Villains and Monsters III ((IC))

[Logain]

The sun rose over the Empire, over the entire world, for indeed, the Empire stretched to the ends of explored lands. The sun rose, turning the sky that unique shade of pink that only dawn brings, and as the sun rose higher in the sky, the blue replaced the pinks and oranges that had lit the darkness.

As the sun crested over the horizon, the capital city of the Empire came to life. The city of Vespera had been carved from the very earth with magic, and buildings stood in grandest splendor, some hundreds of feet tall. In the center of the city stood the Empress’ Palace, a massive pyramid made from seamless gray granite. Steps were carved into each side, and petitioners could enter at the first floor, seeking the Empress for her advice and declarations.

As petitioners entered the ground floor, they would be amazed at the statue work within the entrance. Hundreds of different monsters, depicted in positions of the utmost horror, depicted in such lifelike detail that you could almost expect them to draw breath, to come to life. Among the statues stood many of the Imperial Guard, mostly minotaurs, the personal guard selected by Lord Garth to protect the Empress. They were distinct among the army, with a white sash worn over their blue armor. The minotaur stood motionless, but fewer petitioners feared their wrath than they did the Empress they had come to petition. For all of those statues were no testament to a master craftsman, but a fitting tribute to the rage of the Empress, a mighty medusa who turned creatures to stone on a whim. The capital city was named for her, and all of the length and breadth of the Empire feared her, but standing near the end of the entryway, there was a statue of the one whom all truly feared.

A craftsman had made a simple bronze statue of the Emperor. Seated, with wings folded behind him, an incubus looked out on each petitioner. On his left hand, a large ruby ring resided, placed even on this statue as his symbol. Any creature who wore that distinctive ring acted in the name of the Emperor. The ring, not fitted with any normal ruby, but instead one that pulsed with an inner light, was a symbol feared by all. Any emissary wearing it would be treated with the utmost respect, because agents of Malveris, of the Emperor, would strike with fury any who harmed one wearing the ring. It wasn’t known how the Emperor knew who had harmed his emissaries, but he always knew.

The capital city, the city named for the Empress, the city of Vespera, had been crafted with magic many years ago. In the time since, shops and homes had been built by human and elven hands, by demons and monsters once feared across the land.

Even though time had passed, the War was spoken of with awe, in whispers of reverance. How Malveris and his companions had emerged from a small town, a solace for monsterkind, and had begun to conquer the world. Lord Garth, a might minotaur, had defended the Emperor from every enemy imaginable, and now commanded the armies of the Empire, with his two generals. Skartchin, once a lowly kobold, had served Malveris as a personal servant, and as his magic grew, so did his place within the company; now none save the Emperor and the Empress commanded him. The tiny kobold ruled the Magister’s guild, the union of all magic users, whether wizards, warlocks, or sorcerers. The Magister’s guild controlled passage throughout the Empire, transporting parties, the richest of the merchants, and armies across the empire in a matter of seconds. Though this had once been an expensive process, in these days many could afford it.

The Magister’s guild also served an important purpose, controlling the collection of taxes. While they did not dispense on matters of justice, many understood that a Magister’s justice was final (and often deadly).

The army, led by Lord Garth and his two generals, oversaw policing the lands and were responsible for tracking down offenders of the empire and bringing them to justice. Judgements of law were left up to feudal lords set in place by the Emperor and Empress, but often guilds of merchants and races clamored until they were given sentencing to appease them. Most notable among the laws of the land was the bounty on all dragonkind, where the corpse of any dragon, good or evil, was worth a fortune. Kobolds were exempt from this, as the prime servants of the Magister’s Guild, but many a fool met their death turning in the dragon-kin kobold. The skies, once watched with fear of dragon-kind, had not seen their like in many years.

The mighty city of Vespera sat in the center of the Empire, on the remains of the human and elven kingdoms that had tried to fight the Empire. Near Vespera rested the ruins of cities in both capitals, that remained desolate by command of the Emperor. Although the cities and countries had been conquered, there were still human and elven settlers in the Empire- in fact, they had thrived in the past few years. But those unwilling to bend to an Empire they considered evil, or refusing to give into defeat had set up small enclaves and places of refuge. Here the greatest of the old world’s heroes wait, train, and seek to bring down the Empire.

