Post by Joliette Thorne on May 6, 2008 3:11:23 GMT -5
--Merchant Street, Cenril--
Christian can be seen walking down the western path, his father's sword slung over one shoulder and a bottle of whisky in his free hand. His gaze, a polished steel hue, peer out from behind free hanging strands of chestnut hair. The stubble upon his face has grown a shade or two darker and his current attire give him the appearance of a beggar. All this is used to the warrior's advantage, as this helps him gain the upper hand on potential victims. His gaze goes to a few, before moving over to and locking on Tenebrae. She seemed off, even in this crowded street of people. This may prove interesting for the mercenary.
Tenebrae was cowled, robed, and bolting down the cobbles in the direction of the Cenril bridge resembling nothing so much as a bat out of hell, feet flying so fast that sparks were struck where metal heels met bluestone, and with an angry crowd behind of mixed guards and tagalong citizens hoping to witness the first decent public flogging in months. Cries of "Thief!", "Get him (clearly she was disguised)!" and "Flogging!" or "Hang 'im high!" rang through the air, but to Tenebrae, upon whom the weight of the loot she'd garnered from robbing the inn was weighing heavily, it would all be a blur of sound, the street a blur of chaotic sight, the air a ripple of thrill. She loved the chase-- but they were gaining, and needs be done what was needed-- slowing to strip off her robe, ducked for a second behind a wagon whose half-blind and elderly owner stood out front, wondering where the fugitive had fled to, she re-emerged to fling the garment over the first person in sight, and hands-on-hips she pointed accusingly. "There he is!"
Christian would raise a slightly curved brow at the sight of this stranger running towards him, and before he could even mutter a single word darkness enveloped him. The cloak Tene used to disguise herself was about his form now, and in the confusion of the scramble Chris knew this bloodthirsty mob would not care who was the real culprit, they wanted to see some justice. Ha! And this mercenary would be damned if it was gonna be his ass on the gallows, so he took his father's sword out of its confines and in a blur grabbed the women accusing him and placed the blade against her pale throat. " Alright you bastards!" He called out. " Back off or the women gets it!" As the mob slowed its pace, Chris would whisper in her ear...
"I don't know what you got me into, but go along and we both get outta this!"
Justyn had just entered the area when he heard all the commotion. At fit, the outrages cries of 'Thief!' alarmed him, due to the fact that he himself had sticky fingers earlier in the day. At first, Justyn froze in place, until he got a better view as to what was going on. With sly caution, cowardice even, Justyn dove behind a barrel and watched on as a man took a woman hostage. Sensing that things may take a turn for the worse, the concealed man readies his twin daggers.
Tenebrae grit her fangs... things could go either way here. Machiavellian mind had cogs wheeling, gears turning... the man at her throat was quick-witted, just the type she was looking for, and a quick stomp of sharpened heel and spring for freedom to leave him hang might negate any potential usefulness. So, go along with him she would, peridot eyes keenly scanning the rooftops for possible escape routes even as she put on her best maiden-in-distress voice, "Help me! O, who will save me from this blaggard? Stand back!" The angry mob, as one, clattered to a collective halt, their makeshift weapons, brooms and building planks, lofted. The guard's Captain, clearly a new recruit to the rank and unfamiliar with Cabal's former exploits in the land, had stepped forward from among the mob, his hands up in a gesture of reasonable plea. "R..right mister, you be puttin' the lady down, and we'll go easier on ye." He was hoping to keep the man occupied long enough that the troop he'd sent 'round back might head off any route to escape.
Christian would smirk as the young captain played so easily into this little game between Tene and himself, and sensing that this strange woman would go along with the ploy, the Lionhart heir continued on. " Oy! You best be backin' off 'ere of I'll gut her good!" He jerked Tene slightly, though added a little more "hmph!" to sell the act. The reaction was exactly what he hoped, as these simple minded fools knew not that both these two were playing them like a village idiot. Seeing a potential for gain here, Christian calls out. " Throw down yer weapons! And all yer jewels too!" He jerked the blade closer, though angled it so that no harm would come to Tene. He even cut a tad into his own arm as to make it seem that she was the one cut in this fascade. " Throw them down at her feet, and give me some space! Or I swear her head will make a fine addition to my collection!" Again he whispered to his "captive"...
"Once they give us the loot, I have a way out of here, unless you had something planned already..."
Justyn moved without sound, each step naught but a passing shadow while he crept toward the struggling woman and her captor. The brazen male caught sight of the arriving guards that snuck along the back alley ways, catching on quickly to their tactical manoeuvre. It was in this brief moment that Justyn contemplated two simple choices: To either save the girl, gaining fame and renown, with the possibility of a reward; Or should he assist the man in getting away, demanding a cut of the loot he stole. Instead of making that decision himself, the shadowy figure decided to let the captor make the choice. Now upon Christian like flies to manure, the cold metallic tip of one dagger sat rested against his target's kidney, pressure applied to let the other now of his advantage. Tone low, barely audible, he says to Christian, "Make up my mind. Do I ill you now, and save the girl? Or are ye gonna split the spoils with me if I help get you out of here?"
Tenebrae didn't have a plan-- hence the frenzied run in the first place and, slightly incredulous, now would turn to give Christian such a withering stare that surely the mob might believe she wanted him dead, just then. And really, they weren't far wrong. "What are y'doin' you blithering idiot?" The vampiress hissed. "Robbin' the damned mob wantin' to hang us?" The kid had moxy, she'd give him that, but by the gods, surely not a brain in his head. There was nothing for it, as the tramp and clank of two dozen of Cenril's best came hurtling round the corner of the far end of the street but to play it up and hope for a break. "O save me! He'll cut my throat, I know it!" A pile of brooms, planks, cheap Government issue swords and sundry wedding-bands and pocket-watches soon grew to a untidy heap before them. Oh yeah. That was some loot. And what now? What was he saying? But it wasn't the mercenary's voice that rumbled low... And it was a voice she remembered. The pub.. Unable to see the interloper's face from where she was, she'd just have to wait to either remember who it belonged to, or catch a glimpse. The tromp of marching men only got closer. Over the rooftops appeared the pale and excited faces of some new guards, arrows primed at the hapless trio.
Christian lets a smirk cross over his face as this situation goes from bad to worse in a matter of moments. Now with a knife to his back, and another dozen or so guards coming up behind them all the mercenary did the only thing he could think of. He took a heavy swig of his whisky. For a moment he let the warm liquor settle in his mouth before he gulped it down, the warming sensation it gives off sending a shiver down his spine. The prick of the dagger on his liver makes him chuckle, as several of the guards now near their little group. " Well... its about that time..." He says, a sly wink given towards Tenebrae as he brings two fingers to his lips and blows heavily between them. The whistling sound that erupts from this is long and loud, and the result is nothing but amazing. From the rooftops come a small band of warriors, all with bows cocked and ready, the tips flaming and their sights of the dozen or so barrels that the little sneak sticking him just left. With a nod from Christian they unleash their bolts, all aimed for these barrels. In a matter of moments the bundle is aflame, and in just another moment the small crates explode. Having been planning to rob the Cenril bank for the past three months, Chris and his band of hoodlums had devised an escape plan that would have been a great way to cause a full scale riot to cover their tracks, but as now with all this commotion that plan was dead, so he now used it to his advantage. The explosion sent out enough force to knock the entire crowed, all three of them included, right on their asses. Having expected this, Chris uses this time to scoop up as much loot as he can and hightail it down a back ally, a mocking wave given off to the two left in his wake.
Justyn didn't have time to react. By the time he had uttered 'son o' as the strange male's companions drew his attention, the would be hero is sent sprawling backward from the force of the blast. A sickening thud echoed out as his back slapped the flat stone facing of one of the nearby buildings. Luckily not knocked out from such force, Justyn struggled to regain his bearing, as well as his breath. Even though he held little care for anything other than objects of material worth, the young man felt that he could not just take off without knowing if she was alright. If he had found her alive and in well shape, he would indeed give chase to the thief now taking flight in the alley..
