Fable - Ask Burnt Pages [KoA]

[Stella]

The the fated recipient:

I know not who this missive may reach, but I pray for a compassionate soul.

My home and haven of thirty years has come under siege by an errant clan of creatures from the north. They have taken most everything of value and destroyed that which they left behind - I, who have peacefully guarded this place for decades, am no warrior and was not able to repel them. I have withdrawn into the depths of the catacombs below with my most valued possessions. I fear my home will soon become my grave as everyday their marching shifts the stone foundations a little more.

I beg of you, dear reader, help me in this plight. I have nothing to repay you with, for this horde has taken everything, but you may consider me forever in your debt and I will endeavor to make this venture worth your while.

This sparrow will lead you to my home and the creatures that plague it now, where the mountains join at Palercross Point and the Ruin of Castle Farlorn.

~ Lady Stellaerys

-Ruin of Castle Farlorn-

 

[Roki]

He hadn't found the sparrow. But he had heard the poor thing had nearly been taken by a hawk.

Sharp eyed Syr Marrowund had seen it being chased. Scared the hawk off with an eagle's cry she did. Least, that's what the other squires said around the Knoll. Not that it mattered much. He was still the one put to researching Castle Farlorn.

Hours and hours of studying maps of Palecross Point. It was maddening really. Looking at all the little smudges and smears and scratches that could have meant, well just about anything. Maps, like books, were writ by hand. Or, at least a mind that could wield magick to wield the pen. Judicious as one tried to be, mistakes were made, errors occurred. Fallibility spread. It was something the squire tried to always keep in his own mind. Fallible as it was.

Still. He had found the schematics, deep in their archives. Squeezed between the pages of a tome on Tunnel and Mining Networks of the Spine by one Syr Grangut Coalbeard. He would've said he pitied the bastard, but, the way the words read. Just thinking about it made him laugh.

"Well, shit," Syr Sando muttered as he came to a stop in the old mining tunnel, stared blankly at the split in the path, and the two equally dark and damp maws. Looked down at the map they had their scribes recreate. "Uh..." his voice carried in the dark tunnel, and he squint his eyes as he looked closer at the parchment, the werelight of flame glowing softly over his shoulder.

Roki nudged Innis with a stiff elbow, and nudged his head foreword. "Go on, you are a good tracker, right?"

 

[Innis]

Innis had been silent most of the trip. She was more in her own thoughts than usual, and even the sweet cheeping of the little messenger sparrow couldn't cheer her up. The thing sat on her shoulder now, unable to fly in the cramped tunnels. The letter had said it would lead them to where they needed to go. She wondered what sort of person Lady Stellaerys would turn out to be, and what her home might look like. But most of all, she worried about the hordes of enemies that they might have to face, and she thought about having to draw her sword again.

With a nudge of his elbow, Roki pulled her out of the miserable thought.

"Right," Innis said flatly. "Syr Sando, can I see the map?" She asked.

Sando handed her the map. "Sure, your guess is as good as mine," he said.

She didn't answer, instead peered at the complicated scrawl in the dimly magicked light. The old Innis would have cheerfully and thoroughly explained how dwarven mining maps included the narrow air shafts used for ventilation, where human maps usually didn't bother. There was also a ton of extra notations - hash marks for a patch of slippery shale in the bedrock, lines drawn diagonally to indicate slope, tunnels layered on top of one another to show depth. All of it made for a confusing, but informative read.

Chatting about stuff like that seemed pretty trite, now.

Innis pointed down the right path. "Its that way," she said, and started walking that direction. "Should spit us out right underneath Castle Farlorn."

Except, the map was super old. They didn't get too much further before the tunnel opened up to misty rain and overcast sky. A jagged cave-in, with the other end of the passage covered by rubble. Moss covered the exposed underground, dripping down in long wet strands from the open mouth of the tunnel.

"Huh," Innis said, looking up at the cloud cover. "We're not supposed to surface yet. The erosion in this region must be worse than Syr Coalbeard predicted..."

Syr Sando lifted his cap and rubbed the damp blond hair on his brow. "Well, so much for a stealthy approach. Let me go first and take a look around, you lot sit tight till ya hear my signal." The older knight was already jumping up onto a mossy boulder, as he climbed back up to the surface.

