandra, that was it. Out loud he said her name, "Cassandra.. Cassie? A student and Castiels daughter. You are here too? Why?"

Freedom, freedom was at hand and there would be time for questions after. "Lead on, I would taste freedom again."

[Ramsus]

"Ah, I'm entertaining a lady? Well let me get the fine china and cutlery!"

"Don't be silly, there's no time for that right now." Cassandra replies sounding a bit amused, even though her voice is a bit hoarse and some tea would be quite welcome.

Once out of the cell and face to face with her old trainer she reaches out a hand to clasp her hand about his upper arm in what she hopes will be a mutual greeting. "It's good to see you again Sir, though you could have chosen a nicer venue." she gives him a sort of pained grin. "I was ambushed on the way to Kata'rhak at Lord Sar'thalis' invitation. You haven't graced our courts in some time, is this why?" she asks with a measure of concern.

She then looks to the others, nods to the man who just introduced himself, and asks, "Who might all of you be?"

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn manages to slide up the wall and grasp the potion, drinking it down without question. At this point he didn't care if it was there to heal him, or to kill him, but either were welcome now.

After the potion takes affect, he limps out of the cell and looks over the others. This was not exactly the safest group for him to be a part of. There was an angel (whose type tended not to like Tieflings), an aasimar who seemed to know the angel (whose type also tended to not like Tieflings), and some elf, but who knows where his loyalties lay.

Lorn knew that to get out of here he had to trust them, but as soon as he was able to, he would be disappearing. When asked his name, he meekly replied with a simple, "Lorn." His cat-like eyes scanned them all, and now being in such close proximity of Lorn, the others noticed a slight hint of brimstone fill their nostrils.

[Lioslaith]

When the smell reached Samael he snorted in disgust and turned to face the tiefling, subconsciously stepping between him and the ladies. He says "Ware, there is a devil amongst us..." upon seeing Lorn and the state he is in he realizes Lorn was being held prisoner as well.

His visage softens as he relaxes, in infernal he says "Mh ieadaquyw, Lorn siw uz? Mh bfvqypylz uw tdafvyv myry, xe zmafqmz haf xe qfirv kfz xe wyy haf mijy oiryv la kyzzyr zmil xe."

"My apologies, Lorn was it? My judgement is clouded here, I thought you a guard but I see you have fared no better than I."

Samael turns slightly to show his back where his wings once hung.

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn was in no shape for a fight, thought the potion he was given definitely helped him out in that regard. If push came to shove he would have to kill the angel, and prepared for a fight, tensing his muscles ....but then the angel seemed to soften. He spoke in infernal to Lorn, apologizing for his actions and showing his own wings had been severed. Lorn nodded and seemed to relax a bit. Lorn responds back in infernal, "Jixz la brxelin is xo."
"Make no mention of it."

I don't usually do actual different words for my languages, but why not since it was so short :smallwink:

[Lioslaith]

Remembering the question Cassie asked he turned to her, yes he remembered her now, good student. He nodded his answer, "Yes, I have been here.." he tried to recall how long but time was never much of a concern for him and with the torment mixed in he had nothing, "...a very long time."

[Sir Shadow]

As you all file out into the hallway from your cells, you feel some of the oppressive force fall from your shoulders. Each of you are dressed in rags and seem a bit worse for the wear, but you are no strangers adversity and the promise of freedom gives agency to your steps. The woman that freed you is dark-haired and lithe. She is dressed in black leathers with several pouches around her waist and a circlet with five different colors stones on her forehead.

With a discerning eye, she sizes each of you up in turn before smirking, "Alright, well, this here is a prison break. But we can't go up, so we have to go down into the lower dungeon and out through a secret passage. I'm here for him, but with all the rumors you hear about this place, I figured I'd give you a chance to get out too and earn your freedom."

As she continues speaking, she ushers you to follow her away from your cells further down the hallway. As the lighted sconces are left behind you, she waves her hand in front of her head and several multicolored orbs of light appear to float around her to illuminate your way. "My name is Imogen, and don't go thanking me yet. From what I've heard, there are some right nasty horrors between us and open air. If you've got any qualms about possible death and dismemberment, now's the time to head back and sit in your cell."

The haggard Aliam just shakes his head, clearly not interested in going back to suffer the wrath of your captors.

You manage to recover 4 of your 1st level slots, 3 of your 2nd, and 2 of your 3rd. You may select the class distribution.
As you step into the hallway you feel your connection to the holy relic strengthen. You recover your Warlock spell slots, 3 of your paladin first level slots, and 2 of your 2nd level paladin slots.
You feel much of your magical might return once you leave the cell. You do not regain your racial spells, but you regain all your 1st level paladin slots, 3 of your 2nd, 2 of your 3rd, and all of your 4th.