In a place like the Empire, there was no place for a thieves’ guild. The Empress, an epic thief and the center of many of her own legends, headed the Spetznats, the combined force of all thieves guild left over from the old countries. She ruled them with an iron fist, and used them as a secret police, seeking out dissenters within the Empire. They were called ‘the secret police’ in hushed tones, for all feared to be found by them. The Spetznats answered to none but the highest of the Empire, and ran the prisons of the Empire, making them places few returned from, and none ever spoke of. Those who did hear rumors heard of places of torture and death, where those secrets you did not even know could be pried from your bones.

Religion was common among elves and humans, but for the most part, monsters did not fear the Gods. The Emperor Malveris was enough to fear for most of them, and even those who did not fear him should have known better. Still, there were churches set up for those who desired them, who would give healing for a price. More uncommon were temples to good gods, as those had been destroyed in the War and often were not rebuilt. Worshippers of good gods met in small groups, often in secret, although there was no need for it. Even evil deities had fallen out of favor, with the powerful clerics who had once served Malveris attempted to unthrone him and were destroyed. The remains of their order filled what was left of the temple, as the Emperor had refused to let them rebuild their citadel.

Despite the chaotic and evil origins of the Empire, it was a beautiful day and a time of prosperity. The war to conquer the human and elven lands was long over, and the rebuilding that had taken years was over. The siege of the underground lands, of Dwarves and drow, had taken years, but had brought much treasure, both magical and material, to even the lowest member of the Empire. The dark drow had been conquered, and the stubborn dwarves had bowed under the weight of the Empire, signing treaties of trade and service. Before long, the armies had moved to other planes of existence, conquering even among their denizens who considered creatures of this plane weak things.

In the past years, outposts of the Empire had been set up in levels of the Nine Hells, on the plane of Succubi and Vrock, and outer planes where daemons now feared the name of Malveris and the Empire. All of this war had brought wealth and trade to the empire, and it showed. Magic was common- even the lowest commoner human or elf was not afraid of the mightiest monsters, as the Empire ruled all of them with a fist that allowed no disrespect. Cities had been removed from the ground, and it was uncommon, although not unheard of, for cities to be spotted in the sky, flying from place to place.

In an area of the city, far from the center, the Empress’ palace, or the marketplace, on the edge of the poorest areas of town, there were grates built into the street. This was not uncommon, as the sewers beneath the city needed ready access so that they could be cleaned, and occasionally, they needed to be filled with hunters for Imperial Fugitives. But this grate was special. This grate, if it had been pried open (no easy feat), would have led down a straight shaft for almost a thousand feet, becoming smaller and smaller as it descended, winding downward. This shaft would spilt into left and right, moving air around a gigantic underground complex. This tiny shaft would carry air, but not the smells of home or the feel of sunlight, to the prisons of the Spetznats, feared by all creatures in the Empire.

The prisons, feared by all above and told in hushed voices to small children, served their purpose. Here, information was extracted, plots were uncovered, and crimes were punished. Here they carried out the feared sentences, which rarely meant a quick death, but years of pain, torture and waiting.

The passageway that led to this place was hidden, secret, and often changed. No one knew if it were magic, or simply that there were many passages here, but there was only ever one safe exit at any time. That exit required a key, held by the warden; in this case, a terrible monster who rarely set eyes on the prisoners. The areas that prisoners would have been most aware of was the large main chamber, both the first place and the last place the prisoners would ever see. This large, multi-story chamber, was ringed with torches that gave it an orange-red glow, like the pits of Hell. It was filled with implements of torture, for every size, monster, and race. Often Spetznats would work for hours on a prisoner, torturing but asking no question, only to put the fear into the other prisoners.

On occasion, many monsters were herded into a single large room, allowed to fight, and then weeded out- you were all so chosen. The charges you were arrested on do not matter, as they ALL mean you will never see sunlight again. You have been herded into this small, dank, wet prison cell, with no light, and no hope. The cries of those being currently tortured only lead you to wait, with fear and apprehension, for your turn.

-=*=- -=*=- -=*=-

((This is an extension of the NEW Villian and Monster Campaign thread, so if you're intersted in joining, please read up and ask whatever questions you want here:

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showt...63#post3624063

As for format questions, start each response with the name of your character in bold, please put actions in italics in the following format: listening: roll (14) + skill (4) = 18, and I'll post the results in my following post.

