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Waywardly Wicked: Chapter Two

  • tonashdrahow
  • Nov 28, 2016
  • 11 min read

CHAPTER TWO

The oppressive grime-caked walls of Branderscar felt incredibly less imposing as the group had discovered they were no longer alone in their time of struggle. Cirano, the aged wizard, had cautiously removed the patches from the veil obtained from their mysterious benefactor with each of the disheveled prisoners happily receiving the wondrous little gifts while appearing like grateful children during the holidays.

“Asmodeus be praised,” Barriddon exclaimed as he proudly caressed the wooden religious symbol of his god which had coincidentally been one of the many patches from the magical veil.

“Keep it down you fool,” Cirano hushed the exuberant half-orc, “the guards will overhear us and whatever divine influence your deity may have granted will be wasted in an instant!”

A particularly loud snore from the ogre in the far cell seemed to have stolen the momentum from the large man’s exultation, much to the group’s relief. M knew that Cirano was absolutely correct; they had been given a life line and if it wound up getting wasted, they would not get another opportunity. The half-orc took notice of everyone’s demeanor and nodded, effectively apologizing for his outburst.

“We need to form a plan if we are to make it out of here in one piece,” the wizard said quietly, surprising everyone with the dramatic shift in his persona now that he had access to his magic once more, “In the time that Ryahl and I have been imprisoned before you all arrived, I overheard the guards talking outside the cell block, “Apparently, since that pompous one-eyed Richter took control of this prison, its operations have been utterly run into the ground. Supposedly that’s our corrupt ‘friend’ Blackerly’s doing as he’s been introducing drinking and gambling to the night shifts, leaving only a meager skeleton crew of sober and capable men to run the prison.”

That would explain the lax amount of observation that allowed the group to discuss things as we are now, M thought as she arrived at the same conclusion.

“Oh, I like where this is going,” Furr said with a mischievous grin, “We get to raise a little hell on our way out, right?”

“Hopefully not,” Ryahl responded in all seriousness, drawing an exaggerated pout from the Halfling.

“In any event,” the wizard calmly brought the conversation back on topic, “we need these manacles removed, but I’d imagine that the set of tools may make too much noise if we haphazardly attempt to remove each of our bindings. I’d like to have one of us be free of their chains and lure a guard into the cell to open the door for us to utilize as our initial escape… From there, we can split into smaller groups to find access to a map of the maze of swamps outside the prison and the gatehouse where we can hopefully leave this hell hole.”

“The plan is sound, wizard,” Barriddon said, opening his eyes after digesting everything that had been discussed, “The only problem I foresee is that not one of us knows how to pick a lock, leaving these shackles a fairly large issue,” he sighed looking at everyone, “Anyone?”

“I could learn,” Furr said without thinking, drawing a dour glare from the half-orc.

A sudden clinking from the corner drew everyone’s attention, as the silent dwarf was frantically banging his two manacles together, gesturing towards the locks with a frustrated expression on his face.

“Really,” Cirano shook his head in disbelief.

Another set of banging chains from the dwarf and an aggravated huff were the immediate responses.

“Quiet down, ya damned ingrates… Can’t believe we got stuck with cell-watch tonight,” a half-hearted call followed by a yawn from the guards’ station outside the cell block crept past the rhythmic snoring of the ogre, causing the group to fall silent for a few moments.

“Just give the tools to the dwarf already,” Barriddon quietly ushered the wizard.

“I pray fewer projectiles will be hurled my way in the future,” Cirano sighed as he passed the small file and picks over to the diminutive bearded fellow.

A derisive snort that doubled as a chuckle followed as the dwarf went to work on his manacles. The group waited silently, watching with anticipation as his hands attempted to disarm the mechanism.

Minutes passed.

A half an hour goes by.

An hour slowly follows.

“Sweet saints and sinners alive,” Furr blurted out, her patience literally falling apart at the seams, startling everyone, “Just give me the damned things already!”

In shock of the sudden outburst, the dwarf’s hands slipped, breaking the file in the lock. He held up the broken tool for all to see with his face a perfect portrait of equal parts frustration and embarrassment.

“Um…,” Furr muttered, looking down at the floor before gingerly pointing in the direction of the sleeping ogre, “…he did it?”

“H’okay,” Cirano said as he rubbed his eyes in utter contempt, “Let’s make a new plan then—“

The dwarf huffed as he removed the broken manacles from his legs, carefully placing them on the ground before crossing his chained arms and sitting back down with a dark expression.

“Guards, Guards! Come quickly! The dwarf is casting a spell!”

M nearly jumped, becoming horrified when the loud alarm came from Barriddon of all people!

“Gods, if you arse-hats are wasting my time,” the voice from the guard post echoed as the sound of his keys jangled before the door swung wide open.

A second guard followed in behind him, gazing on the cell, pointing at the dwarf.

“How in the Nine Hells did you get your shackles off, whelp?”

Red looked utterly shocked as he gazed angrily at Barriddon and tried desperately to step back against the wall. The cell gate opened and the two soldiers walked inside, one remaining by the door while the other approached the dwarf. He pulled his wooden club from its holster and brought it down hard on the poor dwarf’s shoulder, prompting an inaudible gasp of pain.

