Tarwin was amount the last to leave the dungeon, everyone who had the strength to move was now free and the guards had been cleared out of the dungeon floor. "Onto the barracks and from there freedom!" He cheered as he let the other prisoners pass him by, patting them on the back and giving words of encouragement and direction, no sense him putting himself in needless danger after all. Following the crowd his eyes glanced off to a sturdy looking side door, he glanced at the set of keys, shrugging slightly as he looked down the corridor to see his cell mates storming a gate that lead to the barracks, plenty of time to sneak a peak inside he thought as he began trying the keys.

After a little while the door flung open and Tarwin grinned a little seeing the prize within. The mass of food within the store room ranged from simple bread and cheese to cooked meats. He licked his lips and stepped inside and hungrily bit into a loaf of bread, then he moved quickly to some chicken, slightly aged but still good, finally he washed the meal down with a bottle of wine he'd found hidden behind three bags of flour, most likely snuck in by one of the guards for an especially boring shift. Half emptied bottle in hand, the spell sword made his way back to the main group, passing the ruins of the gate and several groaning and deceased guards the young man soon made his way to the barracks and from there the storage room. "Ah! So this is where you guys went!" He smiled, his words slightly slurred as he set about looking for his things, he put the wine bottle on top of a chest as he found his gear.

As fast as he could in his mildly intoxicated state Tarwin dressed himself in his old cloths, put on his belt, slid his sword into it's scabbard, threw his poncho over his shoulders, adjusted his eyepatch slightly and slung his bag over his shoulder. He heard someone ask what was next and he smiled, taking the bottle in one hand and taking a long swing before climbing onto a chest to get attention. "Ladies, gentlemen, beasts and royalty!" He shouted, pointing his finger around the room to each of the ones he mentioned. "You are each no doubt wondering where you shall go now, well, worry not! I am in need of brave companions to assist me in a lucrative quest! We leave the city as fleeing fugitives, find and loot some ruins and then return as wealthy fortune seekers!" While he was no longer in possession of the guide he had got a good look at the location of the ruins, he was also fairly confident that he wouldn't be able to do it alone but if it really was an unexplored set of ruins the treasure inside would be worth enough to entice people.

The wounded noble man seemed as if he knew the dungeon well on one hand and was honest enough to admit who he is on the other hand, so Shorus followed him and rammed the oak door per the man's request. The door was strong and fortified but not good enough to withstand a minotaurs powerful charge attack. It flew off the axles and smashed the group of guards that were standing behind it.
Shorus then charged into the room with a tremendous roar, sending the younger guards into a shock. Of course the more experienced guards were not impressed and reached for their weapons..
The fight was short and violent, despite the noble man's request, Shorus couldn't let the armed warriors to cut his head off, he grew attached to it! At the end all the guards except one were lying on the floor dead. The remaining young guard didn't attack Shorus, he ran into a closet and hide instead, so the minotaur didn't see the point in killing him. Instead Shorus notified the wounded noble man about the young boy in the closet and went to search for his belongings.
First Shorus found his light armor, it was hanged on the wall as a trophy. Shorus took the armor off the wall and wore it. His pair of heavy axes were lying on the floor in one of the rooms, it seems the guards been using them as a couple of small tables. Shorus took his axes and hanged them behind his back on a steel chain that served him as a weapon belt. He then smelled the air.. " My waxing stone.." he said as he opened one of the drawers. A small purse with a mineral oil stone and a few coins was lying inside. Shorus took the purse and hanged it on his waste. He then returned to the main room, passing the guards dinning room on the way and grabbing a roasted boar from the table. Shorus devoured the boar within few seconds and then stood near the small man that was convincing everybody to go to the ruins. Shorus roared directly at the man's face, sending the man into a slight shock. " Big words from one who didn't fight! Shorus says we go to the forest to rest and organize!" bellowed the minotaur.

---

Her iron shackles were removed with an ironic ease, the poisonous metal clattering uselessly to the cobblestone and reflex bid her flinch back from the offending shackles, and she was entirely grateful to the beast despite all his bluster and bellow. His baritone was a deep timbre that shot through her bones when he commanded that she fall behind him, but Kylmi wasn't about to complain from the literal shield he would provide in the onslaught. The iron festering within her blood burned and boiled with every trembling inhale that scored through her lungs in shards of hellish pain, her clawed hands darkened and coloured in a bark-ish brunette wove and gingerly clasped around her wrists reddened and blistered from the cuffs. They were raw from the insidious clasps, thorns having been eaten away literally by a near acidic reaction, the same condition slowly beginning to decompose the corners of her infamous, sinful mouth and the joints of her ankles riddled with tines. The Nymph shuffled after the charging ebonette bull, cradling her wounds to her chest, using the charred, downy fur to comfort and cushion any jolt or shock of impact during the raid.

