Chapter 37

Toshiro thinks as he observes the three guards. Looking at the entryway to the imprisoning area, he mentally calculated distances and did not come up with a pleasing number. Taking all three was not a good option right at this moment; time for plan two.

Slipping over to the entry, Toshiro pads silently into the heretic holding areas. Moving quickly and quietly, he searched the area and came upon Cael and his fellow prisoners. Hearing another prisoner offering a spoon in response to Cael's request for something sharp, he stepped in to the area they were in. Mentally taking inventory, he pulled a slim sharpened spike from his sash. Moving near Cael, he spoke softly to him. "Cael, do not be alarmed; It is Toshiro and I have come to try and get you free." Dropping the spike in front of the young priest he continued. "See if this might work; if not, then I have two possible solutions...."

As he heard a familiar voice, Cael turned to look at the cell door, only to see... no one. His brow furrowed, but before he could think about what was going on, he saw a metal pick of some sort magically appear in the small window of the door, falling....

Hardly concious of the move, Cael dove towards the pick, catching it momentarily after it hit the ground. Damn, he is there.... But where? Toshiro hadn't show any ability to turn invisible before, to Cael's knowledge. Mmmm... perhaps Gwehn was able to do something.

Unfortunately, as Cael looked the metal pick, he realised it would be of no use to him. It was too small to use as a prybar, and Cael had no knowledge of lockpicking, to free his cellmate from his chains.

Morgan hoisted herself silently through the window just as the door across from it opened. That would be Toshiro. The scowling guards were starting to turn back into the room as she eased it shut behind her. There... all as it was before.

Tripping lightly down the hall, she thought she heard a murmur of noise and headed that way. There was a light spanging noise, as of a small metal object dropped onto a tile floor. Yep. That way. She'd get the door open and...

Uh-oh. Someone else had also heard the noise. A guard lounging at the end of the cell bloc leapt to his feet. ::Enough talking!:: he said sternly in Ehosian. ::And what was that noise? What are you doing in there?:: He pushes the chair back and heads for Cael's cell, where he'll surely see that Cael is unshackled...

Drek, Toshiro thought as the unseen guard made his presence known. You're slipping, old man... As the voice from the other cell droned on about rats, he slinked over to the edge of the cell area as the guard approached. Once in place, he waited untill almost the last second until...

Despairing over this situation, Cael doesn't even hear the guard approach. He realises his mistake as he sees the guard peer into the cell. The guard's eyes widen as he sees Cael free, but then roll back into his head, and the guard's face sinks below the window's view, revealing Toshiro, who shrugs. "Ancient Jade secret...."

"S'cuse me," the half-elf whispers, stepping over the fallen guard and nudging past Toshiro. Little metallic clicking and scraping noises start up in the general vicinity of the lock. Glancing up, Morgan noticed one man - apparently Cael, who they were to rescue - was already free of his manacles.

Neat trick.

A gentle flex of her right wrist, and the tumbler fell back. "Don't open it yet," she advised, hurrying to carefully dab oil on the door's hinges first. "Should be all right. Slowly, now."

Damn. This situation is getting worse. Time for drastic measures. Cael moves over towards Aaron. "Time to get you free. Cover your face." As Cael starts to chant, he thinks he hears the lock of the door. Too late, he thinks, but continues with the spell.

Fssshhttzzz! A searing bolt of light and heat jumps from Cael's hands and slams into the wall just where Aaron's chains are attached. The blast scatters bits of masonry and bits of red hot chain around the room.

Ah, shit Toshiro thinks as Cael blasts the chains. "The pick was for him to... ah, hell." Toshiro turns and rushes for the door to the cell block area. The guards in the other room surely heard the spells results....

His thoughts were rewarded as the door slammed open to reveal the aforementioned guards. The poor soul in the doorway had no time to react as Toshiro leapt and planted his feet in the middle of the Ehosian's chest. This resulted in relieving the man of all breath and sending him crashing into the other guard following him. The third one however, drew his blade as he made ready to either charge or bolt.