[Ramsus]

Cassandra tries not to think about what it must have been like for Samael to have been in that cell for so long.

"Are we safe to converse here for a few moments longer? If not the most pressing question would be if you know where we can find our armaments." Cassandra asks Imogen.

[Lioslaith]

Samael takes a deep breath, feeling more himself, "Imogen, where exactly is this place and what is it you need me for?" He nods in affirmation and follows her, no trace of fear or doubt regarding the impending possibility of doom.

He says to Cassandra, "I, for one, know my things are likely long gone given the time I was here. I think being away from here is more important than material things."

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn strength starts to come back, and so does his want to live and temperament. His connection to the earth, and to nature, starts to flood back to him, and he can feel some of his powers returning. When the lights are brought forth, he squints, "The lights will only give us away. I can see in the dark. I can also ease our passing through these halls." Lorn says a few words, waving a hand in the air, as a dark green mist shoots from his hands and covers each of you. The mist disappears quickly, "Your steps won't be seen, unless you wish them to be, and your movement will be much harder to track, and spot."

"I think the time for fearing dismemberment is past, wouldn't you say?" Lorn slightly turns and move his wing stumps. Though it hurts, it does make his point. "And if I can find my belonging before we go, I would, as well, be a happier Tiefling. Material things aren't as easily throw away for some. For some of us, its all we have in this world."

Pass Without Trace: For an hour, everyone gets +10 to stealth checks, and can’t be tracked except by magical means. A creature that receives this bonus leaves behind no tracks or other traces of its passage.

[Ramsus]

"Sir, if I may remind you, we were just told there are dangerous things between us and our exit. It would be preferable not to encounter them unarmed." Cassandra replies to her old mentor.

[Lioslaith]

Samael nods, he did realize that he was more accustomed to losing things than the others and clearly they had been here far less time than he. "Chasing down the items could lead to re-capture and the exit is thus far only known to our rescuer. I would suggest pleading to her conscience rather than mine." His words might seem harsh but there is a softness in his tone and believe it or not a softness to those white pupil less eyes. He would do whatever they wished even though he longed to be rid of this place.

[Ramsus]

Cassandra gives Samael a glare for a second before sighing and reply, "I was asking her. You chose to interrupt Sir."

[AvatarVecna]

Fargor was quiet, weighing the pros and cons in his head. "If time permits, I would like to fetch my belongings as well. Some of them are of sentimental value beyond their material worth...but if it is too far out of the way, then there's no use crying over spilt milk."

[Sir Shadow]

After leading you further down the hallway into a round chamber which serves as an intersection for another path, Imogen stops and looks at Cassandra, "Well, I suppose here is as good a place as any to stop a moment. They shouldn't notice you missing for a while, I hope." She reaches once more into her bag and begins pulling various items out. A few longswords, and a couple bastard swords are placed onto the ground along with what appears to be a sword hilt made entirely out of petrified wood.

They are followed by several sets of studded leather armor, two shields, two books, two wands (one wooden, one ivory), and a single shortbow plus quiver of arrows. Cassandra notices that one of the books is her Tome, and Lorn immediately recognizes the wooden hilt as his. Samael notices among the lost items is a silver holy symbol of Elenaaes.

"I'm afraid this was all I managed to grab from guard office before I came down. It's roughly eight flights of stairs up with numerous guards between here and there. If you'd like to go try and get your personal effects back, I'm not going to stop you, but I'm not going with you either." She turns to Samael in a low voice and adds, "I'll explain everything once we leave... for now, just focus on getting out of here alive."

As Lorn casts his spell, she raises and eyebrow, "Well, that seems might useful. Unfortunately, I'm an average human and can't see in the dark... since I'm the only one that knows where we're going, the lights stay."

[Lioslaith]

Samael bends to pick up one of the swords and a shield, testing their heft, before setting them aside and donning a set of the armor. As the armor settles over his shoulders he stretches and flexes inside it, causing it to creak in protest.

"This will do. Imogen, I can lead if you would like to stay close behind to give direction?"

Almost as an afterthought he picks up the Holy symbol, glancing at it longingly for a moment, then tucks it inside his armor.

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn grabs his longsword hilt, immediately feeling better about his situation. He also grabs a shield and a some of the studded leather armor, and starts to don the armor. He realizes that there is a problem with the armor. Though he has no wings, there were still stumps. He took his hilt of a sword, speaking a word of power, and it ignited into existence. He went to the back of the armor and cut out two holes. He then donned the leather armor again, stumps of wings peeking through the back, and fitting comfortably. He then dismissed his sword, "Well, at least now we have a chance."