The air was permeated with the after tangs of magic from every respective caster, and she felt awed and inspired by their attempts though she could not summon the thorns on her delicate joints or even manage a call to any dead, forgotten plant life wallowing away beneath the stone, she felt utterly useless. Kylmi stumbled, caught her fall against the brunt of the crumbling corridor and allowed her breath to catch as everyone paused for the split second to decide on their trajectory. Eyes dimmed by the constant thrum of agony, she cast her eyes in a not so subtle rake down the well defined form of the man who was poisoned just as she was, a prince, fallen from grace; degraded to his bare extremities and that in its self was a rather curious sight. Muscles and sinew illustrated into a near warrior perfection, the same detailing could be proffered to the evlish kin and other forms of man when they followed after his charge and her brow quirked.

Well, well. Not a bad view.

Even in the throes of her anguish, Kylmi laughed to herself with the chortle ending in a whistle of a wince, making her lips form in a scowl and her eyes to clench shut. But then there was a commotion, a squelch of flesh peeling and rent open by the fall of a monstrous talon, the plop of the dead receding into nothing; so easily dispatched by the brute strength of her aforementioned liberator. The Nymph did not mind the blood dotting her skin, the startling contrast of scarlet decorating the fur of her breast and waist, his roar was a cry meant to instill fear but she was not afraid. His open arms and talons were darkened by the life of their jailers and she smiled at that, thankful that her former torturers were falling under the revenge of their captives; thieves, murderers, mere exotic attractions and those mistaken for fugitives. Despite the pretty speech their token royalty had given, she cared not for it, these people had hurt her, their deaths made her heart pound in glee.

Kylmi stared up at the glowing eyes boring down onto her and flinched at the voice booming across her cranium, she didn't see any gender specifications under all the plate of his exterior, but the tone in her mind was the inflection of male. Not that she cared, Kylmi would gladly leap upon the arms of the slender elvish girls if they had offered their assistance too. His stance was aggressive, and any other individual might have been wary and fearful of his impression, but she merely beamed a grateful simper and graciously relinquished herself to his awaiting embrace.

"Thank you, you glorious beast you," she said, planting her chapped lips upon the ridged and rough hide of what she could only assume as his cheek.

There others were retreating into the barracks once the Minotaur charged through the door like it was nothing. Kylmi clasped her arms tightly upon the insectoid and waited when everyone began donning their gears and threads, she watched of course and noticed she wasn't the only one considering the reptile's rather awkward stare. She admired their skin and flawless physiques and glanced down at herself whittling away the more they stayed here within the dark. The evlish women, one of white and the other of shadows spoke in their elegant cadences and she frowned at that. Kylmi did not have any possessions here, for what valuables she had once possessed had been left behind at her traitorous lover's bed and those were nothing more than practical wears and she was sure by now they had been sold for meager coin at the market, or burned. But she also did not know where to go from here, sensible decisions bid that she return home to the woods but she couldn't imagine bringing with her the onslaught of the royal guards, the imagery of her home once again being pillaged tore at her heart and she ducked her head for a moment.

"I need to get outside," she murmured quietly, lifting her eyes to the glowing ones of her mount before finally speaking up, her voice was edged in a feral panic, the ends of her hair continuing to curl and rot with her dwindling time. "Whatever you are planning to do, loves, we must do it quickly! Some of us do not have much time." The Nymph cared not for treasures though the story was fantastical at best, her glassy stare swept towards the black furred bull.
"They will expect us to retreat to the woods, I know the forest of Uchfos well, but I doubt they'll simply forget such prizes as the many of you and just let you go. " Kylmi felt her hope diminish, she was once again homeless in this cruel blemish of fate.

"But whatever it is that must be done, I only wish to see the sun again, I'll go with you, just so long as I leave this horrid place behind." Her grip tightened upon the blood drenched chitin of her beast, desperation colouring her face pale.