"BY THE SEED OF THOR'S LEFT TESTICLE!!!" Aaron bellows. Looking around with dazzled eyes. The after immage, even with his eyes coverd causing lights to dance in his vison. As well that he can hardly hear himself think due to the sound of the intense thunderclap in the confined space they are in. Temporarily deafened by the assault to his ears, unable to hear a word of anything for a time. The blast of the bold arcing right past him.

The length of chain still dangling from his still bound wrists at least able to serve as an excellent makeshift weapon. The forces of chaos already begining to stir the swirl of events arround him.

Edgeing out into the hall, chain swinging slighty at the ready. His eyes roving cautiously up and down the corridor. Escape perhaps, but his priorities are clear. Find his Runebag... and Greysrune, his blade. Both items are a part of his being, crafted of his own hands, sweat and bound to him with his own blood.

His ears ringing still, makeing it hard to focus on the call of these pieces of himself, near at hand, but his concentration and control blured by pain. His head acheing from the deafening sound.....all the while, within him....the Rage builds....

Across the street Gwenh got this uneasy feeling, one of those something ain't right Sparky feelings that nag at you and nag at you... Edging closer and closer to the building as best she could, she heard a loud noise and thought: "Damn it!" Bolting across the street, Gwenh threw open the door of the prison and gritted her teeth, calling a spell to mind, she prepared for the worst.

The single remaining guard (I think there's one left, right?) has retreated to the front room, and is pulling vigourously on a rope. It must be attatched to a bell, as a clanging sound starts up.

That done, he readies he weapon, flinching when the door flies open to reveal Gwenh's dark-robed figure. ::The heretics must not be allowed to poison the souls of the people,:: he says sternly, in Ehosian. ::I cannot permit them to leave.::

The tolling bell, meanwhile, grabs the attention of the Flame-tail patrol nearby. They quickly double back towards the prison. Falling Leaf, her face as blank as a wind-smoothed dune, silently readies a volley of throwing spikes to greet them.

As the third guard rang the bell, Toshiro reached for the dropped sword of the guardsman. Hefting the scimitar, he made a snap judgement of its weight. It'll fly, he thought and he hurled it at the two downed guards, giving a small 'Ki' grunt with the effort.

The balanced blade tumbled true and pierced the front soldier's chest, surprising the hapless trooper. However, it only managed to impale the one; the other began to free himself from under his partner. Surging foward, Toshiro snaked out a side kick to guard two's head, stunning or killing him (he wasn't sure) and turned to the third guard, readying to take him out as well.

Cael shook his head to clear it, momentarily stunned by the sheer noise caused by his sunlance. Since he had never before had to use it indoors, he hadn't realised until now just how loud the explosion it caused could be. Enough idling, time to move! he ordered himself. He paused long enough to make sure his rune wielding cell-mate was truely free before following him towards the door.

Cael stopped though when he saw one of the guards, still awake and alert, ringing the alarm bell. With his head still ringing, he hadn't even noticed the bell. What the...? "Toshiro, I thought you had handled the guards!" This was something he did not want to deal with. Corrupt priests he had little qualms about dispatching, but a guard, probably ignorant to the truth, only doing his job? But the sooner that guard was stopped, the better. Damn. Cael felt a wave of queasiness rise up as he raised his hands towards the guard, readying a spell....

[Back to Aaron - Ed.]Trying to hold his concentration together, despite the fact that, when he is injured or enraged, the berzerkers heratage that is so much a part of his people, boils to the surface. The fight that landed him in this jail, not on the same order. In that instance he was in relative control of the situation and himself. Now however it is much different. Abrupt pain an injury, the outrage to his hearing and eyesight putting him in a situation he does not control. Events whirling in confusion, and the chaos building, moving virtually blind into the coridor. Bouncing off a wall or two as he gets his bearings. Free but not free. Trapped by what he cannot see.