[AvatarVecna]

Fargor takes one of the longswords and tests its balance a bit, careful not to swing it near one of his allies. He secures it in his belt, making a loop to attache the sheathe, before nodding. "If we have time to get our equipment, some of mine holds sentimental value beyond its material worth, but if we don't have time, that's that."

[Lioslaith]

Fargor takes one of the longswords and tests its balance a bit, careful not to swing it near one of his allies. He secures it in his belt, making a loop to attache the sheathe, before nodding. "If we have time to get our equipment, some of mine holds sentimental value beyond its material worth, but if we don't have time, that's that."

Samael turns to the elf and starts to put a hand on his shoulder but stops himself, "Let's us be gone from this place and heal our wounds. We can return for your effects when we are better prepared. I would be glad to help you retrieve them once we have our bearings back."

[AvatarVecna]

Samael turns to the elf and starts to put a hand on his shoulder but stops himself, "Let's us be gone from this place and heal our wounds. We can return for your effects when we are better prepared. I would be glad to help you retrieve them once we have our bearings back."

Fargor nods, a ghost of a smile crossing his face before vanishing into his usual calm appearance.

[Ramsus]

When Cassandra is finished donning her armor she glares at the lack of remaining shields but doesn't say anything. She picks up her tome, a longsword, one of the bastard swords, and the ivory wand. She looks at the other items and to the others and asks, "None of us need a bow?" Then she picks up the other book and examines it.

[Lioslaith]

Samael watches his old student peruse the items and hands the shield he took to her. "Do you still leave your left flank open?" He turns back to Imogen and starts off in the original direction they were headed.

[Ramsus]

Cassandra rolls her eyes at the old joke and accepts the shield with a smile. She offers Samael the bastard sword she now doesn't need with a raised eyebrow that's meant to express "well if you aren't going to have both hands full...why not?" ((If he doesn't take it she'll just hand it back over to Imogen.))

[Lioslaith]

Cassandra rolls her eyes at the old joke and accepts the shield with a smile. She offers Samael the bastard sword she now doesn't need with a raised eyebrow that's meant to express "well if you aren't going to have both hands full...why not?" ((If he doesn't take it she'll just hand it back over to Imogen.))

"Many thanks, m'lady. May we sheathe it with glee in our foe's guts."

[Ramsus]

Cassandra replies with a vicious toothy grin and, "Well said." spoken almost in a low growl.

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn looks at the bow, "I sometimes use a bow. Though I do prefer a longbow. If no one else wants it, I'll take it." Lorn shrugs. He picks up the bow, if no one else speaks up, and puts the quiver on as well.

[Sir Shadow]

As you all pour over the equipment, Imogen steps back to give you space. Anything that is not claimed by a party member is picked up and stuffed back in her bag with a shrug, "Waste not, want not."

Cassandra hears a light voice speak up as she looks at the second tome, "Ah, that would be mine, actually... It's my spellbook." Aliam holds his hand out tentatively with a smile, the relief of seeing it again obvious on his face. You see that he is dressed in rags much like the rest of you, but her keen eye notices that he holds himself very well with the posture that she has come to associate with nobility.

Once everyone is ready, Imogen sizes up Samael and shrugs, "Well, suit yourself, don't go too fast though, wouldn't want to set off a trap. The next passage should be just this way..." At her bidding, the angel leads the way down the hallway to the left, his dim light shining in the otherwise pitch blackness.

Due to Lorn's urging, most of Imogen's lights retreat back into her circlet, with just a single low blue one hovering above her head, which you assume is just enough to find traps. Aliam, who apparently is also an ordinary human, sticks close behind her to avoid missing a step.

[Lioslaith]

Samael takes his lead duties seriously being cautious. Though it's more so the others can keep up and not to injure them more so than worrying about his own safety.

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn falls in line, sneaking down the corridor as well, hoping to get the nine hell out of this place.

[Ramsus]

Cassandra follows along, considering the rituals at her disposal and deciding maybe this isn't the best place to take the time to perform them even if some might be helpful.

[Sir Shadow]

Your steps echo through the corridor in spite of any effort made to be quite, and you can't help notice that a thick layer of dust covers every surface. Clearly, nobody has come through this area in a great deal of time. To your sides, more cells stand with heavy adamantine doors shut tight. No light or sound come from them, however, so you can only assume they are as empty as yours now.

