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Post by elgatocello on Jun 30, 2011 21:34:38 GMT -4
You awaken from a particularly painful slumber to find yourself in an otherwise spartan, windowless room with three sets of bunk beds crammed almost without care within. The flickering, artificial light is enough so that you can see without worrying about things getting lost in the shadows.
Niall, you notice that, of the two other men in the room, neither of them are conscious and probably will not be for some time.
Jessamine, Sibet there is only one other person in your room and you are both equally groggy.
The guard has been kind to none of you. (You are each at 1/2 of your normal HP.)
You both notice that any personal effects, money, and especially weapons and armor, are no longer on your person. (Don't worry! YOU'LL GET THEM BACK EVENTUALLY.)
Outside of the room you have woken up in, you can hear raucous laughter.
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jun 30, 2011 22:04:19 GMT -4
Sibet looks around the room. She was not accustomed to sleeping indoors in rooms so cramped. All those years of paying constables to look the other way and now she ends up on the wrong side of a barred door. Great witch in the east!
Sibet then notices Jessamine and at first is taken aback by her looks. But then she sees that Jessamine looks like she too has been mistreated. The delicacy of Jessamine's looks makes her seem especially vulnerable.
Sibet asks, "Are you hurt?"
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Post by Juniper on Jun 30, 2011 22:20:52 GMT -4
Jessamine wakes up with her mouth dry and head aching. The straw ticking of the mattress beneath her is pricking into her skin and she pulls herself upright, barely moving her head forward in time to avoid hitting it on the low bottom of the bunk above her. A sudden wave of nausea threatens to overwhelm her but now that she is conscious the air is stirring around her. She holds her head up with her eyes closed, face tilted to feel the cool cleanliness of the breeze wafting around her. It has come a long way, she thinks, down narrow corridors to reach her here. The torches gutter as it brushes against them. "Are you hurt?" There is someone else here, but she has no time to move beyond herself. She waves off the question. She doesn't know the answer yet. With feline grace she rises to her feet, only to half collapse again immediately, catching herself against the bunks. She raises a trembling hand to her head, feeling the back of her skull gingerly for the knot she knows must be there - ah, just behind her temple. It is oddly reassuring to feel it, hard and swollen, and she drops her hand back to her side. The nausea has mostly receded, and she checks herself for further damage as Deepthunder taught her, moving with rapidly returning facility from one stance to another in the series. Her fingers itch for her sword, and she constantly feels the corrections she must make for its missing weight. Bruises, certainly, but nothing is broken. She whispers to the wind her disdain for the brutality of her captors, no matter the seriousness of the charges against her, and it sweeps a sympathetic eddy down her cheek. Her clothes and body are smudged and dirty, but her head aches too much even to call up the little force necessary to restore the pristine white that Merrilee had been so proud to send her out in. It is enough. She is whole, and will recover, and surely when she explains she did not take the cup and plate she had tried to sell they will return her spellbook and her sword. Until then her palms will just have to itch. She turns suddenly, having forgotten the other occupant of the cell, and directs a shy but sympathetic smile somewhere in the direction of her companion's left ear. It occurs to her that she might have been locked in here with someone dangerous, but she has spent most of the past seven years surrounded by dangerous people and there are some things she quite easily forgets to worry about. "Hello," she murmurs, just enough breath for the words to reach across the room, and no more, blithely unaware that ten minutes have probably passed since the woman first spoke. "I am Jessamine West, and I think I am all right." |
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jun 30, 2011 22:51:43 GMT -4
Sibet looks at Jessamine the way she might when observing something in the forest. She is hurt and nauseated but she knows she will be alright. She is off balance-she must be missing something, most likely a weapon. This sidetracks Sibet into remembering that she too was missing her mace and daggers. And her shield-that was dear money she spent on that.
She takes a deep breath. That cannot be helped now. Concentrate on the scene at hand.
And then she sees it again. A movement in the air-how could that be? Sibet feels a quick wave of envy for the touch of a breeze but brings herself again to the present.
"Jessamine West, i am pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Sibet. I think you are alright too-at least physically. What brought you here, or me for that matter, may not be so easily mended."
Sibet walks to the door and yells in the direction of the raucous laughter. "Oh for the sake of the 23 servants, can't one of you bring some water? If she throws up, i'll make sure she does it on a sluggard guard!"
Sibet looks at Jessamine and winks.
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Post by elgatocello on Jun 30, 2011 23:01:13 GMT -4
A man looks up from his bowl of mealy gruel and jeers at the man the Ranger chastised.
"Hey Brunno, you gonna take that from a girl?"
The man, dressed slightly less shabbily than the rest, dipped a bowl into a pot of grimy water and walked it over and hands it to her warmly.
"Hello. My name is Brunno. I'm actually a prisoner here myself. As long as you don't get in their way, the guards aren't THAT terrible..."
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jun 30, 2011 23:21:57 GMT -4
Sibet smiles at Brunno broadly with just a touch of mischief.
"Thank you Brunno. I like to appreciate kindness and hope to reciprocate." She looks him over then meets his eyes and laughs brightly. She bends her head just slightly to him and takes the bowl.