Tenebrae was one moment caught in a strange little ménage a trois of knives and misplaced heroics, the next blown to a frazzle of singed black hair and skinned knees as the thieving crew of her erstwhile captor gave fire to the barrels. Dazed, a bit deafened, she shook her head as all around her chaos reigned-- and not the good kind, either. The mob, not so near the blast, were quick to recover their feet and now rushed forward-- the world became a jangle of boots and hands and muffled voices, and Tene was hauled to her feet. Someone was barking something loudly, and there was a sword at her back. The fate of the third ruffian she could not surmise in the crowd, but she could see battle on the rooftops, those whey-faced Cenrillian guards suddenly given reason to do their duty. And that troop that had stomped in from the western end was followed by another.. and another... From the corner of her eye, she spotted a robed figure bolting. Why he'd choose to flee down a blind alley, she didn't know. But with the guards headed there, and Christian's men driven back from sheer force of numbers, she didn't fancy his chances. They were like angry ants, swarming on the small band... That shouting voice became suddenly audible as her ears popped, still ringing, giving it a tinny sound to the bits that came clear to her in snatches as a bevy of hands seized her limbs. "... her! She's the one!...on the poster... Thief!" Oh brilliant, the jig was up. Her one satisfaction was knowing the cheeky lad who'd left her to this Fate was likely to join her in Cenril's least comfortable guest-house.
Christian would indeed have it look to be that he was foolishly trotting down to a dead end, and to be captured by the town guard and be hanged for all to see, but Sven be damned if that’s what he really had in mind! Making his way around the nearest corner, he came upon the last barrel of gunpowder. Pushing it on his side he rolled it so that he could shove it back down the ally. As he turned a corner a spear came flying by, and glanced his left shoulder. " Mother!!??" Is all the escapes his lips as he uses his superior leg strength to heave the now rolling bomb down the ally. A few guards stop the barrel a good fifty feet down the corridor, and smirk as they think the jig is up. But then the bottle of whisky, with a burning rag stuffed into the neck, comes crashing into them and the barrel. A few moments later another explosion occurs, and three out of the five guards are blown back by the force. Only bits and pieces of the rest remain. The blast is used as cover once again, as the debris is used to cover his escape through a well hidden hole in the back corner of a store. Hoping the crowd will be preoccupied by that blast, Chris dons a new outfit and tries to sneak away down the streets towards the west.
Justyn blinks as he watches the woman is put under arrest. He knew she was done for, so instead he turned to take the same path the dastardly man had taken. Instead of freedom, Justyn was halted by a row of blades aimed in his direction. "Halt, thief." a guard demanded. How could this get any worse?
Tenebrae missed that second explosion. She was being frogmarched off to prison by the triumphant Captain, who was rifling through her pack even as he lead the way. "Aha!" Yes, loot, clearly of Cenril-make, a few rings even bearing the city's crest. A last-ditch break for freedom had some rough man's cudgel descend on her head, and it would be in complete incomprehension she'd be taken toward a stoutly barred cell.
Demont arrives on the scene and alights gently upon the street behind his guardsmen, eyes falling suddenly to Tenebrae, "What's this about, Tenebrae?"
Tenebrae was, at that point, unconscious.
Demont had previously not seen the blow, and shrugs. He waves his guards to continue on. He would speak with the women when he came to.
Justyn looks in the direction of the new arrival curiously, yet keeps his lips sealed tight.
--Cenril Jail--
Demont follows the group to the jail, watching as each captive is deposited into separate cells.
Tenebrae groaned softly, sat up, clutching the bump on her head. The stink, the stone floor, the bars. Oh... the swimming world suddenly made sense. And here she was again, this time on the wrong side of the bars. This time, no Leo. She'd squint, trying to discern who else might be present as her sight cleared.
Demont finds a somewhat clean tin cup and a basin of cool water and fills the cup, handing the thing to Tenebrae through the bars.
Justyn stood in the corner of his cell with legs crossed an arms folded over one another. He was obviously a tad upset that one of the guards had taken his favorite set of daggers. Reaching up to the bandanna that covered golden hair, the man pulled out a crudely fashioned toothpick to chew on while he exchanged glances between Tenebrae and the officer of Law.
Tenebrae took the cup, a rueful glance to the avian, and sipped, coughing as the cold water trickled down the wrong way. Peridot eyes shifted briefly to spy Justyn through the bar of the next cell. "You..." Tene hadn't had a chance to see who it was that'd tried to rob the other thief, and mentally rolled her eyes at Fate's apparent joke. The very thief shed promised herself she'd throttle, if she got the chance. Demont was given a wry grin then. "Ello, Grumpyfeathers."
Demont said, "I am disappointed, Tenebrae."
Tenebrae chewed her lip a bit, her eyes large and blinking gently at Demont. You know, trying to look remorseful.
Justyn has never heard the term "grumpyfeathers' before, but recognised the name the man spoke. Silent, he listened in since the two apparently knew each other.
Demont looks to Justyn “As for you, I do not know you. I wonder if you are aware the price for thievery is hanging?”
Tenebrae gave Demont a sharp look, then, but remained silent.
Justyn says nothing at first, gaze locked onto the other's. if this was the price for such a crime, then he had but one option. "I was not aware, no. If this is the punishment, then you should know that this woman was forced into this act. My partner-- who your nitwit task force let escape, is the other that you want. We forced her into this mess, so let her free."
Demont said to Justyn, "She shall stay, for a little while. You, hanged." His voice was cold and flat as he spoke, then turned to Tenebrae, "Hungry?"
Tenebrae shook her head. Yeah, the thief might have done over her pub and likely, had she been there at the time, would have happily run a sword through him, but here and now he was the innocent, and whatever conscience exists in her charred little black soul chirped annoyingly. She butted in, addressing Demont. "Uh, no. It was me. That man stole nothing. He was.. trying to be noble." Mostly a lie, but a kind one.
Justyn smirks, "Listen to her. She's deluded. That blast must have scrambled her senses. C'mon lady, you surely don't want to be hanged for something you didn't do"
Demont shrugs, not really caring either way. "Why where you in my city in the first place, Tenebrae? I would not rob your tavern, why would you rob from my city?"
Tenebrae gave Justyn a sidelong look and winked, before shifting her gaze back to the avian, muttering, "Didn't really mean to... but the innkeep walked off. Safe was open..." She smiled, returning helplessly. "What's a girl to do?"
Justyn shook his head and laughed. He never would have guessed that the owner of the establishment that he frequented would ever commit thievery. For now he took to silence, watching the pair intently.
Demont said, "Then you both shall hang, simple enough."
Tenebrae 's smile snapped. "What?" Clambering to her feet, she clung to the bars, her expression near-blank. "You cannot be serious."
Demont turns to look at Tenebrae, his face as blank as hers, "I am. You should have thought of what was to happen if you were caught, and my friendship betrayed as such."
Tenebrae's expression darkened. "Wasn't so long ago you were behind these same bars, Demont. Remember that? When we stole the mayor?"
Demont said, "I do. But, it was not my city then."
Tenebrae snapped, "And it may not be now, had you not my help, Roussai."
Demont is as cold as winter stone still, "I do remember you begged me to dive into Hell, for you."
Justyn frowned as he listened to the pair bicker, head hung low as he contemplated what to do next. He did not feel like digging a deeper hole for the pair. However, it appeared that they were to both die as it was, so the blonde man interacted. "Sir, I believe you risk an international incident if you do this. Our crime is very small. We each hail from two other lands outside your own. I would not like to see this wonderful City go to war for the hanging of a pair of misfits that do not even belong in your city. All you'd have to do is look the other way and we'd be gone. For good. Think about this, sir. You have everything that was stolen. You have nothing to lose."
Tenebrae barely heard the other thief's words, her rage a dull pulse in her ears. "And what did we retrieve from hell, Demont, but your own flesh and blood? Is your gratitude for that weighed in a handful of cheap jewels, in coins alone?'
Demont said, "You fail to see, it seems, that I feel betrayed, more than anything."
Tenebrae said, "You fail to realise exactly how stupid a population you rule, who walk off leaving an open safe. But if your daughter's life comes so cheap as your friendship, then I suppose there's nothing more to be said."
Demont exits the jail, not looking back.
Justyn shakes his head. "You could have went along. Been a free bird..."
Tenebrae nodded. "And let you hang. I probably should have."
Justyn slumps against the wall, sliding to his rear. "Then why didn't you?"
Tenebrae shook her head again, taking up much the same pose. "I have no idea" The vampiress closed her eyes, and for the moment, no more would be said.