With the antlered one cradled safely in his lower arms, 9 began to advance out towards the exit while idly catching words about adventures and parties. 9 filtered it out, the antlered one said she needed out and by the queen he was going to get her out. His talons were a whirlwind of carnage as his tail knocked men off their feet, letting him stomp their faces into oblivion. 9 didn't care what the web chested men said, they contributed to his suffering just because he was some "beast", some monster to be ridiculed and shamed. It infuriated him to no end, he wasn't a prize to be hunted and shown off. He was a warrior and his roar would be heard.

However he slowed down after running ahead of everyone, realizing he was losing himself in his anger. Giving a couple of clicks, 9 calmed down and took stock of the situation. The others seemed more interested in gaining back whatever possessions they seemed to have entered with, 9 guessed not all could have been lucky to have been born with armor. The beef man seemed to be the most heavily armed of them, with massive metal...things that he guessed could cleave through men just as easily as he could. The web chested man was still naked, which 9 had no problem with... well except 9 kept his bits hidden away behind chitin, he wasn't a savage. 9 didn't care much for the others, they seemed even more engrossed in whatever they were doing.

However his wagon of thought was interrupted by the sound of pounding feet and clinking metal. Turning around, 9 was met with almost a dozen faces. None of them particularly happy. Seeing that many weapons pointed at him, 9 hesitated. If they antlered one wasn't in his arms then he could possibly make it through, if he tired really hard. If only he had enough time to evolve, he could have made someway to get past them. Shrugging, 9 knew that this would be tricky and most definitely fatiguing. Summoning all of his mind power, 9's eyes began to not just glow, but positively shine as power coursed through his crown. Opening his mouth, 9 let fourth an ungodly screech as the light flooded out of his mouth. The sound from his mouth was piercing, the sound that entered the minds of the soldiers was even more so.

Dropping their weapons and clutching their heads, the men began to sport bloody noses as 9's mental assault smashed their resolves. Soon after the men slumped over, unconscious and possible irreparable damage to their fragile minds, but alive. However the mental roar took just as much a toll on 9 as it did them as he fell to a knee. With labored breaths 9 stood their, kneeling as his strength struggled to return to him. Shaking his head side to side, he remembered that he still had a charge to look after and stood back up. With the new wave dealt with, 9 was forced to take a slow pace towards the exit.

Rin couldn't help but stare at the large Chitin monster in awe while the others rummaged through their things. The sounds of weapons being holstered and armor being donned by the many fugitives that resided in these dark cobbled walls were drowned out by the look of trust the tiny nymph lady gave the hulking chitin beast. He's seen few nymph in his lifetime in the forests and none were so brave to trust anyone or anything other than the forest itself. He couldn't believe his eyes when she was swept up so delicately by the beast and couldn't help but give a big toothy smile the way any lizard could without much lip.

Momentarily distracted by the sheer nakedness of the blue veined man led Rin to grab a nearby set of trousers left by some inmate who didn't survive the nights in the cell before the raid and offered it along with one of his pouches filled with herbs. "Here, take these skins from Rin and eat its contents. If won't get rid of the blue, but it will help." He said gesturing by dipping his finger in the green muck and eating some. He dared not tell him how he made it since the taste and smell would make him reluctant either way but he knew it would help and it was the least he could do.

Most were ready, armored and making their way out as Rin dallied about with the others until he noticed near the exit was the hulking beast ahead of most, he was suprisingly fast and ultimately managed to get ahead of most which wasn't really a good idea, especially for the nymph. Met by many guards the beast let out a loud shreik that echoed his ferlings of anger, hate, and pain. Rin couldn't help but feel epmathy in his emotional roar as Rin took a deep breath and for the first time since the jailbreak grew silent and darted off as fast and agile as he could when he saw the hulking beast fall to one knee.

"No! Get up!" Rin roared in a gutteral growl as he used foot, claw and tail to nimbly make his way through the crowded hallway, even running on the cobblestone walls by gripping the stones with the claws on his feet and shoving off towards the opposite wall like a large scaled pinball defying gravity. Rin threw his staff at the closest guard like a javelin and heard the distinctive *crack* as it shattered the mans jaw. Using his speed, agility and vast knowledge of hit and run tactics he darted back and forth the dazed guards yanking on their necks to break them, jumping up a nearby wall and coming back down with jowels wide open, he opened anothers jugular with his teeth and catching yet anothers foot with sharp claws that yanked them down with a passing glance. Climbing the opposite wall and lunging once again repeating the process. Showing the true ability of his instincts he managed to finish off the first line of guards within a matter of seconds. "Get up!" He hissed behind him as the blood dripped from his teeth and claw. "Rin cannot keep this up much longer." He said with a heavy pant. His body was fast and nimble but not designed for extended combat. He usually hunts one maybe two beasts at a time. Not a pack of them with swords and axes.