Roki Stella

 

[Lorinna Astarel]

A Lady trapped in a tower, under siege from dark forces. It sounded like a good tale. Although she was in the catacombs. And this didn't seem like a magical anything. An old tunnel and out into what seemed to be ruins.

Lorinna wasn't here to read maps, scout ahead of the group or track monsters. She was here because six feet of muscle wrapped in exceptionally expensive plate and carrying several years of dedicated training in the art of the blade was was the group needed to deal with less exciting concerns.

Concerns like 'Oh I wish we had someone here to cut that orc to ribbons so we can free the princess.'

With all the magical talent of a worn brick, Lorinna had been focused on her specific training.

For now it left her able to offer little more than: "I wonder what treasure this horde stole?"

 

[Stella]

The horde in question was still very much present, though in lesser numbers than when the missive had originally flown. Despite appearing as a motley crew of mismatched vagabonds and outriders, there was enough muscle lingering around to pose a threat to any rescue attempt. Northern orcs made up the bulk of the populace, their hides a dull green-gray and mottled with battle scars. The mark of the Akon'ra War Party painted armor and shields. Somewhere among the mass of rubble and scattered invaders a tattered flag tiredly swayed in the breeze.

Distantly from their position, a spire of smoke pierced the overcast sky. As Syr Sando climbed his way upwards, he'd spy the bonfire at the base of the ruin settled among the camp, spewing forth ashen grey with great fervor.


Below the ruins a set of pale, luminous eyes peered out through the darkness, watching as members of the horde picked their way down through a great open shaft along crumbled stone spiral stairs the circuited the perimeter. She'd been safe down here thus far and had hoped they would grow bored of finding very little of value on the surface and move on. Seemed their leader wasn't yet convinced they'd overturned every stone.

 

[Roki]

Syr Sando returned, his easy smile no less warm despite his shortness of breath. "Whelp, they are definitely still about," he said and hopped a squat on a stone. His hands pulled a stick from neath his cloak, and he started tracing a rough map into the dirt.

"Roki, some soft light, if you would,"

Roki snapped his fingers, and a tiny red flame sparked near the earth, duller than a candle flame, but still enough to help raise shadows round the confident lines Syr Sando scratched into the earth.

"Thank ya," The walls he could still see standing, hash marks. "These are entry points, rubble and collapsed masonry," he went on, a small x with waving lines above it. "Bonfire, got a whole bunch of them crowdin around that," Sand looked to Roki with a smile. "Yer good with fire, right kid?"

Roki puffed up some, his proud tusks showed more with his smile. "Come on now, Syr,"

Sando huffed a laugh and looked to Innis and Lori. "Roki and I will pull the band's attention out of the keep. Loud and flashy like, you two will follow our tiny friend here, and get the Lady out, good?" Syr Sando looked to the young knights prospective. Each at the cusp of their vows. Each exemplary in their own right. He nodded, to assure himself as much as them, and let the stick down, grabbed up his pack and started unbundling his short bow and arrows. "If you got questions, you best ask, better planned means better run," the old sworn strung his bow with practiced efficiency.

Roki let out a long cool breath, looked to Innis and Lori and turn. They could do this. Right?

 

[Innis]

Syr Sando came back in one piece, glissading down the rubble in an easy way. He reported on what he'd seen, quickly putting together a plan. The bird on Innis' shoulder cheeped determinedly when Syr Sando mentioned its role in the rescue, as if it understood his words.

The plan made sense. Innis assumed she was being sent to find the Lady because the bird liked her for some reason, and Lori was coming with because Innis still couldn't hold a sword for more than about ten minutes without getting tired. Under Syr Dejan's instructions, she was starting to get pretty dangerous in those ten minutes, at least.

"Did you get a good look at who they are?" Innis asked after the older knight prompted for questions.

Syr Sando scratched the scruff on chin. "Hm. Looked like a warband from the Akon'ra tribe, maybe?"

Orcs. Innis smoothed out her tense throat with a swallow. She couldn't help but glance at Roki, who she found looking back with those warm, golden eyes of his. Well, if they did this quietly enough, they wouldn't have to encounter anyone directly.

That was not a hope she believed in anymore.

 

[Lorinna Astarel]

"A whole warband? You're going to draw them far away? If they've been searching for Lady Staellaris all this time and not found her. I can't outrun orcs on foot."

