closed | nessum prison blues

[cozen]

WHO: Bastien, Byerly, Talin, Tav, Teren, and Vlast
WHAT: Prison break
WHEN: Mid-Harvestmere (October) 9:50
WHERE: Southern Tevinter. Not actually Nessum–the post title is a joke—but somewhere in the wilderness not too far from there.
NOTES: OOC post. General violence cw.

The trap is not immediately apparent. They're met by a man dressed as their contact, Georgios, was meant to be dressed. Maybe the clothes are a little too big on him—but the People of the Silent Plains have bigger things to worry about than careful tailoring. Maybe his manner is a little wary and skittish, but he's a freedom fighter on the outskirts of a war zone meeting a group of strangers, some of them wholly alien, to escort to the People's hiding place.

And maybe the plan was meant to go better than this. Maybe the Vints waiting at the end of the road with their grenades and telekinetic prison spells planned to mount a more organized attack, neat and swift, once everyone had been lured into long-parched desert ravine ahead.

But something gives it away first. "Georgios" grows a little too anxious on the approach; the wind catching his jacket and lifting it enough to show a flash of a bloodstain on the back of his shirt that's too dark and too maroon not to be from earlier this same day. A glimpse, if nothing else, of one of the people lying in wait ahead of them, something in their posture that twigs as too tense, not quite right for a lookout protecting a hide-out and only seeing an expected group of visitors on the approach. Regardless of what tips various members of the group off, it's enough forewarning for them refuse to be led quietly into the corral that's been set up for them.

Half a chase, half a fight. The grenades and dirty magic tricks still come out. So do more drastic measures: arrows, fire, the blunt sides of heavy swords. Threats to cut the throats of whomever's been caught first if whomever's still fighting doesn't lay down their weapon. One way or another, in the end, everyone's wrangled into a wagon, hands bound and heads covered with sacks to obscure their view of where they're being taken. No gags, though. There's no one out here to hear them.

Comments

[tadpoled]

"If anyone would like some healing I may be able to provide it as soon as we cross into an area that allows it," Tav replies, sporting two black eyes and a multitude of bruises all over his body.

Still, he's not entirely sure if he can heal after he was unable to do so when he returned from the Fade. Perhaps his magic is still weak or non-existant. Who knows what silencing wards may be in effect into the hallway.

also a thousand pardons for slow - work's been absolutely nuts

[allthatgleamsisgold]

Vlast, chained and muzzled, is still a bloodied mess who should, by all rights, be running on fumes at this point. Some of those wounds look as though they've soured in the filth and damp and dark.

"Get this thing off me," he snarls, "I can move just fine."

The chains may pose a problem, but once they're unlocked (by key or pick), and he's got the feeling back in his arms and legs, he's unsteady but mobile, and more than ready to get out.

[doneisdone]

The bony lump in the cell with Vlast turns her head slightly, squinting at the elf as she shifts painfully onto her side.

"Toss us a pin," she rasps, "'less you've got the manacle keys."

[dirthsal]

All the cell doors open, Talin tosses Teren the keyring.

"You can't run," is said less as a question than a statement of fact, considering the all of her.

[doneisdone]

A little snort in answer-- she's not disagreeing-- as she begins to cycle through all the keys to find the one that fits Vlast's manacles.
They open with a click, and she reclines once more with a pained sigh, but the keys are granted to Vlast for his muzzle. Naptime.

[allthatgleamsisgold]

He doesn't even wait for the key. The moment his hand is freed, he rips the thing from his face, leather straps snapping in his grip.

It's tossed aside like the trash it is, and for a moment Vlast stands tall, in pure spite of the injuries and humiliation their captors thought to inflict on him.

"I can carry her," he says as Teren slumps. He kneels, checking if she's still breathing. "They were not as kind to her as the rest of us."

[doneisdone]

She's still breathing, still awake, just conserving her energy-- sure, it's possible the unkindness Teren bore was directly related to how difficult she made it for their captors on purpose, but at least she doesn't seem to have taken it too personally that they beat the living fuck out of her.

"Mm," she grunts, perhaps in something like protest, but clearly in no shape to actually do so.