She turns back to Jessamine and takes a small sip of the water to make sure it won't do more harm than good and hands it to Jessamine hoping to catch just a bit of that odd breeze.
"This may make it hurt a little more but in the long run will do you good."
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Post by Juniper on Jun 30, 2011 23:33:02 GMT -4
Jessamine takes the bowl from Sibet, wishing she had the confidence to get people to react to her like that. One of her breezes traces curiously down her arm, curling around Sibet's hand for a moment before returning to move against her hair and peek out from just under her ear. "Really, I don't think I would have gotten sick, and surely not on anyone. But thank you."
She raises the bowl to Brunno for just a moment before taking a careful sip and then a longer draught, her eyes lifting almost to the level of his chin. She throws her glance sidelong at Sibet, who is somehow still flirting with the other prisoner without speaking, and retreats in confusion. Her leathers are gone and her clothes dirty, so with a sigh she moistens a corner of her tunic in the water and cleans her face as best she can, unaware that her work is only leaving her white face paler and more strange, especially with her breeze moving her equally white hair in random tangled patterns.
She offers the bowl, half-empty, back to Sibet. "You could use it as well, I think," she murmurs.
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Post by irishmagician on Jul 1, 2011 0:13:02 GMT -4
Just are those with calmness and serenity....
Niall is angry. His large fingers working slowly over a worn set of prayer beads his captors had been generous to overlook, the soft clacking sound of wooden beads did little to soothe his irritation. A dribble of blood seeps from a corner of his mouth, and a red rage seeps across his vision. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and wipes his mouth; the priests said to never let that happen again, he thought to himself. It took him a week to clean up that mess...
Just are those who carry out the word of law...
Niall is angry. The towering man kneels in his cell, rocking slightly back and forth in prayer. Conflicted thoughts race through his mind as he recites the tenants. My cause is just and true, he thinks. I am a servant of justice! But to resist and escape would oppose the word of law in this town, which is to oppose justice of this town. How can justice oppose justice, truth oppose truth? How can one overcome such a dilemma? His mind races.
Just are those who lay low ones who spread falsehood...
The sound of clacking beads continue...
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Post by elgatocello on Jul 1, 2011 10:53:44 GMT -4
BONG BONG BONG The sound of a spoon hitting the bars on the door of Niall's cell ring out.
A man standing in the threshold calls out to him in a heavily accented voice. "Hey you! Youze want some grub? If not, they's people out here who wants more."
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Post by irishmagician on Jul 1, 2011 11:39:52 GMT -4
BONG, BONG, BONG
The sound pierces straight through the frantic veil of peace that Niall had been weaving. The clacking sound of the prayer beads stop abruptly as he stands, his head brushing slightly against the roof of the cell. Quietly, he approaches the barred threshold of the cell, to stand in front of the guard. Towering over him, Niall stares down passively at the man, saying nothing for a few moments; the hand holding the beads now furiously working over them, as his other hand is clenched tightly.
(Intimidate = [dice=20]+9)
Eventually, he speaks; the calm manner of his tone doing little to soften the rough, booming sound of his voice.
"Food and drink would be appreciated."[rand=96891995986330850545944075230814540461739617025403762758076638]
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Post by elgatocello on Jul 1, 2011 11:42:08 GMT -4
The man sets the entire tray of food down in front of Niall and backs up slowly.
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Post by irishmagician on Jul 1, 2011 17:06:17 GMT -4
Niall continues to stare at the guard until he leaves, then picks up the tray. Bending down, he manages to catch a glimpse of the cells further down the hallway. Two women flicker into his field of vision, one almost pale as snow and the other talking animatedly with someone. Straightening, they recede from view.
Wrapping his prayer beads about his wrist, he rests on the ground next to the cell door and begins to eat.
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jul 3, 2011 14:39:08 GMT -4
Sibet takes the bowl and bows her head slightly toward Jessamine and the odd little breeze. I felt it-like a tiny creature. How i miss my woods.
Concentrate on the task at hand.
She closes her eyes, stops for a second saying something to herself, and takes a deep draw of water. It washes her mouth and the inside of her body immediately feels the kindness of the liquid. She smiles at Brunno.
"Hey you! Youze want some grub? If not, they's people out here who wants more."
Sibet cocks her head to one side and asks Brunno, " Is that for us too?" And before he can respond she asks, "How many are here and where exactly are we?"
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Post by elgatocello on Jul 3, 2011 16:20:13 GMT -4
Sibet cocks her head to one side and asks Brunno, " Is that for us too?" And before he can respond she asks, "How many are here and where exactly are we?"
"You're...in the Acaidan prison." Brunno scratches his head, curious as to how you wouldn't know this.
"...You know, right below the big Colosseum?"
"As for how many are here...I think it's at about five hundred?"
Brunno turns around.
"As for the food, you should probably get some at your own risk. I've never seen Caleb back away like that...he's as tough as he acts, so whoever is in there must be half-gnoll or something..."
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Post by comicsans12pt on Jul 3, 2011 21:19:51 GMT -4
"We should be safe enough here."
I turn to Jessamine and ask her if she thinks she could eat. I mention that i think better having eaten and turn to Brunno.
"How do we ask for it?" I make a mental note to remember to ask why he is here and how long he will be here.
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