Tenebrae would hold her eyes closed a long time. What thoughts went through that head, who could know, but when she opened them again there was no spark of a plan shining, no rush of momentum building toward an attempt at escape. She'd underestimated Roussai, and was paying the price, stuck miles from home in a cell and no way to let her people know the fate the avian had in store for her, and the thief incarcerated with her. He had fallen silent, too. Thus she sat for a long time, staring at the bars, the walls, her expression empty as though waiting for inspiration that did not come. Night passed, and the moon rose to glimmer through the tiny barred window, high up on the cell's thick stone wall. To this, she turned her eyes, lost in some dream or other of the past, when a shadow fell over the pearly light like an inkblot on a parchment sheet. Sitting up, she narrowed her eyes. A soft gurgling, a familiar gnash of teeth. --Maladroit-- He'd been conspicuously missing during the robbery, left to himself to hunt whatever filthy life crawled through the undergrowth in the Dark Forest, to which he had taken a liking. Perhaps he'd become bored and tracked her down, or more likely simply disobeyed her directive that he stay behind, she couldn't know. But she was suddenly and awfully glad to see him... Now her mind ticked over. How could she alert her people, who did not speak goblinish, even if Maladroit was willing to take the message? Her pack, and thus all possible useful contents, was stowed beneath the Sheriff’s desk, her pack-strap visible from where she sat. Pockets.. she wished she had some, most of them being in that cloak she'd left on the lad earlier. As she patted down her clothing, a faint rustle had her fingers searching frantically for the source. Kasyr's papers... and Saiyah's notes. The crumpled parchments were unfurled, and while Maladroit snuffled quietly and groped his midnight-hued little arms through the bars as though trying to grasp his Mistress, Tene wondered what she'd use for a quill. No charcoal handy, no ochre-stones. She'd make a face, before holding her thumb up and jabbing the pad into the tip of a fang. The little well of blood would do, and she scrawled a short and hasty message on one, before stabbing her other thumb similarly and repeating the message on the other. ~ Help. In Cenril. Gonna hang.~ The papers were folded small, each wad tossed high enough for her familiar's grasping hands to catch. And with that, his inky silhouette melted away from the light, and there was only the moon staring at her like a vast, accusing eye.
Justyn looked up finally when he heard movement. Had this strange woman been hiding some form of trick up her sleeve? When her movement ceased, the man lost hope, assuming that whatever she were to try had failed. With furrowed brow, the man lay back against the cool floor, staring upward at the ceiling with troubled thoughts of his own impending doom.
Tenebrae was similarly quiet, if not quite as bereft of hope. The prison was well-guarded, the bars strong, and while for the moment the Sheriff seemed absent, there was no key left on a hook, no easy way out. She sighed, and clanked the cup Demont had given her against the bars, its tinny notes echoing against the solid stone walls.
---Later---
((Missing Lalki post here))
At the sound of Lalki's voice, Tenebrae shot to her feet, hardly believing it. Had the goblin, for once, done what he was supposed to? Whirling, she saw the woman, with children in tow, and wondered how in hell she'd managed to get through the Cenril guard. "Lalki... " Tene pressed against the bars. "How... never mind. Listen, you must tell Cabal where I am. Can you do that?" There was an edge of desperation in her tone.
Lalki gives a curt nod, "I live here, I said I was visiting." She bites her lip as she looks upon the woman with utmost worry, "I can do that... Who do I contact?"
Tenebrae spoke hurriedly -- a clank and thud told her that the Sheriff had returned. "Isen, at the ship likely, in Rynvale.. or Kasyr, but I know not where he will be. They know where to find the rest. You have my thanks. Gods speed you." A worried look was cast toward the door, where a figure had entered, she saw in her periphery as she turned away, unwilling to get Lalki into trouble.
Thea 's eyes search frantically for the vampiress, sigh of relief escaping paled lips as she asks in near panic, "Tene what has happened?"
Isen follows closely on Thea's heels, fingers probing for the hidden hilts of daggers. His golden gaze sweeps through the room, searching for his clan leader. He spots her, hurrying over toward her.
Tranzier flits into the room, saying nothing he flits off into a corner and settles in to observe.
Tenebrae grinned at the sound of Thea's voice, and turned-- only to catch sight of Isen, also. "Pix! Isen..." The grin fell away. "I was.. helping the innkeeper with a tax problem.. misunderstanding, you know..." She looked at the floor. "Guards got me and the hero over there," her thumb jerked Justyn's way. "Roussai flaps in and tells me I'm gonna hang." Tranzier's arrival was greeted with a startled sound. "What... how'd you all get through the guards?"
Justyn lifts his head to the sound of others entering the room. At first he figures it is the guards returning to carry the pair off to their death. However, he is quite surprised at what he sees and remains silent to the ordeal.
Lalki steps back to give the others flooding in more room to greet their leader and friend. She watches as the two elven girls at her feet huddle closer and cling to her legs. The woman gives a small grin, thinking to herself the gods were faster than she thought.
Thea looked as if the answer to that should have been obvious, she was after all capable of being a mere few inches in length and air-bound. "We will not worry of that just now. Tax problem, indeed." Thea kept an eye turned toward the golem as she moved in closer to whisper the next bit, "What the hell are we going to do? You cannot hang..and should we get you out, Mr. Flappy is going to have all our heads on a pike."
Isen 's face splits in a grin, a glance being thrown back the way he had come. Looking back to the chained Tenebrae, he rasps, "We must free you, and damn the avian." A thought strikes him, and he asks, "But what matter if you hang? You surely do not need to breathe..."
Thea sighs heavily, looking to the impulsive Isen as she awaits response from Tene.
Vael finds himself entering rather later than both Thea or Isen...Perhaps it was his delay to gaze upon the skittish half-elf from the tavern, but regardless, he was slower in his arrival, and thus, is rather unsure as to the going-ons. Tenebrae is afforded his immediate attention, however, as his gaze lands upon her, and he can only assume what trouble she caused to land her in a predicament requiring the arrival of others...The gods alone only knew, to be certain. The words he hears from her, however, about guards, misunderstandings, and tax problems gives some hint, but still, his mind is rather hazy about the ordeal. He can't help but let his scarred lips twist into a smirk, however, as he lets various scenarios play in his head. Then, of course, others speak, and it's only then that he allows his voice to flow. "It would still not do, Isen, to see her hang. The force of her drop could snap her neck, and then she would find herself as mortal as the rest of us, likely."
Lalki stands aside, the woman patting her frightened daughters on their heads as she listens, her ears perking with the words. She seems to lie in wait, as if in desire to assist.
Tenebrae muttered something in agreeance to Vael, who was greeted with a small wave, and something to Isen which indicated she was pretty sure Demont would make certain she did not survive the ordeal. The she looked to the pixie. "Thea, I do not know. But I'm not afraid of that winged tosser and his flock, and neither's Cabal, I know that." A few more choice words escaped her before the Sheriff started making noises of compliant about so many being in the cell.
Thea shakes her head, uncertain of what measures she would have to go through to see that the vampiress was freed, but knowing Tene would do the same for her. "Alright. We need a plan then." The pixie looks to the others, viridians beckoning for suggestions on how to release her dear friend.
Isen 's hand rubs longingly over his dagger's hilt, and a look is thrown toward the sheriff. Looking back to the group, he whispers, his voice barely audible. "I'm in favor of killing them all. Perhaps even Roussai, if it comes to it. But, I'm open to suggestion."
Vael almost grins at the lycanthrope's suggestion, though he manages to refrain. "I'd almost agree with you. I've a weapon that needs breaking in. However, I don't believe slaying them all to be the wisest course in this endeavor. Perhaps a few, but not all." His gaze shifts to the golem, a brow lofting at the sight. "That, after all, would take a bit of time to down. And by then we'd have more guards than a royal's castle down our throats. Of course, I've got a few tricks that may aid us there, if it comes to it." His eye shifts towards Tenebrae, focusing upon the vampiress from the corner of his eye. "But I wonder; does anyone have a weapon that can break her bonds?"
Thea was listening to the various thoughts on the matter, suggestions ringing in her ears and mulling over in mind when as if like an explosion the Druidess pops up, right hand resting to the bag at her side, "We need not kill anyone..not yet anyway, not tonight." Lowering her voice as she once more peers towards the guard, the pixie calls Tranzier over to her. "Do you have your pouch as well? I don't know what I was thinking..or not thinking, but we can simply cast a sleeping spell on them, get her out of here and deal with the rest on the morrow." Thea holds to the flap of the dust, awaiting any response.