His burgoning rage lending him a strength, fueled by adrenaline and a quite human fear of the unknown around him. Muscles flex and ripple like the swell of water during evenint tide. The blood boiling in him, muscles expanding all over his boddy as he seems to swell in size.

Still an afterimmage of a bright flash obscureing his vison. He pauses in the hall, leaning against the nearest wall and trying to channel the fury in himself. It is an indiscrimanate fury, knowing no allies or friends. Takeing the rage within and forcing it to a narrow focus, being as well a Runecaster, teaching him a certain discipline, his whole body seems to flex in a spasm, the sound of snapping metal can be heard as he parts his arms, the manacles separating along the weaker stress points, allowing him freedom of movement if not total release from the iron bracelets around his wrists.

Leaning onto the wall, resting on one arm and trying to clear his vision and ringing ears. Discovering that the texture under his hand is not that of stone..but wood. A door? Reasoning that this is the cell next to theirs that had that very helpful spoon offering personage in it.

Feeling for a doorhandle or other such and soon finding it, Aaron gets a grip on the door and pulls...Braced..his whole body straining, letting the rage fuel his strength...trying to free the door from its hinges...

Back at the front door...

Gwenh nodded in agreement to whatever he had said and made a gesture to show that she couldn't speak. Drawing her weapon she started around the gaurds side, like she was here to help him, hoping the entire time that was what the man thought, when she was close enough, she thrust her sword into his ribcage and twisted, violently. The guard does fight back (nice Ehosian wives speak Ehosian and don't carry swords), but he has to stop ringing the bell to do so. In a few moments, your superior sword-skills put him down.

Toshiro nodded at Gwenh's fast sword work and answered Cael's admonishment. "They are dealt with now.... and I never did jailbreaks professionally," he retorted. "Perhaps you would like to stay? It is way past time to leave and guests are undoubtedly coming to the dinner bell..."

Cael closed his eyes and swallowed hard as Gwehn plunged her blade into the last guard, almost before he could defend himself. Mourn his flame later, Cael, he rebukes himself. Else the flame of you and your friends will be snuffed, as well.

The immediate threat gone, Cael turns toward the other cell door, intent on releasing the other involuntary inhabitant of these cells, but his former cellmate is already there, wrenching the door from its hinges. If he is that strong, why did he not just free himself earlier? Leaving the puzzling matter for another time, Cael focuses on what else he needs before he flees this place. My gear, and the books. Cael felt almost naked without his armor and walking staff/cudgel, and it would be stupid to flee from this place without the books he risked his life for in the first place. Quckly, Cael looks around. These guardhouses are set up fairly similarly, so the storage room where our stuff should be is... ah, there. Cael hurries over to the other door.

With a wrench of tortured metal and splintering wood, the door springs free of its set home in the stone and mortar of the wall. Blood pulseing through his veins as Aaron focuses his rage through the media of flesh, muscle and bone. The sudden freeing of the door sending him staggering back into the opposing wall with a crash. Nearly flattening himself with the solid oak mass of door.

Looking quite the idiot as he peers out from the wrecked portal, a slight cut over one eye from where he boped himself with the wooden mass. The absurdity blunting and soon fizzling his rage. Sliping out from behind the door with an 'I meant to do that' look in eyes and posture.

Squaring his shoulders and giving a nod to the occupant of the now doorless cell, he makes his way over to the room where Cael had just emerged from, bearing equipment. Looking into the matter himself, Aaron quickly spots the only two items of his possesions that really matter. A plain looking sword, leather wraped hilt, sheathed in a plain looking slighty batterd but still cared for leather scabbard. The scabbard tooled with an intricate runic script running almost the length of the sheath. To the trained eye, the design would look somehow incomplete, a story yet to be written.