The dungeon's meagre garrison of failed sellswords, thugs and retired soldiers lay in mangled heaps about the barracks. Mundhir, despite the throbbing pain threatening to implode his skull, was lucid enough to feel great shame. The guards of the dungeon may not have been the most honourable of knights, or the most fabled of warriors, but they were his kinsmen - his father's servants. His words of restraint had fallen on deaf ears, and when threatened with violence, the group had responded with total destruction.

The Prince recoiled as the rasping Lizard approached him from his blindside, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to plunge his sabre into the creature's face.

"Here, take these skins from Rin and eat its contents. If won't get rid of the blue, but it will help," it said as it dipped its finger into a mossy concoction of herbs.

"Away from me, Lizard," sneered Mundhir, stepping away. "I've enough of alchemy for a life time."

The group were busy searching the evidence and plunder boxes for their equipment, and the Prince felt his pride welt a little to realise that selling a prisoner's belongings was obviously widespread amongst the dungeon's guards. Mundhir considered it an ill business to steal from anyone, especially before they had received their final judgement. Once he was out of his dilema, he would have words with his father concerning the lapse of Eblistani morals within the Citadel's soldiery.

A young man with an eye patch had mentioned the possibility of fleeing into ruins; another of the group, one of nature's servants, had spoken of the retiring to Uchfos Forest. Mundhir stared at the little she-creature for more moments than was proper, and felt soothed and unnerved by her presence in equal nature. It was not befitting of men to keep the company of the forest folk - they were a strange peoples, always embroiling in misdeeds and moral heresy. Some would call them beautiful and innocent. He would call them creatures that should have remained beyond the Spine.

The doors leading to the torture chambers burst open suddenly, as the group were reacquainting themselves with their stolen gear, in rushed a dozen Eblistani guardsmen. Mundhir was determined to save them, to reason with them. They would know his face, they would lower their weapons. The guards had surrounded the nightmare-beast of the underworld, as it cradled the forest wench, and were preparing to put an end to its ungodly existence. The Prince concurred with their actions, though did not convey as much, and stood back.

Before his kinsmen could destroy the monster, they collapsed with bleeding ears and noses. Mundhir knew right away that the chitin plated being possessed more than just physical horrors - it was slaughtering them within the confines of their own mind. A most dishonourable form of combat, and one the Prince would not sanction. Before he could bring his sabre onto the head of the monster, it stopped its assault, and his kinsmen stopped riling in agony. He paused his attack, and turned. No matter what circumstances had befallen him, he was well past the point of preparing to offer his assistance to a bunch of murderers.

"Find your own way out, you savages," he uttered.

With a slight stumble in his step, he made his way into the torture chambers. A long corridor met his eyes, and it was lined with the bright fire of a dozen torches. Every ten feet down the walkway was a simple wooden door on the left and the right; these contained the interrogation rooms. Even a wise and kind Caliph such as his father needed more than kind ways to grasp the truth of a situation, and what lay in those nightmarish rooms of torment was testament of this fact.

He walked onwards, noting that the others had started to take after him. It was unlikely they'd let him escape. If he could just reach the passage-way at the end of the hall, then he could take his leave and shut them in.

One of the doors opened abruptly, and a tall man clad in heavy mail stepped into the corridor. Slowly, he turned to face the Prince, calmly drawing his enchanted sabre as he did so. Mundhir knew the man as a World Breaker - the elite warriors of Eblistan. He had led those troops many times when his father had given battle to Nillanor on the borderlands. They often wore magically enhanced armour, and used weapons forged from the finest steel the Citadel could afford. With such treasures, they were a deadly force feared all over Eulona.

"Stand down, brother," said Mundhir. "It is I, your prince."

"I know who you are, little whelp," retorted a voice of pure iron.

"Then stand down," Mundhir barked with growing impatience, "or I'll have you lashed a dozen ti-"

"I don't heed the words of dead men, nor do I heed the words of my sworn enemies!"

The World Breaker thundered down the corridor; his heavy plated boots crashing into stone as they pumped with unnatural speed. The Prince, as ill as he was, stood little chance. Oddly, he thought how foolish he'd been to take up the robes of nudity in favour of pillaging armour from his dead kinsmen. The move had seemed decent and moral at the time, but now he felt hopelessly stupid.