M’s mind raced and wondered what she could do as the mute Red was being beaten badly by the overzealous guard. Her thoughts focused then and her hands twisted quickly as she brought one of the few spells she understood into reality. Bright runes flashed for only a moment before fading away to nothingness.

“Excuse me,” she said with a surprisingly sultry voice, drawing the intrigue of the nearest guard.

When the man turned, he dropped his weapon and he viewed the gorgeous woman in some way that would likely have despised M if she was not the one engineering the enchantment. Her eyes emanated a bright shade of violet light as she offered a tantalizing smile and beckoning the man to come forward, leaving his comrade with the dwarf.

“My dearest, I wish to hold you! To be with you! But these chains… these chains are so tight and restricting… Please, free me so we can be together,” her voice echoed in the man’s mind.

“Together…,” the soldier said mechanically as he moved closer to the woman, pulling his keys from his belt.

As he began unfastening her manacles, the other guard turned and was shocked by what his partner was attempting to do.

“Dorian! What in Mitra’s—“

His exclamation was cut short as the unchained and beaten dwarf finally saw an opportunity with the distracted guard, dropping his stunted legs low and spinning hard, took the man’s feet from underneath him and sending him crashing to the hard floor. The guard struggled to get up but Red was already on him, wrapping his arm restraints around the man’s neck and pulling tight.

The soldier named Dorian stared bewitched at the young sorceress as she stood up and reached out to him with open arms.

“Dor… ian… Help…”

“I’m so lonely without my friends,” M’s voice continued to drown out all others within the guard’s consciousness, “could I borrow those keys, please? It would make me so happy!”

Dorian looked down at the keys in his hands, slowly passing them to the mystifying woman before him. She immediately ran over to Red to assist in his ordeal. The other guard at last went silent as air continued to elude his lungs. The dwarf blew a sigh of relief, releasing his grip and allowed the man to fall limply to the floor while the jingle of his ringmail shirt echoed slightly in the prison as it became relatively quiet once more. It only took a few moments before M had unlocked the dwarf’s arm restraints and acquired a second set of keys from the unconscious guard on the floor, soon freeing the others as they all looked to the young woman who had exhibited her unexpected albeit incredibly timely power.

“Where did that come from, Blue Eyes,” Furr commented, a bit puzzled.

“She’s a sorceress,” Cirano correctly surmised, “She draws her power from an ancestor within her lineage. They are fairly rare but are quite unique. Tell me my dear, what legendary creature involved itself with your family? Do you know?”

M was slightly offended by the blunt inquiry but held her tongue, “My mother always claimed that there was dragon blood in our family, but—“

“Mm… I see, that would make sense,” the aged man exclaimed.

“We need to do something about ‘Dorian’ here,” Ryahl returned their conversation to the present situation, “Just how long does that charm spell last?”

“Charmed,” a dopey sounding voice emanated from the guard with a half-hearted chuckle as he looked longingly at the sorceress.

“I’ve not been able to prolong the effects for more than an hour previously,” she replied.

A massive half-orc fist sailed into the soldier’s temple, sending him tumbling to the floor in a heap. Worried expressions turned quickly to Barriddon as the initial shock of the action wore off.

“Ooh! That’ll last more than an hour,” Furr laughed aloud.

“Barriddon, your reckless actions nearly cost us our one cha—“Cirano tried to assert himself but was interrupted.

“No, my reckless actions gave us the push we needed to actually do something. You’d be surprised what people can do when they are desperate; as we’ve just seen,” he turned a dark smile towards M to which she felt a chill down her spine, “Now, let’s bind these morons in their own manacles and get the hell out of here.”

Though the group was still sore over the unorthodox tactics of the half-orc, they could not dispute his logic. They secured the two unconscious guards with their bindings, liberated the men’s weapons and armor before tearing some of their uniform cloth to gag them in the event of their awakening, locking the cell door behind them.

“Alright, dwarf, can you scout ahead and see if you can locate the armory and the barracks, we’ll need to secure better equipment and ensure the guards that are kept out of commission,” the half-orc calmly directed as he tightened his straps of the stolen, human-sized guard uniform as best he could.

Red offered a rude gesture with his finger at the man before nodding and quietly marching off.

“I’ll go as well,” Cirano said, to everyone’s surprise, “With access to spell components, I’ll not be a hindrance any longer.”

He pulled a few reagents from the pouch at his hip and whispered a few words. The aged man’s form vanished from sight, though M did notice the man’s sandals leaving imprints in the dusty stone floor.

“And what about us,” Furr said enthusiastically, clearly enjoying the life-or-death situation far more than any logically-minded creature should.

The half-orc smiled widely, “Did you notice how quiet it is?”

As he mentioned it, the others looked around and nodded as they came to the same realization: the ogre had stopped snoring.

“You want to release the ogre,” Ryahl stated as much as asked.

“He would be a powerful ally,” he reasoned.

“Or kill us all,” the blonde-haired man said without missing a beat.