Other than that, just have fun- I am allowing in-fighting and player killing, but if someone turns into a teamkiller, I'm sure the other monsters will find a way to balance it out. This is a story-driven thread, so have fun!))

-Logain the Evil and Rather Slovenly GM

[Logain]

Suddenly in the dark of the passageway, as you seek to quietly argue tactics and discretion, there is a whisper of footpad on stone. Almost before you're able to react, shadows burst forth with men, rats, and something in between. Caught unawares and injured, the ensuing clash is short, but the victor is not clear. Several wererats simply run through the muddled fighting, taking advantage of swift legs and slippery rock to avoid the monsters that have invaded their warrens. Others fight to the death, maws and weapons bloodied before they fall into the sickly green muck.

Before long, the battle is over, and the wererats flee, every rat or man able to walk on thier own sloshing away through the muck. They don't even pause to assure that every monster is dead, simply leaving the group where they've fallen and hoping for the worst.

Several minutes pass by, and the Shadow stirs from the wall where it hid during the battle. A quick look over the monsters lying in injured states along the wet corridor, and then the shadow turns and looks off into the distance, almost as if seeking the way back to Bettrin's offices and the hidden and feared prison. After a few seconds of this silent querying, the sliver of darkness sinks back into the wall, waiting.

* * * * *

The next thing any of you know is light. Light, and after the oil rankness of the sewer, fresh, clean smells. The light is not a pure one, but the red of a guttering torch, and for those of you who had suffered in the prison, a most unwelcome return.

The moans of the dying, starving, and tortured prisoners all combine into an ever-present whisper and hum of pain, a constant reminder of the pain that probably awaits you shortly.

The next thing you become aware of is that your wounds are bandaged. An eye opened or a feeling hand confirms this, and much more.

After the dank smells of the sewer, you thought any sight would be a welcome one, but as you open your eyes, you prove yourself wrong. All around you is the dark stone and unworked iron of the prison, bars and rock stained by the pain and blood of many thousands of tortured prisoners.

A quick glance around you confirms that you are not in one of the cells. For those of you who only briefly stayed in the prison before this, you breathe half a sigh of relief before you realize where you are. Surrounding the room are devices of such devious and horrible design that you can only guess what they are used for. Any such glance will reveal that the monster comrades who started off with you but left the group are strapped into these devices, the illythid who left as a scout never to return strapped into an iron mask near the fire, where iron pokers are being heated to the red-hot that will make them useful to their task. The blue female giant lays unconscious on a table, several knives laid out as if to prepare for some nightmarish feast.

In panic, you glance at your own accommodations, surprised and relieved to find that no devious torture device awaits you. A look at your companions reveals that not all of them are so lucky, and even though some of them look unconscious or worse, each has a bundle on the floor near them, a bag containing their possessions.

As the few of you stir, one of the guards, cloaked and hooded even in the darkness of the prison, turns and leaves the room, locking the iron-barred door behind him. After what seems like an eternity, he returns opening the door to admit Bettrin, the warden who set you to your task. She calmly sits on a throne that she occupies often, watching silently and waiting for all of you to awake.

[GuesssWho]

Ghuan: "The tiny elephants . . . hah! I'm in your head! Know what they think? I am what they think! Who are you?" A mad whisper comes from a corner. "Are you people, or just talkrats? I hate the talkrats, they eat away at my brain!" The tone changes, becoming much closer to normal. "I'm Ghuan'geld Afin'ar. Call me Ghaun. What's your name?"
There is a scuttling sound, and a . . . thing comes into view. It is a humanoid female above the waist, with beautiful silvery hair and wild maroon eyes, but below is the body of a black widow spider. It holds a punching dagger in one hand. It smiles a little too wide, and the smile shows fangs like a vampire's.
"The talkrats tell me to ail what cures you. Hurt, heal, hurt, heal, hurt! Cure what ails and ail what cures."

[The_Snark]

Kierach

The young angel snaps into wakefulness at the voice, staring upwards. For a minute, confusion shows on her face as she tries to work out where she is. The last I remember, the wererats had found us a few minutes too soon. Then... but no, this can't be them. They didn't have anything like this. She stretches her wings, and only then realizes she's shackled to the wall. Fortunately, her feet are still touching the ground—she doesn't have to lift herself off the ground to breathe. Even without being staked to the wall, that sort of death by crucifixion was unpleasant.