His other, to him, neccessary item is a saddle bag sized script, also rune decorated. The soft slight click of wood can be heard as what is contained inside the thong tied bag shifts as he hefts it over one shoulder. The shoulder strap going over his head and crossing over his chest, soon to be X'd by the other strap from his sword blade. Settling the hand and a half blade over his shoulder, the hilt sticking up like a cross from the martyrs religion, the steel glinting a strangely tinted green in the light from the torches in the hall.

Catching up his rucksack, also sitting in a corner of the room, containing within his road gear. Bedroll on the bottom of the large canvas bag, a shorter sword rolled into the bedroll. This is what he unsheathes, holding the hilt, blade resting up the length of the back of his arm, the two foot lenth, concealed slightly by the thickness of his muscles.

The canvas bag settled on his right side, the opposite of both Runebag and his swordarm. Being that rarity of left handed bladesman...

He looks around at the various plays of finishing combat and subdual, the sounds of approaching reinforcements echoing slighty in his hearing. Scanning the hall for the nearest exit, the confines not suitng him at all. "We need to be off quickly" he says in his deep tone, "They are going to be mad enough about the door. If we get blood on their nice clean floor I'd imagine that they would be even more severe in punishment than makeing us eat prison food."

Smiling slighty Aaron adds, "Its like I had told the wench Lofthaena. Much more enjoyable is ale in or on the body than wasted on the pavement." Adding still further, "She agreed most heartily." Looking reflective, his eyes danceing merrily with memory, "Bodice strings are much more enjoyable Ale flavored...." Keeping up a steady stream of bantering acolades as he heads to the exits. Eyes amused and warry all in one....

What about those reinforcements the bell summoned?

"Falling Leaf, is it?", Gryppen said pleasantly, pulling out throwing knives from his bandolier. "That's a pleasant name. In case we might somehow perish, Falling Leaf," he added, "you haven't by chance run across a tall, dark-skinned human with a rapier and dressed like a poofter, have you? Calls himself 'The Black Gypsy.'"

Eyeing the approaching guards, 'Leaf whispers back simply, "No."

Happily for her odd moral code, these fellows had their weapons drawn and meant obvious harm to her allies. "Take the front rank," she whispers to Gryppen. "Now." With that, she fans her spikes out into the air, aiming for the rearmost row of guards.

Gryppen nodded with his usual smile, taking two knives in his left hand, and one in his right. Picking his targets, he stepped slightly away from Falling Leaf, giving her room, and threw the first, rapidly following up with the others one at a time.

Gryppen's flight of knives strikes true. Men drop, silently clutching their throats or more noisily clutching other body parts. 'Leaf's soot-blackened spikes give a similar treatment to the front rank of men. Swords drop for pierced hands.

Toshiro, Cael, Gwenh and Aaron exit the prison and hurry to their companions in the alleyway. The guards shout in their general direction, but aren't in any shape to challenge them.

Gwenh does a quick headcount. "Where's -" The voice is low but undeniably female.

"I'm here," Morgan pipes up, still invisible.

"Let's go. Quiet, noisy one," 'Leaf instructs Aaron, who's still enthusiastically describing the time there were the two wenches and the bottle of mead to Toshiro.

Her dark form expertly guides the group from the shadow of the Patriarch's home through many streets and alleys unil she brings them to a close, crowded quarter of the city. After the dizzying run, it's hard to tell if this is the same place Fatima's Rooms for Rent was, but the area has the same dirt-poor lower-class feel to it.

This group has little trouble convincing a pack of neer-do-wells to find a different alley to sleep in. 'Leaf slumps against a building wall, sliding to the ground. "Look disreputable and dangerous, and we should be left alone here for the moment. So... Cael has his books. Someone knows he's here. I think the question is, do you think we can continue the mission given that? In such a situation, my people usually prefer to fade away and strike again when the enemy has become unwary. But, in this case, the longer we wait, more of the Great Forest will be despoiled. I am... unsure of how to proceed."