Lorinna felt her right hand clench, as if holding her sword. She didn't like the idea of being so exposed.

They had been taught lots of ways to fight orcs. They could be drawn onto an open field of battle by an army and dealt with by heavy infantry supported by archers and shock cavalry. They could be forced into tight spaces using terrain or buildings. The last place you wanted to face them was in open ground, in a skirmish between small groups.

 

[Roki]

Upon hearing the name of the tribe, Roki got lost in his thoughts.

"Hmm, right, maybe i've been hanging out with the Pursuants a bit too long," Sando said with a half laugh. "Let's think," he added, and tapped his chin some with a gloved finger.

"I think I have an idea," Roki said with a bright eyed mischief there in the gold of his eye.

---

It was meticulous work. Hiding from the warband's patrols and perimeter guards beneath. Lot of skulking and belly crawling, and a bit of low clinging mist helped things too. The overcast sky made it all the more miserable, but the weird grey light kept the air cold, and helped the darkness crawl across the cold mountainside all the quicker.

Lucky for Roki, he had the same eyes they did. Could see just as far in the cover of growing darkness, and didn't have the blaze of torchlights and bonfire messing with his perception, with only his long wooden staff to slow him down.

Syr Sando would break from his side, and whistle a bird call when he was in position, but Roki was still busy working the soft white chalk of his limestone piece in careful runes across a perimeter around him. A faerie circle made of elemental runes.

The signs of wind and flame ,and star light. A sign for each moon, a sign for the sun. The circle came finished with a clean scrape, and upon a distant stone, he sat. He could still see the great tongue for fire, licking at the air in the distance, but made sure his terrain helped obscure him as he sat within the runic circle and folded his legs beneath him. Close his eyes, and held his staff before him, stirring the air about him gently as he fell into his breathing.

Minutes bled by. The cold that gripped his flesh burned away by the spirit of fire he held inside his chest and called forth now. With his mind, he traced a line across the field of craggy stone. Like a spider's silk, it anchored to the distant flame.

The fire hissed and grew larger, grew greater as golden sparks of light dazzled and popped up like fat embers let loose from the burn of the fuel. Higher and hotter the fire grew until a great dragon's head emerged, rose up and out of the flame like a winding serpent, lined in fire it towered over the warband and their camp, and spread its emberic wings as it loomed.

Many stared in awe, some fell to the ground in fear, for they remembered the dragon god that had burned distant Bhathairk, and all the other great lizards that lived along the Spine.

It was a trick of course. An illusion woven with fire and wind and shimmering light. Like a puppet, thin as paper. It would hardly burn any it passed through. But it was no attack. For Roki had learned that many Northern Ork tribes paid some form of reference to dragons. Symbols of natures unyielding strength.

Many more chased after them in hopes of finding their horde.

"Ye worthy, come, and win my trove," came a voice that boomed and hissed like thunder and lightning. The illusory dragon began to snake away, began to trail off into the thick fog. And surely, some followed. Roki only hoped many and more followed after.

 

[Innis]

Syr Sando had made skipping silently across the rocks look so easy! In reality the climb up was wet, and slimy, and full of loose scree. If it weren't for the little sparrow, Innis would have lost her footing and broken her ankle, she was sure. But the bird guided them dutifully, flitting through the air in short bursts, landing on mossy rocks and ruined walls, waiting for them to catch up.

They kept their distance all the while, approaching the ruins in a roundabout way, to avoid the scatterings of brigands that drifted here and there apart from the main group. Soon they were in position, and then it was just a matter of waiting...

A masked call from Syr Sando rang out high and clear, indicating things were going according to plan. Then, a few minutes after, the bonfire many of the orcs had gathered around burst upwards in a spark of magic, the ghostly form of a dragon burning over their heads.

"That's the signal," Innis whispered to Lorinna. Her voice was magicked to not travel far, and the spell left a buzzing feeling in her throat. "Let's go."

The sparrow seemed to understand that it was time to move again, too. It flew deeper in, to the heart of the ruins, taking them down a narrow, roofless hall that must have once been lined with tapestries and rich carpets, but now felt cold and stifling. At the end of the hall, an open swatch of cobbled land, and at its center a wide shaft dug deeper into the underground part of the castle.

The sparrow tucked its tiny wings against its body and dove straight down the spiraling shaft. Surely it didn't want them to follow into that big, exposed hole with only one exit? It might as well be asking them to step neatly into their graves.