Imogen places a hand on Samael's shoulder as you come to a T-intersection before stepping forward to wipe some dust from the wall. As the grime slides away, she reveals an ancient crest which none of you immediately recognize: a two-tailed comet curling in on itself within a copper circle. Likely, this was the royal seal for whoever originally built this location.

Placing her hand on a tile within the comet's tail, she pulls with a grunt and the entire seal spins in on itself. After nearly one full rotation, there is a heavy click at which point she lets go. The seal spins back in the other direction and as it does so, a roughly 5-foot section of wall splits with half rising into the ceiling and the rest receding into the ground.

"Well, gotta hand it to whoever designed this thing. Place clearly hasn't been kept up, but this mechanism still works." She pats Samael on the shoulder again and gestures to the spiral staircase which has now been revealed, "Well, after you stud."

As you begin your descent into the darkness, you hear Aliam speak up, "Ah... not to pry, but I am curious, what were you all imprisoned for?"

[Ramsus]

"I have no idea whatsoever. Nor even whom I was imprisoned by." Cassandra says with a hint of irritation.

[Lioslaith]

"I was imprisoned for being in love." Samael grumbles in response to the question.

[AvatarVecna]

"Enacted some justice on a rather rude young man, who turned out to be affluent, well-connected, and petty."

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
The human asks why they were imprisoned, and jolt of anger shoots through Lorn. "I was a convenient scapegoat and reason to get the populous geared up for war. You don't look like a demon without having to deal with stares and jeers, but this was something else. Did Sar'Thalis ever march on Adebasha, Imogen?" As Lorn speaks, you all realize this is as much as the young Tiefling has said since he's been out of the cell.

[Lioslaith]

"Enacted some justice on a rather rude young man, who turned out to be affluent, well-connected, and petty."

"Affluent and well connected seem to nearly always come with the latter descriptive as well."



Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
The human asks why they were imprisoned, and jolt of anger shoots through Lorn. "I was a convenient scapegoat and reason to get the populous geared up for war. You don't look like a demon without having to deal with stares and jeers, but this was something else. Did Sar'Thalis ever march on Adebasha, Imogen?" As Lorn speaks, you all realize this is as much as the young Tiefling has said since he's been out of the cell.

"I have been down here far too long, it seems. What did you do to draw Sar'Thalis's attention or worse yet, his ire, Aliam?"

[Ramsus]

"Affluent and well connected seem to nearly always come with the latter descriptive as well."

"Excuse me Sir?" Cassandra interjects with a sharp look and tone.

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn cracked the smallest of smirks, barely noticeable. He knew the angel's words were true. His own family had been awful, horrible people.....that's why he'd escaped. Not because he disapproved of what they did, but because he knew it was only a matter of time until their poison crept into his veins and destroyed him completely. Both in attitude, and literally. Poison was always a potential problem in that household.

[Lioslaith]

"Excuse me Sir?" Cassandra interjects with a sharp look and tone.

"Nearly always. Though I would not presume to know you or to think you were still the same person as the student I trained." After an almost palpable pause, "M'lady."

[Sir Shadow]

Aliam's question hangs in the air for a moment before Cassandra speaks up, and after Samael's answer, there is another pause. Imogen snickers at Samael's observation regarding nobility while Aliam crosses his arms for a moment before relaxing.

"You were the one he had on the chopping block?" Imogen asks in response to Lorn before biting her lip somewhat nervously, "No... nobody's marching yet, but the city is rather worked up. Nobody wants war, but nobody wants to be the one attacked first."

"I went looking for something I shouldn't have..." is Aliam's answer the question, but sensing that wasn't quite enough, he continues, "I broke into the Grand Library and snuck into a forbidden wing... I was told that a book or scroll I was looking for would be here, but my family's name didn't get me as far as I had hoped. I was caught and... well... you know."

[Lioslaith]

"So it would seem fate is conspiring against Sar'Thalis...or with him...to bring us all together." Stopping abruptly in the dust covered hallway he turns to Imogen as she nearly runs into him. Almost nose to nose he asks her, "To what purpose have you affected my freedom?"

[Sir Shadow]

Roll me an Intimidation or Persuasion check!

[Lioslaith]

He's more just asking the question rather than trying to scare or sweet talk her!

Mod is the same for either one.
[roll0]


With that roll though, feel free to have her take it whichever way she likes, lol.

[Sir Shadow]

(( An angel stopping suddenly and turning on you before asking you a question face to face could be a little intimidating don't you think? :P ))

For a moment, there is a look of defiance in Imogen's eyes as though she was about to tell you to wait once more, but with a sigh, she seems to relent. "Look, I wasn't supposed to tell you until we're out, but I suppose you have a right to know. Adresa sent me to free you because she couldn't herself. She said that she needs to stay here to try and dissuade her brother from starting this war; it's only her presence here that's held it off this long..."