Barriddon snorted derisively and stepped forward confidently towards the cell at the end of the hall; resigning to the half-orc’s lead, the others quickly followed suit.

“Great beast, stand before me,” Barriddon called as he stood by the door, wisely choosing to avoid initially opening the gate.

M gave an audible gasp as hands the size of a full-grown Halfling wrapped around the bars and pulled the enormous figure into the light. He was not a horrific creature, to be sure as he possessed a reddish tanned complexion with a greasy mop of jet black hair and barely visible in that mess protruded two small horns. Towering over the seven-foot half-orc, the ogre was crammed into its cell, having to contort its ten, perhaps even eleven, feet tall body to appropriately address the newcomers.

“What’s da little un’s want wit Grumblejack now,” his voice rumbled low, his expression still groggy.

“We’re not with the guards, Grumblejack,” Barriddon affirmed, “We’re breaking out of this prison.”

The ogre looked confused, “Youse still little un’s. All little un’s is tricky, no can trust. Easier just to squish.”

Barriddon sighed and drew his longsword from the stolen scabbard on his waist, brandishing it at the captive ogre.

“Look, ogre… You have two choices, come with us and crush the ‘little un’s’ we tell you to, or rot in here and wait for the guards to decide how you die.”

Grumblejack chuckled deeply, sounding like the beginning of an avalanche.

“Little un’s kilt all my frien’s an’ youse no diff’rn’t. If Grumblejack get out, he crush youse first. Hehehe.”

“But we go with the blessing of Asmodeus,” came the unexpected voice of Furr, rushing to the bars of the cell, “I am a chosen one of the Prince of Nessus!”

“What are you doing,” Barriddon barked at the Halfling.

“Roll with it,” she hissed under her breath before returning her attention to the ogre who had fully locked his gaze on the curious diminutive woman, “Behold my power!”

She whispered an incantation, which M could’ve sworn Furr stated something more along the lines of pure gibberish, and magical sparks appeared, bursting mid-air into colorful puffs of smoke with floating embers descending to the ground. The cantrip was simplistic, something that she had seen apprentice and street wizards back in Ghastenhall perform for children. Barriddon looked down at her with utter disdain as he ran his hand over his face though his expression shifted to confusion immediately as the ogre fell on its rump, clawing to get away from such “awe-inspiring power”.

“No more! No! Grumblejack follow tiny un’! Assmodayoos strong! No more magic!”

Ryahl and M made a titanic effort to stifle their laughter as the impish Furr stood triumphantly with Barriddon’s shoulders slumped in resignation. He opened the large cell’s gate, granting the ogre its “freedom” to serve “The Chosen One”.

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Cirano, concealed by magic, kept watch in the hall as Red began his work on the door they presumed to be the armory using a length of wire they had procured earlier from their search. Of the five doors in the main hall within the primary complex, they had visited four: one being a complex lock that Red simply shrugged and chose to move on from, the large doors at the end which led to the courtyard, one leading to the kitchen where servants prepared for the next day’s meal for the staff and two others. Behind the fourth door, the pair had discovered the disturbingly loud snoring of those off-duty soldiers in the barracks and on Cirano’s insistence they simply barricaded the portal from the outside and moved on to the final door. He could hear talking between patrolling guards out in the courtyard, drawing forth a nervous bead of sweat from his forehead.

“Please hurry, good dwarf,” Cirano said under his breath.

Evidently, despite the dwarf’s apparent inability to speak, his hearing was quite acute, as he outstretched one hand into the same rude gesture that he had flashed to Barriddon previously while never taking his focus off of the lock on which he had been working.

“Spectacular,” the wizard sighed, rolling his eyes.

In that moment an audible click was heard and Red, wearing an overly prideful expression, cautiously opened the wooden door. The pair entered what appeared to be an officer’s quarters, likely the intolerable Blackerly’s office. As the duration of his invisibility magic was beginning to fade, the wizard dismissed the effects and shortly produced a mystical light from the palm of his hand that bathed the room in its soft warm glow.

“Let’s see what that bloated toad is hiding in here,” he murmured as he began to inspect the man’s desk.

Numerous useless documents and papers were scattered about, though one particular item did steal his interest: a small unmarked leather-bound book.

“My, my, I would never have pegged the dear Sergeant-at-Arms to be so thorough in recording his earnings,” he read the ledger aloud to himself as much as to the dwarf currently digging through Blackerly’s bed, “Bribes, extortion, gambling… the list goes on and on.”

A soft jingling noise stole his attention as the wizard turned to regard the dwarf who now held a modestly sized leather bag and a single key that he spun around a finger with a wild toothy grin. Cirano examined the contents of the bag, his eyes going wide as he saw what he assumed to be over a thousand gold inside.

“He’s been busy, I suppose. It’s not really stealing if you’re stealing from a thief, right,” the wizard said gleefully before shifting his gaze to the key, “and that?”

Red triumphantly marched his way back into the hall, Cirano carefully shadowing him, and shoved the key into the lock of the only other door they had been unable to enter previously. As the door swung open revealing the abundance of equipment and weapons within what was clearly the armory, Cirano smiled and patted the positively beaming dwarf on the shoulder.


 
 
 

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