On soft leather soles, Innis crept as close as she dared, crouching in the midst of a mostly ruined wall. Spiraling stairs cut their way in wide circles down the shaft. The bottom floor was past the field of her vision. But about halfway, a band of four orcs clamored down, torches lit and weapons drawn. One little goblin seemed to be leading, their big ears bouncing as they went down the steps.

"Guess we just have to barrel through." Innis frowned at their dour odds. She had no idea how long Roki's distraction was going to work... if they were going to make a break for it, this would be their only chance. She glanced at Lori. "Hey, at least we'll have the high ground?"

No. Bad joke. Innis looked away, suddenly sobering up, her gaze hardening into the distance. Thankfully, the angle of descent meant that the orcs shouldn't notice the two squires until they were nearly on top of them.

"The goblin's got magic," she said. "Won't know what kind until we get closer. Leave that one to me."

Then, she jumped the crumbling wall, and made a run for to the stair's landing.

Lorinna Astarel Stella Roki

 

[Lorinna Astarel]

Lorinna wore a heavy hooded black cloak. It kept her armour from catching the light and making them too obvious to any scouts. She silently reflected that she probably hadn't been the best choice for this mission.

The others seemed to just know so much. They knew how to travel and survive in the wilds, could conjure illusions to scatter an entire warband and even recognise a magically inclined goblin.

It was almost easier and more reassuring for her to have the enemy ahead and a sword in her hand. The stairs curved the right way to give her the advantage with sword in right hand. There was just enough width for two orcs to come at her. The biggest risk was being thrown from the edge by them. That the comment on the high ground had been a joke sailed right over her head.

Only a handful of steps were enough for the orcs to hear her armour moving. They turned to meet them head on. Long legs carried them up the stairs two at a time.

Lorinna stopped, holding her ground. She held the blade of her sword in her left hand, tip pointing down. As they approached she caught them off stride by taking a single step down and thrusting straight down.

The blade glanced off the head of an orc, splitting skin but only opening a superficial wound. As the other brough a heavy axe back ready to swing, she had to retreat one step to avoid it.

 

[Stella]

Though stone the steps were, beneath the fresh weight and movement of so many feet, the stairwell shifted and rumbled - threatening something far worse should care not be taken. Far below the effects were more apparent. As she moved away from the opening of the stairwell and deeper into the catacombs beneath the ruin, Stella felt the earth trembling beneath her, heard the deep and groaning shudder of the walls above her, and shied from the debris and stone dust that fell from above.

There was no escape for her this way, she knew this the moment she'd taken the opening into the tunnel, but escape was not her essential plan. No, she was here, in the dark, to hide for as long as she could.

So she continued on, the weight of the locked chest in her grips the only sole reminder of why it was so important not to be found, and picked up the pace.

Back in the stairwell that magic goblin exclaimed some rather unbecoming words at the intruders in their midst and issued an explosive ball of magic toward the strangers. It hit the wall just above Roki's head and sent a blast of stone and dirt down upon them.

The ruin rumbled in protest.

 

[Roki]

Roki let out a long breath, his magick energies still swirling about him, the runes etched upon the stone still aglow. Feint as they may be, and mist laden as the air was, his only hope was that the scouts didn't see him.

Fat chance at that.

Adrift in the currents of the world's magick as he was, feeling through the wind, and the earth and the water and flame, he sensed the goblin pull the arcane to him, just as much as the half-pint magus might have sensed him. His golden eyes came open, and he saw the searing ball of gold and orange streak toward him in languid arch, hissing as it ate away the mist.

"Shit!" he cried out, and pealed off of his runed circle of communion. The fireball crashed something fierce against the stone wall behind him, a wash of gold and red and orange swirled all about. Licked green at the fine fabrics of Roki's robes.

But he had managed to dive out of the way, his elmwood staff used to catch his fall from his high up perch, its length bent, but he had dug it into the rocky floor at just the right angle, kicked off the wall and sprung the energy out in a wide arc. It sent him flying over the pit and the stairwell with huge eyes.

His lungs filling with breath as he sailed over certain death, legs kicked forward as the whole length of him tried to reach out to the other side of the descending staircase.