Lalki steps in, her voice dropping to their level and her words directed at Thea, "I can provide a hideout for anyone after the escape.”
Tenebrae listened intently to the soft voices of her friends and clansmates, over the clank and whirr of the golem's fussing. Relief was evident in her features, and perhaps a little disappointment when mass slaughter was voted not an option. Her eyes shifted Justyn's way. "The crafty bugger there, he offered to take my place... we should spring him, too, for the favour."
Thea looks towards Lalki arch-browed, "I do not intend on hiding anywhere. She may need shelter for some time, but I will deal with things on my end for my own doings in this."
Tenebrae muttered something about dead golems telling no tales..
Isen eyes the thief, remembering well the sight of him rooting in the cellars. Finally though, he nods, and says, "We could hide aboard the Eternity...Call the crew, maybe set sail for a few days?"
Lalki gives the fey a small nod, "If anything else needs done, I'm willing to help either way..." She withdraws back to her children at the edge of the small crowd.
Tranzier nods to Thea, lifting the pouch to her. "I have It here."
Vael eyes the thief, himself, this being the first time he has lain eyes - or eye, rather - upon the man. But with a shrug, he states, "If he was willing to take your place, then I suppose him to be worth the effort. Be that as it may, but, and correct me if I'm wrong...aren't golems immune to sleeping effects, as they do not sleep? Regardless of how many you put to slumber, we will still have to fight at least it."
Tenebrae spoke to Lalki first, "Listen, pet, I may need to hole up for a while.. d'you think you can run the pub whilst I'm gone? If you need gold, ask Cabal for it, or one of the regulars.. I'll pay 'em back when I can." She looked to Tranzier with hope, as Thea made her way out, and nodded to Isen's suggestion, though Vael's words had her frowning. "Got a point there.."
Lalki gives the elder vampriss an affirmative nod, though nothing more as to not arouse suspicion from the guards.
Isen casts a gaze to the golem, assessing, calculating. "So be it. The pixie puts the men to sleep, and we destroy the golem. Then, it's away to the ship, and freedom." He seems excited at the prospect, his teeth baring in a feral grin.
Vael nods his acceptance, his gaze once again focused upon the sheriff. "Pixie, if you would be so kind as to put the living guards to sleep, then? And with some subtlety, if you wouldn't mind; I don't care to attract that things attention sooner than need be."
Tenebrae was looking more hopeful by the minute, green eyes sliding the golem's way and back. her chains were not tight, only firm enough to prevent her slipping the one bound ankle loose.
Vael said to you, "When the pixie begins his work," comes his voice in the soft tone that has been used through the entirety of this interaction, "I suggest standing as far from the chain's mount as possible, to pull it taut. The weapon I will be using should be strong enough to break the chain, and give you your freedom."
Justyn seems to cheer up a tad, a sly grin etching his feature to the sounds of an early release. Observant, quiet, the man watched the woman's team of experts closely, waiting to see how they really worked in a situation such as this.
Isen straightens, looking toward the door, and further, to the coast. "I will call the crew from whatever drunken state they are in, and prepare the Eternity to sail. AS soon as you are on board, we can cast off the ropes, and raise the anchor." With that, his dark form slips out of the jail, as easily as he had come in.
Lalki leans down to heft her children up, the woman glancing to Tenebrae and using a hushed voice, "I'll take good care of the pub, good luck." With that the woman gives a yawn and an exit with a friendly smile cast toward the golem.
Tenebrae nodded to Vael. "Just give the word." She watched Isen’s departure, knowing where the lycan was bound, and hoped for a smidgeon of Luck to get to her to Rynvale.
Vael hadn't noticed the departure of the pixie, but the sudden sounding of a snore outside the cell certainly heralded his handywork. "This is why I keep clear of the small folk," he mutters, looking about the jailhouse and to the sleeping guards that litter the place. Golems. Stupid things, they tend to be, and this one is apparently no exception; it stands fast despite the slumbering of its 'lackeys.' With a quick swipe of his hand, a rift seems to open before the drow, a haze akin to that which perpetually surrounds his body forming in the air before him. "Now is a good time to move," he declares, his tone increased to normal tones, considering what he plans to do. Within a quick moment, the positions of both chain and golem are memorized, his hand shoots outward into the rift, and a great globe of darkness falls over the jail, concealing all from sight. Whatever it is the drow reaches for within the rift is drawn forth, the sound of something metallic sheering through metal and clanging against the stone floor - or hopefully so, rather than the meaty sound of it cleaving through the flesh of Tenebrae's leg - indicating its presence. Without a doubt, the golem is surely reacting to the sudden loss of sight, though it likely can see through the magical darkness, and so Vael gives a hissing, "Now move, and see to the escape of the thief; I'll keep the golem distracted." It's then that the drow turns, dropping his magical darkness, a great polearm in hand, adamantite axeheads at either end, and he falls into a battle stance that should be new for the former necromantic swordsman...yet it seems unnervingly natural for the dark elf.
Tenebrae was engulfed in a darkness even her night-accustomed eyes had difficulty penetrating, and did as Vael had bidden, pulling away from the wall hard. A moment later and she'd land on the stone below with a muffled thud when metal was sliced by some means she might remember to ask about later. Right now, she was intent on getting free of the space, and finding a way to free the 'honourable thief' in the next cell. The sound of mass snoring outside told her the way would be clear.. for a time... but figured it best not to wait for the drow to dispatch the golem before searching it for keys. In the supernatural gloom, sharp ears sourced the jangle of metal, and she'd bolt, chain dragging, toward it. The man-made creature might have sight, but it wouldn't have the speed, surely, to prevent her hasty snatch at its belt and cater to whatever the drow was doing at the same time. It made a distracted feint at her, metallic fingers clutching at and missing her arm, but by then it was fully engaged with its immediate opponent and did not further attempt to stop her. Ducking to the Justyn's cell, she fitted key after to key to lock, wincing at the sounds behind her, and at length had the door swinging open. She tossed the keys to the man, and turned back toward the impending battle, wondering how to get through it to the desk, under which lay her pack and her weapon in case it was needed.
Vael pays little heed to the going-ons happening about him as he battles the golem, that great, two-headed poleaxe swinging, twirling, thrusting, adamantite clanging off the metal of the great brute's hide. Every now and again the air would chill for a moment as death magics are released, colliding with the sheriff's body with miniature explosions of sonic force, slowly whittling away at the thing's form. But then, he hasn't used anything but those rays of negative energy Tenebrae has seen before, but it's with a smirk, and a great overhead twirl of his weapon that his next spell erupts forth. His weapon, that wondrous thing of adamantite and runes, becomes engulfed in a darkness far more malevolent than the near-impenetrable blindness of his earlier globe. This darkness is almost sentient, a malevolent and cruel thing, and it quite eagerly spins towards the drow's opponent as Vael loosens his grip on his poleaxe, taking hold of it just below one of the axeheads and lowering it to twirl about in a cyclonic motion, as though he is about to release the weapon itself. That darkness, normally meant to consume souls, does little true harm to the golem, but it does render it immobile. In lieu of the construct's soul, it seems, it rather simply devoured its essence, removing the 'life' from the thing. "I suggest we hurry," Vael calls, returning his weapon to its otherwordly home. "I truly do not know how long that spell will hold the golem incapacitated."
Tenebrae made a run for the desk, finding the Sheriff's animation suspended as it were, to collect her things. Justyn was given a low shout, "You comin' or fending for yourself?" The drow's shadows seemed quite as black as her own depleted magics, when they were in better shape, and she shuddered a little at having to move through it to cross the room, a nod given the drow. "To the ship, then." Turning to glance over her shoulder, the vampiress said to the thief, "You can follow, if you want a place to hide out." Soon, whether he was behind her or no, she was bolting through a throng of sleeping guards, toward the eastern beach.
Justyn felt that his answer was evident as he picked up his belongings and was hot on the trail of the other. He didn't want to wait around and find out what would happen if the winged one came back. "...Ship?" He called out as they were fleeing; more of a puzzled response than an inquiry.
Vael is hot on the trail of the other two as the flee, giving a dismissive wave of his arm only as he finally crosses the threshold, his malignant spell fading to leave a very confused golem behind. Surely it had just been fighting? it had to be wondering in that dumb mind of its, And surely I had prisoners? But alas, they were all long gone before even the first guard began to stir from its pixie dust-induced sleep. Oh, how Vaelustil wishes he could hear the curses they would surely be shouting.