She prods you in the chest, "But don't think about doing anything stupid. She wants you safe and far away from here."

[Lioslaith]

Samael tilts his head to the side like a dog curious about something as if to say now why would you think such a thing. His eyes narrow at Imogen as he says "Sar'Thalis has already proven more than a match for me when I confronted him about her being alive. It is enough to know she still lives and knows I do as well. For now."

He turns away just as abruptly and starts leading them down the hallway once again. "I am eager to be gone from here and to heal. If you are able to get a message to her tell her that I WILL come for her, and Sar'Thalis will be unable to stop me next time."

[Ramsus]

"Hmmm. Then we might be going our separate ways when we get out of here, for I will not let this insult simply pass. Sar'Thalis invited me here under the pretense of diplomacy and then imprisoned me without even bothering to show his face to me or have someone explain why. For this I will reduce his city to ash to slay all those who would aid him. I would swear to find a way to bring down Adresa as well simply because he cares for her, if it were not for your care for her as well Sir." Cassandra comments darkly, embers burning in her eyes.

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
Lorn listens as they others discuss revenge. "Don't be a fool. Going against the thing that threw you in here by yourself will only hasten your demise. But if we leave here, heal, and regroup. The lot of us can march in and give him the justice he so richly deserves." Lorn looks to Cassadra, moving his stumps of wings, "You are not the only one who wants revenge on that Bvrecht." Lorn spits out a curse in Infernal that definitely shows his distaste for Sar'Thalis. It doesn't really have a translation in common....but it is most insulting and horrible. "He will pay for what he has taken from us. But we must be wise about how it is we deliver this justice."

[Lioslaith]

"Hmmm. Then we might be going our separate ways when we get out of here, for I will not let this insult simply pass. Sar'Thalis invited me here under the pretense of diplomacy and then imprisoned me without even bothering to show his face to me or have someone explain why. For this I will reduce his city to ash to slay all those who would aid him. I would swear to find a way to bring down Adresa as well simply because he cares for her, if it were not for your care for her as well Sir." Cassandra comments darkly, embers burning in her eyes.

"One might as well hurl a goat at his holdings to regain their honor. There is no outcome in pursuing that course of action that does not bode ill for you, Cassie. Join us.... he pauses at having included everyone thinking the elf had not weighed in as of yet.. together we may be able to prevent a war and remove a tyrant as well."

Nodding in agreement with Lorn "The fiend has the right of it, together we are a force to be reckoned with."

He smiles quietly at the insult hurled in Sar'Thalis's direction.

[Sir Shadow]

"Well, whatever you lot want to do once we're out of here is your business, but I certainly wouldn't entertain the thought of fighting an archangel," Imogen shivers, and not because of the chill creeping into the air as you continue your descent, "I'd rather not end up a burned husk, thank you very much."

Aliam shrugs, "Even where I'm from, we have books on his conquests during the War... he would be a overwhelming foe."

The staircase comes to an abrupt end in a small alcove which opens into a large room. From what you can see, there are several tables against the far wall with metal rings hanging from the walls and attached to the floor. The smell of rusting iron hangs in the air, almost overwhelming the faint traces of dried blood and refuse mixed with it.

"Down here is where the ones that built this keep would torture their victims or experiment on them. The tales go that the Court Mage of the time was completely mad and even became a Lich." Imogen pulls out a cloth and covers her lower face with it to ward off the stench, "When he wasn't by the Sultan's side, he was down here practicing his dark magic on prisoners."

On the wall opposite of where you entered, roughly forty feet away, is another opening. You can see metal hinges attached to the side, meaning the door either rotted away at some point or it was blown off.

[Lioslaith]

Samael leads the troop onward through the grisly room, "How much farther before we see the light of the sun again?"

[Irish Musician]

Lorn (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1069204), Druid of the Desert
As the smell hits Lorn's nostrils, he is glad of his own smell of brimstone to mask most of the worst part of the smells. He chuckles to himself, Funny, my mother had a chamber just like this one for torturing her victims as well. It never went well for them either. He continued along with the others, keeping a weather eye out.

[Ramsus]

Cassandra just gives a grunt, acknowledging people's words about not picking a fight with a being who already threw the first punch against all of them, and continues on. She looks over at the tiefling's chuckle with a raised eyebrow but doesn't say anything figuring if he wanted to share his thoughts, he would have.