 

[Innis]

Somehow, Lorinna overtook her with that long stride and cold, purposeful gaze of hers. Damn, was Innis already falling behind, before anything even got started? Of course she was. She'd heard that lately Lorinna and Hector had been going out on quests with all the acting power of Knight Sworn. And where had Innis been - stuck babysitting, or being babysat by a Pursuant.

No, now was not the time to get jealous. She had to focus on what she was good at.

Innis gripped Lorinna on the shoulder as the bigger squire stepped back, mostly to avoid being stepped on. She swung an arm up over her head, and a thin film of magick followed, shielding the both of them. Debris crumbled down from above, fat bricks and dusty mortar plinking off Innis' barrier and falling to the depths below. And spirits alive, what depths they were! Even the orcs seemed nervous of the edge.

The goblin was raising its hands and cursing again, getting ready to lob another ball of fire at them.

Scowling, Innis let go of the shield and put her energy into her breath. She closed her eyes, relying on Lorinna to hold the line. Loch wasn't just water and ice. It was the thin webbing of psyche that stuck everything together. And things could come apart, too, if she found the right thread to pull...

Below them, the goblin 'mancer let out a shriek, the fire that he'd been building up fizzling out into useless green crackle.

Lorinna Astarel Hector Stella

 

[Roki]

The stone wall came quick, his legs bent to absorb the crash, and as soon as his feet planted, and he felt the pull of gravity, he realized he wasn't on a wall at all. But the side of the staircase, with nothing below to catch his fall save the bleak darkness.

Good thing he had taken in that big breath.

Bloated like a puffed up toad, Roki let out a stormwind of a breath from pursed lips. The jetstream of air shot his weight up so he flung like a pendulum, his foot the anchor point against the wall as his head arced up and up and he stretched a desperate hand out to grab the lip of the stairs.

Strong gripped, he was able to hold with just the tips of his fingers. Wiry strength held him up, his feet scrabbling against the brick wall to find a good toehold with searching scrapes of his boots. His whole torso seemed to suck itself to the rock wall, and in a desperate gambit, he flung is other hand up, staff still in his grip.

A bit of momentum, and the downstep, saw his staff hand find purchase. His weight spread across the long hardwood, he spidered his way up.

Felt his eyes huge with adrenaline, heard Lori up the flight knocking against enemies with steel, take blows against her plate armor.

He tried to catch his breath, but the gobo-mancer was upon him, snarling as it brought its clubbish staff down at Roki, who through himself back, and found himself painfully rolling down a couple steps. Tucked and tumbling with some control. But stone still bloody damn hurt.

The squire popped up, saw the goblin stirring his staff and canting some new threat.

Roki used his fingers to sign seals that showed as feint glyphs before his centered hand as he drew in breath. With a quick thrust of his palm, and a hard breath out, a gust of wind slammed into the goblin, and knocked him to the ground.

Stella Innis Lorinna Astarel

 

[Lorinna Astarel]

"Please keep that goblin busy," Lorinna grunted.

They trained to fight beasts of various sizes and statures. It wasn't preparation for having an orc throw it's entire bulk behind a swing.

Normally she had confidence in her armour, but not here. At the right angle that axe was going to split even her cortosi steel.

Lorinna pretended to raise her sword for a swipe. Instead she kicked out. Her boot caught an orc square in the nose.

He stumbled back, flailing out with both arms. Blinded, disoriented and bleeded, the orc found purchase on the leather vest of his ally. He slipped and two orcs went tumbling away.

That evened the odds.

 

[Innis]

Please keep that goblin busy.

Lorinna was probably not chiding her. Just giving orders. But the comment still had Innis' expression sour. "I can do more than that," she responded back darkly.

Two more bruisers were barreling up the steps to replace the orcs that Lorinna had kicked over the edge. Muttering the key words under her breath, Innis twitched her fingers. A chill went through the air, and the stone steps at the orc's feet got slick with frost. One slipped with a startled grunt, cracking his nose on the stairs. The other only stumbled, and as he flailed to get his balance back, Innis ducked low and bounded past Lori. She stepped on the back of the fallen orc, leapt off him.

Steel glinted as Innis drew her sword and raise it high above her head. Yelling the breath out of her lungs, she brought all that force down on the goblin, still on his ass. The goblin yelled back and raised his staff to block the blade.

Her sword took a chip out of the wood, and bounced away.