Christian can be seen walking down the western path, his father's sword slung over one shoulder and a bottle of whisky in his free hand. His gaze, a polished steel hue, peer out from behind free hanging strands of chestnut hair. The stubble upon his face has grown a shade or two darker and his current attire give him the appearance of a beggar. All this is used to the warrior's advantage, as this helps him gain the upper hand on potential victims. His gaze goes to a few, before moving over to and locking on Tenebrae. She seemed off, even in this crowded street of people. This may prove interesting for the mercenary.
Tenebrae was cowled, robed, and bolting down the cobbles in the direction of the Cenril bridge resembling nothing so much as a bat out of hell, feet flying so fast that sparks were struck where metal heels met bluestone, and with an angry crowd behind of mixed guards and tagalong citizens hoping to witness the first decent public flogging in months. Cries of "Thief!", "Get him (clearly she was disguised)!" and "Flogging!" or "Hang 'im high!" rang through the air, but to Tenebrae, upon whom the weight of the loot she'd garnered from robbing the inn was weighing heavily, it would all be a blur of sound, the street a blur of chaotic sight, the air a ripple of thrill. She loved the chase-- but they were gaining, and needs be done what was needed-- slowing to strip off her robe, ducked for a second behind a wagon whose half-blind and elderly owner stood out front, wondering where the fugitive had fled to, she re-emerged to fling the garment over the first person in sight, and hands-on-hips she pointed accusingly. "There he is!"
Christian would raise a slightly curved brow at the sight of this stranger running towards him, and before he could even mutter a single word darkness enveloped him. The cloak Tene used to disguise herself was about his form now, and in the confusion of the scramble Chris knew this bloodthirsty mob would not care who was the real culprit, they wanted to see some justice. Ha! And this mercenary would be damned if it was gonna be his ass on the gallows, so he took his father's sword out of its confines and in a blur grabbed the women accusing him and placed the blade against her pale throat. " Alright you bastards!" He called out. " Back off or the women gets it!" As the mob slowed its pace, Chris would whisper in her ear...
"I don't know what you got me into, but go along and we both get outta this!"
Justyn had just entered the area when he heard all the commotion. At fit, the outrages cries of 'Thief!' alarmed him, due to the fact that he himself had sticky fingers earlier in the day. At first, Justyn froze in place, until he got a better view as to what was going on. With sly caution, cowardice even, Justyn dove behind a barrel and watched on as a man took a woman hostage. Sensing that things may take a turn for the worse, the concealed man readies his twin daggers.
Tenebrae grit her fangs... things could go either way here. Machiavellian mind had cogs wheeling, gears turning... the man at her throat was quick-witted, just the type she was looking for, and a quick stomp of sharpened heel and spring for freedom to leave him hang might negate any potential usefulness. So, go along with him she would, peridot eyes keenly scanning the rooftops for possible escape routes even as she put on her best maiden-in-distress voice, "Help me! O, who will save me from this blaggard? Stand back!" The angry mob, as one, clattered to a collective halt, their makeshift weapons, brooms and building planks, lofted. The guard's Captain, clearly a new recruit to the rank and unfamiliar with Cabal's former exploits in the land, had stepped forward from among the mob, his hands up in a gesture of reasonable plea. "R..right mister, you be puttin' the lady down, and we'll go easier on ye." He was hoping to keep the man occupied long enough that the troop he'd sent 'round back might head off any route to escape.
Christian would smirk as the young captain played so easily into this little game between Tene and himself, and sensing that this strange woman would go along with the ploy, the Lionhart heir continued on. " Oy! You best be backin' off 'ere of I'll gut her good!" He jerked Tene slightly, though added a little more "hmph!" to sell the act. The reaction was exactly what he hoped, as these simple minded fools knew not that both these two were playing them like a village idiot. Seeing a potential for gain here, Christian calls out. " Throw down yer weapons! And all yer jewels too!" He jerked the blade closer, though angled it so that no harm would come to Tene. He even cut a tad into his own arm as to make it seem that she was the one cut in this fascade. " Throw them down at her feet, and give me some space! Or I swear her head will make a fine addition to my collection!" Again he whispered to his "captive"...
"Once they give us the loot, I have a way out of here, unless you had something planned already..."
Justyn moved without sound, each step naught but a passing shadow while he crept toward the struggling woman and her captor. The brazen male caught sight of the arriving guards that snuck along the back alley ways, catching on quickly to their tactical manoeuvre. It was in this brief moment that Justyn contemplated two simple choices: To either save the girl, gaining fame and renown, with the possibility of a reward; Or should he assist the man in getting away, demanding a cut of the loot he stole. Instead of making that decision himself, the shadowy figure decided to let the captor make the choice. Now upon Christian like flies to manure, the cold metallic tip of one dagger sat rested against his target's kidney, pressure applied to let the other now of his advantage. Tone low, barely audible, he says to Christian, "Make up my mind. Do I ill you now, and save the girl? Or are ye gonna split the spoils with me if I help get you out of here?"
Tenebrae didn't have a plan-- hence the frenzied run in the first place and, slightly incredulous, now would turn to give Christian such a withering stare that surely the mob might believe she wanted him dead, just then. And really, they weren't far wrong. "What are y'doin' you blithering idiot?" The vampiress hissed. "Robbin' the damned mob wantin' to hang us?" The kid had moxy, she'd give him that, but by the gods, surely not a brain in his head. There was nothing for it, as the tramp and clank of two dozen of Cenril's best came hurtling round the corner of the far end of the street but to play it up and hope for a break. "O save me! He'll cut my throat, I know it!" A pile of brooms, planks, cheap Government issue swords and sundry wedding-bands and pocket-watches soon grew to a untidy heap before them. Oh yeah. That was some loot. And what now? What was he saying? But it wasn't the mercenary's voice that rumbled low... And it was a voice she remembered. The pub.. Unable to see the interloper's face from where she was, she'd just have to wait to either remember who it belonged to, or catch a glimpse. The tromp of marching men only got closer. Over the rooftops appeared the pale and excited faces of some new guards, arrows primed at the hapless trio.
Christian lets a smirk cross over his face as this situation goes from bad to worse in a matter of moments. Now with a knife to his back, and another dozen or so guards coming up behind them all the mercenary did the only thing he could think of. He took a heavy swig of his whisky. For a moment he let the warm liquor settle in his mouth before he gulped it down, the warming sensation it gives off sending a shiver down his spine. The prick of the dagger on his liver makes him chuckle, as several of the guards now near their little group. " Well... its about that time..." He says, a sly wink given towards Tenebrae as he brings two fingers to his lips and blows heavily between them. The whistling sound that erupts from this is long and loud, and the result is nothing but amazing. From the rooftops come a small band of warriors, all with bows cocked and ready, the tips flaming and their sights of the dozen or so barrels that the little sneak sticking him just left. With a nod from Christian they unleash their bolts, all aimed for these barrels. In a matter of moments the bundle is aflame, and in just another moment the small crates explode. Having been planning to rob the Cenril bank for the past three months, Chris and his band of hoodlums had devised an escape plan that would have been a great way to cause a full scale riot to cover their tracks, but as now with all this commotion that plan was dead, so he now used it to his advantage. The explosion sent out enough force to knock the entire crowed, all three of them included, right on their asses. Having expected this, Chris uses this time to scoop up as much loot as he can and hightail it down a back ally, a mocking wave given off to the two left in his wake.
Justyn didn't have time to react. By the time he had uttered 'son o' as the strange male's companions drew his attention, the would be hero is sent sprawling backward from the force of the blast. A sickening thud echoed out as his back slapped the flat stone facing of one of the nearby buildings. Luckily not knocked out from such force, Justyn struggled to regain his bearing, as well as his breath. Even though he held little care for anything other than objects of material worth, the young man felt that he could not just take off without knowing if she was alright. If he had found her alive and in well shape, he would indeed give chase to the thief now taking flight in the alley..