Of course, a single glance upwards reveals that the chains could be lifted so as to keep her off the ground; in fact, it was perhaps only her height that allowed her to keep her footing. She looks levelly at the black-clad figure, and the spider-like thing on the ceiling. Apparently, they wanted her alive... for now, at least; ominous fates are being prepared for others. It could be worse; they could be excruciarchs, she thinks wryly. She also notes that she's been cleaned up a bit—at least enough to bandage her wounds. That was a relief. It's even possible to tell that her wings are white, now.

"Mine is Kierach," the angel replies; it wasn't as if anybody would know of her. "And where might this be?"

[kirn]

Silence

A black pool bleeds under the door from which Bettrin entered and quickly congeals into the form of a human. It seems to take more care than normal in its appearance, at least as much as can be taken by something as black as the abyss.

Looking about the room, the shadow appears expressionless until it notices Bettrin upon her throne. The shadow then strides over to stand before Bettrin and bow. After a few moments of standing before Bettrin, the shadow bows again and turns to face the rest of the room.

Rising off the floor, the shadow abandons the pretext of walking and glides about the room examining the prisoners. At most, the shadow simply observes, however, some are simply too tasty to pass up. In particular, it reaches out and touches the giantess twice. A noticable shiver passes through her body each time. To the prisoners that are not being actively tortured, the shadow bows slightly and checks the condition of their dressings. After a time, it seems satisfied and returns to stand before Bettrin's throne.

The shadow stands briefly before Bettrin's throne, occassionally nodding. After another bow, it turns and walks around Bettrin's throne and disappears behind it.

[GuesssWho]

Ghuan:
"Strange mad pain place number three! Hurt heal hurt crazy land of enchantments! I'm so sorry for you."

[NEO|Phyte]

Moastuo

When the swarm of wererats arrived, Moastuo wasn't overly surprised. Half the group seemed to have no idea how to move quietly, and the other half didn't seem to care enough to bother. He had hidden himself in an alcove, waiting for a chance to escape and join the others that had left the group.

And now he was here, wherever here was. He couldn't remember how he ended up here, but the lack of sewage stench seemed to indicate that it wasn't the wererat lair, which left all of everywhere else in the damn world for him to be. For the most part, he took little interest in examining his surroundings, as the sounds told him all he cared to know about. There was also the very real possibility that if he showed signs of being awake, it would be his turn receive the treatment bestowed upon so many others here.

An all-too-familiar chillness finally convinced Moastuo to open his eyes, where he saw, among many other less-than-pleasant things, a human-shaped blackness. So that damned shadow was still around. He could also see a fair number of the rest of the group, including those that had left.
Maybe its a good thing I didn't go with them...

[DirtyFloyd]

Gurnan

Sitting on a table, Gurnan is naked from the waist up, and is being poked and prodded by two of the torturers with a hot poker. Two things catch your immediate attention regarding this scene. First, Gurnan is a mass of scars, he appears as if someone took a bunch of mismatched body parts and stitched them together to make one whole body, but couldn't find a complete face so several were used.

Secondly, the red hot pokers seem to be more of an annoyance than a source of pain, as the rods leave no seared flesh as they are pulled away from his skin, and Gurnan seems amazed that he is not being harmed either. This has the torturers muttering to each other as if each new poke is giving them answers to the nature of the universe.

You are quite certain that this creature is a Flesh Golem.

Gurnan seems to be ignoring his companions other than to notice when they regain consciousness.

"This shirt is filthy, I'm not putting this thing back on, ...but then I have nothing else to wear..."

You there, torturer, cut that out already. Do you have a laundress for these clothes? These are just not wearable in their present condition.

The moment the woman who sits upon the throne enters the room, Gurnan turns to her, opens his mouth as if to speak, then decides better of it and just sits there with no further comment or acknowledgment of the men poking him.

[The_Snark]

Kierach

"Are you," Kierach says dryly to the spider-thing. "Sorry enough to tell me more? Such as how I came to be here, and why?" She shakes one of her arms out, rattling the chain attached to it, and wonders whether it will be able to give her anything resembling a coherent reply. She doubts it. A pity the black-clad woman wasn't speaking—somebody around here had to be saner than the spider, to keep the place running.