Feet grinding in the dust, Innis changed the momentum of the impact and brought the blade under her control. Let the sharp edge shift and countered with an undercut. The goblin shrieked, staff clattering from his hands. A line of blood dripped down one forearm.

The goblin's cheeks puffed up. Heat emanated from a rune that formed between his furrowed brows, simple in its meaning: Fire.

Oh no, that wasn't good—!

Lorinna Astarel Hector Stella

 

[Stella]

The rumbling returned, only this time much closer. Beyond and above, the ensuing fight had awakened the foundations of the ruin, reminding the slumbering elder just how fragile it was. Upon finding her way blocked by crumbled stone and earth, Stella looked up as the remaining structure threatened to bury her alive.

This was not the ending she had hoped for and not the fate deserved for the precious cargo in her hold. Though it terrified her to do so, she turned and began retracing the path that brought her there, heading toward the light of the stone stairwell.

Beneath her, the once polished stone floor shuddered. Above her, the arches began to drop. She quickened her pace as the sound of impending doom rose up at her back in the sudden and inevitable collapse began to give chase to her retreat.

The rumbling grew ever greater, the ruin convulsing in its final death throes. No more would it continue to be a remnant of the great citadel that once stood, but a buckled and muddled pile of stone and debris to be taken over by dirt and green. In the stairwell the stone steps relinquished themselves under the feet of the interlopers. The goblin, amidst his fervor to fight, was the first to fall with a great screech of shock and a sudden blast of flames that licked at the brows of the young warrior Innis

Further beneath, the well began its collapse with a great thunderous yawn.

And from the depths of the well a sudden, rushing gust of glimmering air blasted upward and into the sky.

 

[Melfa]

A most unfortunate disagreement with the Chief of the Akon'ra Warband resulted in one curious prisoner amidst the ruin and growing mounds of stone rubble. Melfa was certainly no Lady, but no less in need of a swift rescue lest she find herself flattened by the walls presently collapsing around her.

Placed in a pit cell not far from the stairwell, she watched as the remnants of the towering walls above began to fold in upon themselves. If they fell over the iron gridwork that trapped her below, she would certainly die here.

So she did what any desperate prisoner would: she began to yell for help - loudly.

 

[Roki]

Lorinna shout something out over the din. The rumble of the rock shakin up through the floor and the clash and clatter of metal made it hard to hear. The goblin was up, casting some spell, a sign of fire. Roki's eyes went wide. A howl cried out from down below. The crunch and grind of stone. A surge of wind

All the staircase seemed to shake beneath him again. It took all his skill and balance just to stay standing as the rumble grew louder. The stones shook all the more. The ground beneath the goblin gave out the pyromancer fell down into the dark and a body of glittering wind blew up and out of the crumbling well, and all breath left his lungs.

Whatever that was. He felt it. Surge fast and away. A wonder that panged deep down in his heart.

But the shake of the tower. The rumble and roar of the stones, it forced him back to the danger at hand. To the cries of help that came from below.

Roki's eyes looked down, saw the crude glint of dark iron, catch the light. Saw eyes looking back at him. Well. Maybe that was their lady.

He huffed, ran down the stairs.

Stones gave way under foot, and it was only a quick wind step, sealed with his fingers, he skate to a stop near the grate, dust clouds swirling about his boots.

"My lady!" he shout. "Are, are you ok?!" he jammed his staff into the grate and tried his best to lever it out. Breath sucked into his lungs, cheeks puffed out, he pushed down with all his might- which to be fair wasn't quite that much, he was more magickly inclined than physically- but the grate barely budged.

"Shit," he cursed. "Hey! Hey! I NEED SOME HELP!" he called out to his fellow squires as stone crumbled and fell and crashed about him. He yelped as he dodged one particularly large brick.

Lorinna Astarel Melfa Innis

 

[Lorinna Astarel]

The idea of being buried alive in these ruins caused Lorinna physical pain. It sat heavy at the back of her chest.

She couldn't allow it to stop her. A death was a death. Logically it was no worse than being crushed by a giant. With colleagues around her, she could press on.

"Stand back!" She shouted to Roki.

Lorinna kept a compact one-handed poleaxe for dealing with armour. The sharp spike was perfect for a lock.

She wasted no time in hammering at the lock. On the sixth strike it popped free.

Lorinna stepped back, for the first time truly considering who - or what - she had set free.