Tenebrae was one moment caught in a strange little ménage a trois of knives and misplaced heroics, the next blown to a frazzle of singed black hair and skinned knees as the thieving crew of her erstwhile captor gave fire to the barrels. Dazed, a bit deafened, she shook her head as all around her chaos reigned-- and not the good kind, either. The mob, not so near the blast, were quick to recover their feet and now rushed forward-- the world became a jangle of boots and hands and muffled voices, and Tene was hauled to her feet. Someone was barking something loudly, and there was a sword at her back. The fate of the third ruffian she could not surmise in the crowd, but she could see battle on the rooftops, those whey-faced Cenrillian guards suddenly given reason to do their duty. And that troop that had stomped in from the western end was followed by another.. and another... From the corner of her eye, she spotted a robed figure bolting. Why he'd choose to flee down a blind alley, she didn't know. But with the guards headed there, and Christian's men driven back from sheer force of numbers, she didn't fancy his chances. They were like angry ants, swarming on the small band... That shouting voice became suddenly audible as her ears popped, still ringing, giving it a tinny sound to the bits that came clear to her in snatches as a bevy of hands seized her limbs. "... her! She's the one!...on the poster... Thief!" Oh brilliant, the jig was up. Her one satisfaction was knowing the cheeky lad who'd left her to this Fate was likely to join her in Cenril's least comfortable guest-house.
Christian would indeed have it look to be that he was foolishly trotting down to a dead end, and to be captured by the town guard and be hanged for all to see, but Sven be damned if that’s what he really had in mind! Making his way around the nearest corner, he came upon the last barrel of gunpowder. Pushing it on his side he rolled it so that he could shove it back down the ally. As he turned a corner a spear came flying by, and glanced his left shoulder. " Mother!!??" Is all the escapes his lips as he uses his superior leg strength to heave the now rolling bomb down the ally. A few guards stop the barrel a good fifty feet down the corridor, and smirk as they think the jig is up. But then the bottle of whisky, with a burning rag stuffed into the neck, comes crashing into them and the barrel. A few moments later another explosion occurs, and three out of the five guards are blown back by the force. Only bits and pieces of the rest remain. The blast is used as cover once again, as the debris is used to cover his escape through a well hidden hole in the back corner of a store. Hoping the crowd will be preoccupied by that blast, Chris dons a new outfit and tries to sneak away down the streets towards the west.
Justyn blinks as he watches the woman is put under arrest. He knew she was done for, so instead he turned to take the same path the dastardly man had taken. Instead of freedom, Justyn was halted by a row of blades aimed in his direction. "Halt, thief." a guard demanded. How could this get any worse?
Tenebrae missed that second explosion. She was being frogmarched off to prison by the triumphant Captain, who was rifling through her pack even as he lead the way. "Aha!" Yes, loot, clearly of Cenril-make, a few rings even bearing the city's crest. A last-ditch break for freedom had some rough man's cudgel descend on her head, and it would be in complete incomprehension she'd be taken toward a stoutly barred cell.
Demont arrives on the scene and alights gently upon the street behind his guardsmen, eyes falling suddenly to Tenebrae, "What's this about, Tenebrae?"
Tenebrae was, at that point, unconscious.
Demont had previously not seen the blow, and shrugs. He waves his guards to continue on. He would speak with the women when he came to.
Justyn looks in the direction of the new arrival curiously, yet keeps his lips sealed tight.
--Cenril Jail--
Demont follows the group to the jail, watching as each captive is deposited into separate cells.
Tenebrae groaned softly, sat up, clutching the bump on her head. The stink, the stone floor, the bars. Oh... the swimming world suddenly made sense. And here she was again, this time on the wrong side of the bars. This time, no Leo. She'd squint, trying to discern who else might be present as her sight cleared.
Demont finds a somewhat clean tin cup and a basin of cool water and fills the cup, handing the thing to Tenebrae through the bars.
Justyn stood in the corner of his cell with legs crossed an arms folded over one another. He was obviously a tad upset that one of the guards had taken his favorite set of daggers. Reaching up to the bandanna that covered golden hair, the man pulled out a crudely fashioned toothpick to chew on while he exchanged glances between Tenebrae and the officer of Law.
Tenebrae took the cup, a rueful glance to the avian, and sipped, coughing as the cold water trickled down the wrong way. Peridot eyes shifted briefly to spy Justyn through the bar of the next cell. "You..." Tene hadn't had a chance to see who it was that'd tried to rob the other thief, and mentally rolled her eyes at Fate's apparent joke. The very thief shed promised herself she'd throttle, if she got the chance. Demont was given a wry grin then. "Ello, Grumpyfeathers."
Demont said, "I am disappointed, Tenebrae."
Tenebrae chewed her lip a bit, her eyes large and blinking gently at Demont. You know, trying to look remorseful.
Justyn has never heard the term "grumpyfeathers' before, but recognised the name the man spoke. Silent, he listened in since the two apparently knew each other.
Demont looks to Justyn “As for you, I do not know you. I wonder if you are aware the price for thievery is hanging?”
Tenebrae gave Demont a sharp look, then, but remained silent.
Justyn says nothing at first, gaze locked onto the other's. if this was the price for such a crime, then he had but one option. "I was not aware, no. If this is the punishment, then you should know that this woman was forced into this act. My partner-- who your nitwit task force let escape, is the other that you want. We forced her into this mess, so let her free."
Demont said to Justyn, "She shall stay, for a little while. You, hanged." His voice was cold and flat as he spoke, then turned to Tenebrae, "Hungry?"
Tenebrae shook her head. Yeah, the thief might have done over her pub and likely, had she been there at the time, would have happily run a sword through him, but here and now he was the innocent, and whatever conscience exists in her charred little black soul chirped annoyingly. She butted in, addressing Demont. "Uh, no. It was me. That man stole nothing. He was.. trying to be noble." Mostly a lie, but a kind one.
Justyn smirks, "Listen to her. She's deluded. That blast must have scrambled her senses. C'mon lady, you surely don't want to be hanged for something you didn't do"
Demont shrugs, not really caring either way. "Why where you in my city in the first place, Tenebrae? I would not rob your tavern, why would you rob from my city?"
Tenebrae gave Justyn a sidelong look and winked, before shifting her gaze back to the avian, muttering, "Didn't really mean to... but the innkeep walked off. Safe was open..." She smiled, returning helplessly. "What's a girl to do?"
Justyn shook his head and laughed. He never would have guessed that the owner of the establishment that he frequented would ever commit thievery. For now he took to silence, watching the pair intently.
Demont said, "Then you both shall hang, simple enough."
Tenebrae 's smile snapped. "What?" Clambering to her feet, she clung to the bars, her expression near-blank. "You cannot be serious."
Demont turns to look at Tenebrae, his face as blank as hers, "I am. You should have thought of what was to happen if you were caught, and my friendship betrayed as such."
Tenebrae's expression darkened. "Wasn't so long ago you were behind these same bars, Demont. Remember that? When we stole the mayor?"
Demont said, "I do. But, it was not my city then."
Tenebrae snapped, "And it may not be now, had you not my help, Roussai."
Demont is as cold as winter stone still, "I do remember you begged me to dive into Hell, for you."
Justyn frowned as he listened to the pair bicker, head hung low as he contemplated what to do next. He did not feel like digging a deeper hole for the pair. However, it appeared that they were to both die as it was, so the blonde man interacted. "Sir, I believe you risk an international incident if you do this. Our crime is very small. We each hail from two other lands outside your own. I would not like to see this wonderful City go to war for the hanging of a pair of misfits that do not even belong in your city. All you'd have to do is look the other way and we'd be gone. For good. Think about this, sir. You have everything that was stolen. You have nothing to lose."
Tenebrae barely heard the other thief's words, her rage a dull pulse in her ears. "And what did we retrieve from hell, Demont, but your own flesh and blood? Is your gratitude for that weighed in a handful of cheap jewels, in coins alone?'
Demont said, "You fail to see, it seems, that I feel betrayed, more than anything."
Tenebrae said, "You fail to realise exactly how stupid a population you rule, who walk off leaving an open safe. But if your daughter's life comes so cheap as your friendship, then I suppose there's nothing more to be said."
Demont exits the jail, not looking back.
Justyn shakes his head. "You could have went along. Been a free bird..."
Tenebrae nodded. "And let you hang. I probably should have."
Justyn slumps against the wall, sliding to his rear. "Then why didn't you?"
Tenebrae shook her head again, taking up much the same pose. "I have no idea" The vampiress closed her eyes, and for the moment, no more would be said.