[GuesssWho]

Ghuan:
"None tell me where they get pain people for paining. You come and you go and you come and you go and I stay in here and they yell at me. They call me crazy but of course I am crazy but they're so rude about it! Millennium hand and shrimp! Certainly I'll have a whelk. How'd we do it, volume?

[GnollLord]

Sku-lin

Sku-lin stirs. A series of memories flash through his mind. The group had been discusing tactics when the wererats had hit them. They had fought back but had been dragged down by weight of numbers. And yet he was not dead. Although if the sounds he was hearing were anything to go by that might not be a guarantee for long. He stands, looking around until his gaze finally settles on Bettrin.

[The_Snark]

Kierach

Kierach smiles. "Don't worry about me," she says dryly, "I make it a policy not to insult my jailors." Still, she decides, the thing clearly wasn't going to be able to tell her anything coherent. She shifts her gaze to the black-clad figure on the throne, content to play the waiting game for now.

[GuesssWho]

Ghuan comes closer. You notice that there is a lens over her left eye, held in place by spines in her brow and cheek.
"Don't worry. We're all going to make it to the cemetery, why be upset about what happens between times? There's a shadow on every wall, but it's just a shadow. Real things are real, but the dark can't hurt you."
She shudders. "If you escape, take me with you! I hate it here."

[NEO|Phyte]

Moastuo

Seeing most of the rest of the group awake, Moastuo voices his thoughts, in a rather sarcastic tone.
"That went rather well."

[Logain]

Bettrin eyes the goblin ruefully, an expression that's half amusement and half annoyance on her face.

"Yes, wasn't it. And things were going so well, too," the woman stands, the light black robe falling around and showing off it's obvious quality. She gestures to one of the guards, a human-esque looking form, wrapped in black robes, with a dark turban covering their head and face. The guard steps forward, helping Bettrin step down from her throne.

She gestures for him to retake him place against the wall, and moves around to inspect each of you, living and conscious or not as much. With a smile, she walks past the blue-skinned giantss, running a hand along the stumps that are left of her legs, because they have been removed below the knee. The imp is stuffed into a cage far too small for it, but she simply moves her hand aside as it lashes at her with its tail.

Bettrin simply shakes her head in disappointment as she passes the white-furred rakshasa. "I had such hopes for you," she says softly to the unconscious form.

Waiting but not completely expecting an answer, Bettrin snaps her fingers and points to one of the guards by the door, as if issuing a command. The guard steps through the door and pulls another form into the room, a rakshasa in chains. Bettrin nods to the guard, who removes the chains with a twist of a key and helps the rakshasa sit in one of the few comfortable chairs in the room.

Bettrin addresses the leftovers of the group of monsters she had sent out, speaking with equal distaste for all of them. "I gave you a simple task, and you have failed gloriously," she says, glancing down at a minotaur strapped to a wrack. One of his horns is broken, and his chest shows the wounds he took from blundering into the trap; she runs a single finger along his unbroken horn, and then inspects it as if hoping to find dirt.

Bettrin steps toward the illythid fitted with an iron mask. The huddled and beaten mind flayer quakes at her touch, sobbing a sad echo inside the mask.

"If not for my follower, the shadow, you would all be dead." She examines the pit fiend, unconscious and bound, but clearly just resting between torture sessions. "Some of you still might end up that way."

"But," she pauses gesturing with a single finger, "this task is too important to be left half-done." She gestures to the shadow, hiding in the wall behind the throne, and to the insane drider babbling nonsense. Last, she gestures to the rakshasa, with a shrug. "These will join you, and share in your reward or your defeat."

Stepping to forward, circling almost completely around the room from where she started, Bettrin shares a small smile with the flesh golem, motioning for the torturers to stop thier useless ministrations. "I see that you have found... unique companionship. They also will join you and share in your reward or suffering." With a smile and a comment meant solely for the flesh golem she leans in and whispers "I know you feel no pain from fire, but believe me when I say that I know things that will make you suffer."