 

[Innis]

The old stairs groaned out their last remnants of life as the ruins came crumbling down around them. The goblin in front of Innis met a gruesome end, crushed under a falling stone slab even as his last spell exploded around him.

Innis lost her hat as she stumbled backwards on the steps, the heat of the fire scalding her cheeks. She didn't have time to think about the pain, as the stone slab bit through the chunk of staircase in front of her. On hands and knees, she scrambled down to a more stable stretch, and then bounded as fast as her legs could carry her to where her companions struggled down below.

Not that this was a safer place to be. But Innis was definitely not going to be the squire that got away and left her friends to die.

As Lori broke open the grate, Innis raised her hands and put a barrier of lochlight up above their heads. She could stretch it wide enough to cover the three of them - now four, who was that in the dark of the chamber, anyway? - but with the magic spread so thin she wouldn't be able to hold the protective spell for very long.

"We need to find another way out of here," she shouted above the din. That was probably on everyone's mind already, but it was difficult to think of something clever to say in a situation like this.

 

[Melfa]

Was she ok? Melfa looked down at herself and wobbled a shrugging nod.

"Am fine," she replied to the orc above and then as an afterthought looked around her cell, "no lady."

That point wasn't quite so concerning as the fact that the boy above seemed incapable of breaking her out. Melfa's upbringing did not allow her to arrive at death's door ... or iron grate, as it were ... afraid. Though that didn't keep her from being prickly about this particular arrival, stuck in the ground to starve rather than going out in a blaze of glorious bloodsport or sexually sated in a bed of hotrocks.

Then a beast of a woman appeared above, taking charge of the situation and began wailing on the oversized padlock that sealed her fate down here. With the sound of metal ringing against metal, Melfa backed away with a cringe until that final blow loudly cracked it free. The komodo shook her head free of the remnant ringing in her ears and moved forward to scale the stone wall. Grasping at the iron grid, she kicked her boots off the wall and swung them upward into the gate, bursting it open from beneath with a loud clanging.

With a grunt, the komodo climbed out, her horns hitting the underside of Innis' magic bubble shield with a spark of energy, but her attention was elsewhere.

She eyed the female Knight with unabashed interest - then a large piece of stone structure smashed itself onto the shield above them, causing even Melfa to startle.

"Must climb," Melfa said to the others, pointing a clawed digit upwards, "only way. Melfa go first."

 

[Roki]

"That's, that's good!" Roki said between blinks, staring up at the towering Melfa.

The crack of stone, and the rumble of the walls broke his wide eyed stare, blue flash brought his eyes up further as her proud horns sparked against Innis' shield.

The mysterious woman they had freed urged they climb, even offered to take the lead.

Falling rocks. Crumbling brick.

"Slow and steady then?" He asked the others. Looked to Lori, then Innis, jaw set firm.

A slab of wall broke away from on high, the crack a low rumble. Roki's eyes widened at the sight of stone in free fall.

His lungs filled with the dust-thick air, foot slid out as his body wound back. Air gathered round him like cyclone. He Snapped forward with a sweep of his open palm. A torrent of wind blast forward. Knocked against the slab of stone, slowed it some, broke it up into sperate pieces that cracked and tumbled against the walls, breaking holes in the structure here and there as they crashed down at them and the glittering blue shield.

 

[Innis]

Grunting, Innis struggled to hold her arms up as a particularly large piece of rubble crashed against her shield. Lochlight was very good at deflecting magic and arrows and other little, fast moving things. Not so much big, heavy boulders.

The good news was that whoever they had just rescued seemed fine, and also didn't look like she wanted to hurt them. Innis only shot a glance at the horned woman before putting all her focus back into the shield.

"Not too slow," she replied to Roki. "This is a lot harder to keep up than it looks!"

Just then another big slab came rumbling down the side of the once-staircase. Innis shifted the palms of her hands to face the falling chunk, as if she were going to catch it. The blue of the shield got more opaque, shimmering like water. As she did so, Roki moved at the same time.

One big piece became lots of little pieces, cracked by the fearsome wind he conjured. The broke further apart on Innis' strengthened shield. Good! Innis thought, but her teeth were grit too hard to actually say it. She took one step forward, then another. Towards a flight of stairs that still remained intact, going up.

Once those stairs ran out, she wasn't sure how they were going to manage the climb.