Tenebrae would hold her eyes closed a long time. What thoughts went through that head, who could know, but when she opened them again there was no spark of a plan shining, no rush of momentum building toward an attempt at escape. She'd underestimated Roussai, and was paying the price, stuck miles from home in a cell and no way to let her people know the fate the avian had in store for her, and the thief incarcerated with her. He had fallen silent, too. Thus she sat for a long time, staring at the bars, the walls, her expression empty as though waiting for inspiration that did not come. Night passed, and the moon rose to glimmer through the tiny barred window, high up on the cell's thick stone wall. To this, she turned her eyes, lost in some dream or other of the past, when a shadow fell over the pearly light like an inkblot on a parchment sheet. Sitting up, she narrowed her eyes. A soft gurgling, a familiar gnash of teeth. --Maladroit-- He'd been conspicuously missing during the robbery, left to himself to hunt whatever filthy life crawled through the undergrowth in the Dark Forest, to which he had taken a liking. Perhaps he'd become bored and tracked her down, or more likely simply disobeyed her directive that he stay behind, she couldn't know. But she was suddenly and awfully glad to see him... Now her mind ticked over. How could she alert her people, who did not speak goblinish, even if Maladroit was willing to take the message? Her pack, and thus all possible useful contents, was stowed beneath the Sheriff’s desk, her pack-strap visible from where she sat. Pockets.. she wished she had some, most of them being in that cloak she'd left on the lad earlier. As she patted down her clothing, a faint rustle had her fingers searching frantically for the source. Kasyr's papers... and Saiyah's notes. The crumpled parchments were unfurled, and while Maladroit snuffled quietly and groped his midnight-hued little arms through the bars as though trying to grasp his Mistress, Tene wondered what she'd use for a quill. No charcoal handy, no ochre-stones. She'd make a face, before holding her thumb up and jabbing the pad into the tip of a fang. The little well of blood would do, and she scrawled a short and hasty message on one, before stabbing her other thumb similarly and repeating the message on the other. ~ Help. In Cenril. Gonna hang.~ The papers were folded small, each wad tossed high enough for her familiar's grasping hands to catch. And with that, his inky silhouette melted away from the light, and there was only the moon staring at her like a vast, accusing eye.
Justyn looked up finally when he heard movement. Had this strange woman been hiding some form of trick up her sleeve? When her movement ceased, the man lost hope, assuming that whatever she were to try had failed. With furrowed brow, the man lay back against the cool floor, staring upward at the ceiling with troubled thoughts of his own impending doom.
Tenebrae was similarly quiet, if not quite as bereft of hope. The prison was well-guarded, the bars strong, and while for the moment the Sheriff seemed absent, there was no key left on a hook, no easy way out. She sighed, and clanked the cup Demont had given her against the bars, its tinny notes echoing against the solid stone walls.
---Later---
((Missing Lalki post here))
At the sound of Lalki's voice, Tenebrae shot to her feet, hardly believing it. Had the goblin, for once, done what he was supposed to? Whirling, she saw the woman, with children in tow, and wondered how in hell she'd managed to get through the Cenril guard. "Lalki... " Tene pressed against the bars. "How... never mind. Listen, you must tell Cabal where I am. Can you do that?" There was an edge of desperation in her tone.
Lalki gives a curt nod, "I live here, I said I was visiting." She bites her lip as she looks upon the woman with utmost worry, "I can do that... Who do I contact?"
Tenebrae spoke hurriedly -- a clank and thud told her that the Sheriff had returned. "Isen, at the ship likely, in Rynvale.. or Kasyr, but I know not where he will be. They know where to find the rest. You have my thanks. Gods speed you." A worried look was cast toward the door, where a figure had entered, she saw in her periphery as she turned away, unwilling to get Lalki into trouble.
Thea 's eyes search frantically for the vampiress, sigh of relief escaping paled lips as she asks in near panic, "Tene what has happened?"
Isen follows closely on Thea's heels, fingers probing for the hidden hilts of daggers. His golden gaze sweeps through the room, searching for his clan leader. He spots her, hurrying over toward her.
Tranzier flits into the room, saying nothing he flits off into a corner and settles in to observe.
Tenebrae grinned at the sound of Thea's voice, and turned-- only to catch sight of Isen, also. "Pix! Isen..." The grin fell away. "I was.. helping the innkeeper with a tax problem.. misunderstanding, you know..." She looked at the floor. "Guards got me and the hero over there," her thumb jerked Justyn's way. "Roussai flaps in and tells me I'm gonna hang." Tranzier's arrival was greeted with a startled sound. "What... how'd you all get through the guards?"
Justyn lifts his head to the sound of others entering the room. At first he figures it is the guards returning to carry the pair off to their death. However, he is quite surprised at what he sees and remains silent to the ordeal.
Lalki steps back to give the others flooding in more room to greet their leader and friend. She watches as the two elven girls at her feet huddle closer and cling to her legs. The woman gives a small grin, thinking to herself the gods were faster than she thought.
Thea looked as if the answer to that should have been obvious, she was after all capable of being a mere few inches in length and air-bound. "We will not worry of that just now. Tax problem, indeed." Thea kept an eye turned toward the golem as she moved in closer to whisper the next bit, "What the hell are we going to do? You cannot hang..and should we get you out, Mr. Flappy is going to have all our heads on a pike."
Isen 's face splits in a grin, a glance being thrown back the way he had come. Looking back to the chained Tenebrae, he rasps, "We must free you, and damn the avian." A thought strikes him, and he asks, "But what matter if you hang? You surely do not need to breathe..."
Thea sighs heavily, looking to the impulsive Isen as she awaits response from Tene.
Vael finds himself entering rather later than both Thea or Isen...Perhaps it was his delay to gaze upon the skittish half-elf from the tavern, but regardless, he was slower in his arrival, and thus, is rather unsure as to the going-ons. Tenebrae is afforded his immediate attention, however, as his gaze lands upon her, and he can only assume what trouble she caused to land her in a predicament requiring the arrival of others...The gods alone only knew, to be certain. The words he hears from her, however, about guards, misunderstandings, and tax problems gives some hint, but still, his mind is rather hazy about the ordeal. He can't help but let his scarred lips twist into a smirk, however, as he lets various scenarios play in his head. Then, of course, others speak, and it's only then that he allows his voice to flow. "It would still not do, Isen, to see her hang. The force of her drop could snap her neck, and then she would find herself as mortal as the rest of us, likely."
Lalki stands aside, the woman patting her frightened daughters on their heads as she listens, her ears perking with the words. She seems to lie in wait, as if in desire to assist.
Tenebrae muttered something in agreeance to Vael, who was greeted with a small wave, and something to Isen which indicated she was pretty sure Demont would make certain she did not survive the ordeal. The she looked to the pixie. "Thea, I do not know. But I'm not afraid of that winged tosser and his flock, and neither's Cabal, I know that." A few more choice words escaped her before the Sheriff started making noises of compliant about so many being in the cell.
Thea shakes her head, uncertain of what measures she would have to go through to see that the vampiress was freed, but knowing Tene would do the same for her. "Alright. We need a plan then." The pixie looks to the others, viridians beckoning for suggestions on how to release her dear friend.
Isen 's hand rubs longingly over his dagger's hilt, and a look is thrown toward the sheriff. Looking back to the group, he whispers, his voice barely audible. "I'm in favor of killing them all. Perhaps even Roussai, if it comes to it. But, I'm open to suggestion."
Vael almost grins at the lycanthrope's suggestion, though he manages to refrain. "I'd almost agree with you. I've a weapon that needs breaking in. However, I don't believe slaying them all to be the wisest course in this endeavor. Perhaps a few, but not all." His gaze shifts to the golem, a brow lofting at the sight. "That, after all, would take a bit of time to down. And by then we'd have more guards than a royal's castle down our throats. Of course, I've got a few tricks that may aid us there, if it comes to it." His eye shifts towards Tenebrae, focusing upon the vampiress from the corner of his eye. "But I wonder; does anyone have a weapon that can break her bonds?"
Thea was listening to the various thoughts on the matter, suggestions ringing in her ears and mulling over in mind when as if like an explosion the Druidess pops up, right hand resting to the bag at her side, "We need not kill anyone..not yet anyway, not tonight." Lowering her voice as she once more peers towards the guard, the pixie calls Tranzier over to her. "Do you have your pouch as well? I don't know what I was thinking..or not thinking, but we can simply cast a sleeping spell on them, get her out of here and deal with the rest on the morrow." Thea holds to the flap of the dust, awaiting any response.
Lalki steps in, her voice dropping to their level and her words directed at Thea, "I can provide a hideout for anyone after the escape.”