Straigtening, she speaks to all of you; "You will be given new supplies, and weapons if you need them, and sent back out to finish your task. The wererats have abandoned their previous warrens, but have amassed into a larger and more well-defended group, hidden in an underground fortress. Slay them, bring me my treasures, and you will be free to go. Fail again, and your reward will be pain beyond your imagining for longer than you can even begin to comprehend. I will have healers brought in to mend your broken bodies, only so that I may break them again."

"The Shadow told me of the mis-management of your group, and how several were allowed to leave." She gestures to the pit fiend and the giantess in particular. "Know that the shadow is my servant, and will tell me of all that you do. For his reward, I will give him the means of speaking with you, so that you may know my displeasure and have his wisdom in your endeavors." She pulls a ring from a pouch within her robes, a ring that seems to be made of almost nothing, which she slides into the shadow, onto what you assume is a finger. "Now he will speak, and you will heed his counsel."

Proceeding around the room, she glares at each of you, saying nothing but each look promising hurt and pain. Finally, she gestures and nods to the guards, who begin lowering each of you and removing the shackles. Those who are unconscious are left strapped to the tables, obviously waiting some fiendish punishment.

She finally ends up in front of Keirach, where she stops, pulling a filthy white feather from the fallen deva's wing. With a raised eyebrow she asks, "Where on earth did they find you?", peering up at you chained to the wall. "I was under the impression that the forces of light had been destroyed."

[kirn]

Silence

The shadow examines the ring for a moment, and then bows to Bettrin. After a moment, it seems to realize that it should try to speak.

Wererats found and enslaved the bird woman. She likes revenge.

Turning to the former leader of the party, it continues... Can you hear me now? The warren has between 30 and 50 wererats, heavily fortified and prepared for us. A patrol has been dispatched to seek us out and destroy us. It is suicide to continue and we should fall back and tend to our wounded before proceeding... or you can stand here and wait for them. You're choice.

Turning to Sku-lin, the shadow again considers. I think you are more suited to lead. At least long enough to enjoy first choice of weapons. I shall give you my aide, as my mistress instructs. Hopefully you will not squander it as the furball did. Gather the rest and we will see about weapons.

Floating back before Bettrin and bowing, the shadow finishes Do you have any other tasks for these to perform my mistress?

[Logain]

Bettrin

Bettrin nods, acknowledging your bow and looks around at the rest of the group before continuing "No, but it is imperative that they finish this task, or die trying."

[The_Snark]

Kierach

Kierach manages to smile at their jailor. "Destroyed? I rather doubt it; the forces of heaven keep to their own territory. On this plane, perhaps. Given the pursuit I encountered when I arrived, it seems likely." This is the first time she's been able to get a close look at the black-clad woman, and she takes the opportunity to scrutinize her closely. Used to command, obviously. A higher-up in the Empire, and almost certainly in the Spetznats. Intelligent, or she wouldn't still be in this position... it will be interesting to see whether she shares the same foolishness that most of her sort do.

"So... you want the wererats gone, but not enough to commit your own forces." She nods to herself. "Fair enough. I'd like them gone, too." In fact, now that the wererats would be too preoccupied to hunt her down, she would have been perfectly happy to never see them again, but given her current situation, that was not really an option. She was unwelcome enough in the Empire without enemies looking specially for her.

[GuesssWho]

Ghaun
"If we die we die not. Souls live on forever. I wish only to please Lolth. I will be with Lolth when I die. I fear not. Gods watch over us. If not, then we don't exist. Nothing exists unless it is observed. Of course, we observe ourselves. Does that count? I'm not sure."

[NEO|Phyte]

Moastuo

With the formalities over, Moastuo was finally free to make sure all of his possessions were present, particularly that curious ring...
"And I was just starting to get used to the smell of not being in a sewer, too... Still, our new leader may prove less suicidal than the old, and if nothing else, our shadowy friend doesn't need to play charades to tell us what's going on anymore."
Aside from pausing to examine the ring for a few moments before returning it to his finger, the only other item he took particular note of was the silvered dagger. His less than stellar abilities with the thing aside, the thing was puny enough to be virtually useless. He'd have to see about getting something better, Bettrin had said something about new weapons...

Once his possessions were in order, Moastuo took one last look around the room, then fell on all fours, blueish fur growing all over his body as he changed into a lupine form, his fingers extending into vicious claws, but his face remaining mostly unchanged, aside from the eyes, which now glowed a bright orange.

