The scout takes the sword, peering after him for a long moment. Wherever has he gone to?
The chevalier nudges whoever is in his cell with him and word is passed, through whispers and murmurs, of rescue. This time of night all have taken to huddling and praying to be skipped, but they rouse, they wait.
The locks are simple enough under Pam's skilled hands, popping after a bit of finessing. The Inquisition scouts are out and prepared to fight- the Chevalier? All the more so. That leaves eight armed in their cells and freed- or soon to be freed- to act as pudgy assistance to the team.
At the far end of the hall, beyond the door? Shouting. A flare of light.The shattering of glass and meaty thud of a cleaver against wood. Frantic Orlesian.
no subject
The chevalier nudges whoever is in his cell with him and word is passed, through whispers and murmurs, of rescue. This time of night all have taken to huddling and praying to be skipped, but they rouse, they wait.
The locks are simple enough under Pam's skilled hands, popping after a bit of finessing. The Inquisition scouts are out and prepared to fight- the Chevalier? All the more so. That leaves eight armed in their cells and freed- or soon to be freed- to act as pudgy assistance to the team.
At the far end of the hall, beyond the door? Shouting. A flare of light.The shattering of glass and meaty thud of a cleaver against wood. Frantic Orlesian.