Tenebrae listened intently to the soft voices of her friends and clansmates, over the clank and whirr of the golem's fussing. Relief was evident in her features, and perhaps a little disappointment when mass slaughter was voted not an option. Her eyes shifted Justyn's way. "The crafty bugger there, he offered to take my place... we should spring him, too, for the favour."
Thea looks towards Lalki arch-browed, "I do not intend on hiding anywhere. She may need shelter for some time, but I will deal with things on my end for my own doings in this."
Tenebrae muttered something about dead golems telling no tales..
Isen eyes the thief, remembering well the sight of him rooting in the cellars. Finally though, he nods, and says, "We could hide aboard the Eternity...Call the crew, maybe set sail for a few days?"
Lalki gives the fey a small nod, "If anything else needs done, I'm willing to help either way..." She withdraws back to her children at the edge of the small crowd.
Tranzier nods to Thea, lifting the pouch to her. "I have It here."
Vael eyes the thief, himself, this being the first time he has lain eyes - or eye, rather - upon the man. But with a shrug, he states, "If he was willing to take your place, then I suppose him to be worth the effort. Be that as it may, but, and correct me if I'm wrong...aren't golems immune to sleeping effects, as they do not sleep? Regardless of how many you put to slumber, we will still have to fight at least it."
Tenebrae spoke to Lalki first, "Listen, pet, I may need to hole up for a while.. d'you think you can run the pub whilst I'm gone? If you need gold, ask Cabal for it, or one of the regulars.. I'll pay 'em back when I can." She looked to Tranzier with hope, as Thea made her way out, and nodded to Isen's suggestion, though Vael's words had her frowning. "Got a point there.."
Lalki gives the elder vampriss an affirmative nod, though nothing more as to not arouse suspicion from the guards.
Isen casts a gaze to the golem, assessing, calculating. "So be it. The pixie puts the men to sleep, and we destroy the golem. Then, it's away to the ship, and freedom." He seems excited at the prospect, his teeth baring in a feral grin.
Vael nods his acceptance, his gaze once again focused upon the sheriff. "Pixie, if you would be so kind as to put the living guards to sleep, then? And with some subtlety, if you wouldn't mind; I don't care to attract that things attention sooner than need be."
Tenebrae was looking more hopeful by the minute, green eyes sliding the golem's way and back. her chains were not tight, only firm enough to prevent her slipping the one bound ankle loose.
Vael said to you, "When the pixie begins his work," comes his voice in the soft tone that has been used through the entirety of this interaction, "I suggest standing as far from the chain's mount as possible, to pull it taut. The weapon I will be using should be strong enough to break the chain, and give you your freedom."
Justyn seems to cheer up a tad, a sly grin etching his feature to the sounds of an early release. Observant, quiet, the man watched the woman's team of experts closely, waiting to see how they really worked in a situation such as this.
Isen straightens, looking toward the door, and further, to the coast. "I will call the crew from whatever drunken state they are in, and prepare the Eternity to sail. AS soon as you are on board, we can cast off the ropes, and raise the anchor." With that, his dark form slips out of the jail, as easily as he had come in.
Lalki leans down to heft her children up, the woman glancing to Tenebrae and using a hushed voice, "I'll take good care of the pub, good luck." With that the woman gives a yawn and an exit with a friendly smile cast toward the golem.
Tenebrae nodded to Vael. "Just give the word." She watched Isen’s departure, knowing where the lycan was bound, and hoped for a smidgeon of Luck to get to her to Rynvale.
Vael hadn't noticed the departure of the pixie, but the sudden sounding of a snore outside the cell certainly heralded his handywork. "This is why I keep clear of the small folk," he mutters, looking about the jailhouse and to the sleeping guards that litter the place. Golems. Stupid things, they tend to be, and this one is apparently no exception; it stands fast despite the slumbering of its 'lackeys.' With a quick swipe of his hand, a rift seems to open before the drow, a haze akin to that which perpetually surrounds his body forming in the air before him. "Now is a good time to move," he declares, his tone increased to normal tones, considering what he plans to do. Within a quick moment, the positions of both chain and golem are memorized, his hand shoots outward into the rift, and a great globe of darkness falls over the jail, concealing all from sight. Whatever it is the drow reaches for within the rift is drawn forth, the sound of something metallic sheering through metal and clanging against the stone floor - or hopefully so, rather than the meaty sound of it cleaving through the flesh of Tenebrae's leg - indicating its presence. Without a doubt, the golem is surely reacting to the sudden loss of sight, though it likely can see through the magical darkness, and so Vael gives a hissing, "Now move, and see to the escape of the thief; I'll keep the golem distracted." It's then that the drow turns, dropping his magical darkness, a great polearm in hand, adamantite axeheads at either end, and he falls into a battle stance that should be new for the former necromantic swordsman...yet it seems unnervingly natural for the dark elf.
Tenebrae was engulfed in a darkness even her night-accustomed eyes had difficulty penetrating, and did as Vael had bidden, pulling away from the wall hard. A moment later and she'd land on the stone below with a muffled thud when metal was sliced by some means she might remember to ask about later. Right now, she was intent on getting free of the space, and finding a way to free the 'honourable thief' in the next cell. The sound of mass snoring outside told her the way would be clear.. for a time... but figured it best not to wait for the drow to dispatch the golem before searching it for keys. In the supernatural gloom, sharp ears sourced the jangle of metal, and she'd bolt, chain dragging, toward it. The man-made creature might have sight, but it wouldn't have the speed, surely, to prevent her hasty snatch at its belt and cater to whatever the drow was doing at the same time. It made a distracted feint at her, metallic fingers clutching at and missing her arm, but by then it was fully engaged with its immediate opponent and did not further attempt to stop her. Ducking to the Justyn's cell, she fitted key after to key to lock, wincing at the sounds behind her, and at length had the door swinging open. She tossed the keys to the man, and turned back toward the impending battle, wondering how to get through it to the desk, under which lay her pack and her weapon in case it was needed.
Vael pays little heed to the going-ons happening about him as he battles the golem, that great, two-headed poleaxe swinging, twirling, thrusting, adamantite clanging off the metal of the great brute's hide. Every now and again the air would chill for a moment as death magics are released, colliding with the sheriff's body with miniature explosions of sonic force, slowly whittling away at the thing's form. But then, he hasn't used anything but those rays of negative energy Tenebrae has seen before, but it's with a smirk, and a great overhead twirl of his weapon that his next spell erupts forth. His weapon, that wondrous thing of adamantite and runes, becomes engulfed in a darkness far more malevolent than the near-impenetrable blindness of his earlier globe. This darkness is almost sentient, a malevolent and cruel thing, and it quite eagerly spins towards the drow's opponent as Vael loosens his grip on his poleaxe, taking hold of it just below one of the axeheads and lowering it to twirl about in a cyclonic motion, as though he is about to release the weapon itself. That darkness, normally meant to consume souls, does little true harm to the golem, but it does render it immobile. In lieu of the construct's soul, it seems, it rather simply devoured its essence, removing the 'life' from the thing. "I suggest we hurry," Vael calls, returning his weapon to its otherwordly home. "I truly do not know how long that spell will hold the golem incapacitated."
Tenebrae made a run for the desk, finding the Sheriff's animation suspended as it were, to collect her things. Justyn was given a low shout, "You comin' or fending for yourself?" The drow's shadows seemed quite as black as her own depleted magics, when they were in better shape, and she shuddered a little at having to move through it to cross the room, a nod given the drow. "To the ship, then." Turning to glance over her shoulder, the vampiress said to the thief, "You can follow, if you want a place to hide out." Soon, whether he was behind her or no, she was bolting through a throng of sleeping guards, toward the eastern beach.
Justyn felt that his answer was evident as he picked up his belongings and was hot on the trail of the other. He didn't want to wait around and find out what would happen if the winged one came back. "...Ship?" He called out as they were fleeing; more of a puzzled response than an inquiry.
Vael is hot on the trail of the other two as the flee, giving a dismissive wave of his arm only as he finally crosses the threshold, his malignant spell fading to leave a very confused golem behind. Surely it had just been fighting? it had to be wondering in that dumb mind of its, And surely I had prisoners? But alas, they were all long gone before even the first guard began to stir from its pixie dust-induced sleep. Oh, how Vaelustil wishes he could hear the curses they would surely be shouting.