[Jael_Darkwood]

Chelion

The catlike humanoid on the floor stirs weakly. Its first attempt at standing is barely more than a twitch. Drunkenly, it gathers itself for another try. Staggers. Falls. Twitching, Chelion finally gets his feet under him. Weaving where he stands, he holds both hands to his head. He closes his eyes, and his breath slows. Steadies. His shaking increases for a moment, then, finally, dissapears. Assuming his full height, he looks around once more. Though dirty and unkempt, his posture and gaze demonstrate nothing but calm confidence. His golden eyes take in his surroundings, narrowing slightly when he sees the angel. Slowly and deliberately, he brushes out his fur.

"I am Chelion."

[GnollLord]

Sku-lin

Sku-lin checks over his various possessions to make sure that nothing is missing. Once he is satisfied that everything is there, he stops to look over the various monsters.
"I am Sku-lin. It appears I have the dubious honour of leading this walking suicide mission"

Turning to Bettrin. "So. I belive you mentioned new weapons then..."

[GuesssWho]

Ghuan laughs, madly and bitterly.
"Suicide is painless, it brings on many changes. I can take it or leave it as I please. You can do the same thing if you please," she says in a sing-song voice. Then she abruptly becomes both serious and fairly normal. For a moment. "Weapons would be nice. I had a whip once. I wish I still did," she says, and then goes back to singing randomly.

[Jael_Darkwood]

"....yess..... of course. For those that enjoy such things, no doubt. I myself intend to make sure we ALL survive. Except those who wish to volunteer for suicide missions." Chelion looks around. "A selection of equipment does always help."

[The_Snark]

Kierach

"I'm Kierach," the angel introduces herself, equanimitably ignoring the rakshasa's possibly unfriendly look. She does look at him appraisingly when he says he intends to see them all survive if he can, nodding slightly to herself.

As the chains are removes, she stretches, first her arms and then her wings, working the cramps out of them. The smell of the sewers remains, although she's somewhat cleaner than she was before; presumably, whoever bandaged her wounds at least took the time to brush the filth of the sewers off. Gods above, I will need to bathe for a week to remove this stench when this whole business is done with. "Weapons would suit me, as well; the sword I used earlier served well enough, but silvered arrows for all of us would be a help."

[geez3r]

Brazick

A pained groan from a previously silent portion of the room is heard. The teifling known as Brazick finally awakens, apparently the movement of the chains being removed was enough to wake him from his stupor. As he stands at his full height, several of his bones are heard popping. His eyes flicker as they adjust to the torch light. He scans the room as he rubs his partially bandaged wrists, trying to get the feeling back into them. He notes the presence of the rest of the poor souls who just had a nice little excursion into the sewers, their bandages condition, their possesions at their feet, and more importantly Bettrin. Room full of expendable prisoners... who have recently had their wounds tended to... are now in a torture chamber... being released... with their weapons... and the royal pain is here as well... Why do I get the feeling that we're being sent on another fricken suicide mission?

After a bit of stretching, he shoulders his pack with all his junk in it. To no one in particular he says "Explain to me what this "mission" is on the way. Nothing against the decor here..." Brazick gestures around the room, paying special note to the ones actively being tortured "...but I've got this feeling that our deaths out there will be a little quicker and painless than the ones in here. You know, just a thought."

[NEO|Phyte]

Moastuo

"Oh, our mission is quite simple. You see, there's these wererats in the sewers, and we have to go kill them."

[GuesssWho]

Ghuan giggles at this. "Well put, well put!"
She then begins to sing this song.

[Jael_Darkwood]

Chelion

"more important than equipment is intelligence... we need some information on the sewers. Specifically, is there a way to control the waterflow?" Tenting his hands, he smiles to himself. "Perhaps we can drown these rats..."

[Logain]

Bettrin raises an eyebrow at the idea of drowning the wererats, and turns to confront it's origin. "And wash away my treasure? Surely you jest."

She inspects all of the conscious monsters, her eyes lingering on the tiefling. "I am sending you on the same mission as before- attack and kill the wererats, recover my treasure, and bring it here. If you do that, you'll live. If you fail again, or any of you attempt to leave, you will be tortured and eventually die at my hands."

As if to emphasize the truth of her words, she slinks over to where the mind flayer is wearing the mask fitted for hot iron pokers and strokes the metal.