The World Breaker's sabre came down, and Mundhir brought his up to meet it with a fraction of his renowned speed. There was a large crash, as his enemy's superior weapon shattered the dulled steel carried by the dungeon's guards. The air shimmered with two dozen fragments of metal, but before they had hit the ground, the Prince had removed himself from the World Breaker's follow-up swing.

"Run little Prince, run home to your friends," the hulking titan chuckled through a grated visor. "It will take more than an oversized cow and an Elf with a few tricks to protect you from me."

The Prince, ever believing in the honour of fighting to the death, threw down his lifelong beliefs and ran back towards the barracks. His legs felt heavy with the after effects of Ice Venom, but it was enough to outrun his would-be murderer.

"Steel yourselves!" he yelled, falling through the door into a clumsy heap. He quickly crawled towards the nearest chest and reached for a pair of britches. If he was going to die today at the hands of a traitor, he was going to die at least half dressed!

---

“Not up for a little action, Ms? Being alive's no fun if you don't feel it. A good long fight and some cat-and-mouse is good for the soul. Either way, I'm not leaving 'til I got a dozen after me and a fainted lady. Don't know after that.” An elf nearby said.

“Ha,” she scoffed, “Not all of us are so eager for attention,” She didn’t mean it as in insult, almost admiring his ability to make light of their dire situation. Taking this brief time of respite to load a bolt into her crossbow, she frowned at the amount left in her quiver. Damn guards sold most of them. She rummaged around the barracks some more, but couldn’t find anything besides standard long bow arrows. Of all the times to have compounding hindrances, this would have to be one of the worst. Nessa briefly contemplated searching for a long bow to use in the mean time, but her thoughts were interrupted.

Someone else offered a proposal for a new plan of action, but his drunken slur discredited his idea. Rolling her eyes at his enthusiastic sales pitch, Nessa sighed. They really didn’t have time for this. The Minotaur spoke next, suggesting they go to the forest. It wasn’t a terrible idea, but the alluring nymph pointed out it’s flaws. There was no way the pursuit would end once they made it into the forest. Even so, they had no where else to run.

Their discussion was cut short as there seemed to be other complications at hand. As he saw the monsters slaughter more of his men, the prince lost his tolerance and wanted to leave them to their own devices. The rest of them lacked the background knowledge to navigate the dungeons, and they couldn’t even dream of getting to the forest unless they made it out of here first. They had no choice but to follow him. “There’s no way in hell he’s abandoning us. If his men had a shred of loyalty left for him, he wouldn’t even be here in the first place. Some prince he is.”

Nessa trailed behind him, but kept her distance. As he staggered down a long corridor, a new adversary appeared. The prince tried to dissuade the warrior, but his effort was futile. Nessa dropped back toward the barracks, drawing her weapon as the disarmed prince retreated past her.

“Well this is lovely,” she spat through gritted teeth. Enveloping her body in a sea of shadows once more, she stepped towards a wall. Not wanting to make herself a direct target, she didn’t shoot until the others began the attack first. After her first shot, she’d have to reload again. She could then try to sprint forward and slip past him to shoot from behind, where there would probably be more openings. Seeing how he had destroyed the prince’s weapon, Nessa assumed their foe had enchanted armor as well as weapons. That or he was incredibly strong. Or both. Either way, it would be hard to pierce through his armor and do any damage.

If the others distracted him enough, Nessa could probably even make it past him without ever having to join the fray.

Tarwin stepped off the box he was using as a podium, taking another sip from the wine and nearly finishing it, the inmates were not as enthusiastic as he would have liked. "Fine then, guess we can focus on finishing our escape before planning what happens next." But who amount them knew the way out? The two beasts had likely come in chains and if he followed either of them then they'd probably just get lost in a maze of corridors or make a new exit. He assumed that the others had been kept in the cell longer than he had so were unlikely to remember the way they'd been taken by the guards. There was one possibility, that prince, it was his citadel, surely he knew the layout.

With a sly smile stretching across his face he took off after the prince, staying just far enough back to avoid being detected. He was well aware he wasn't the only one stalking the would be heir, an elf was on the prowl as well but she appeared to almost disappear into the shadows and he even wondered if it was the wine making him see things. 'I wasn't always such a lightweight.' He smirked at his joke as he continued along.

Suddenly a figure approached the prince, clad all in armour and apparently in a very bad mood for some reason. Was this the mighty jailor? Come to restore law and order? Slowly Tarwin drew his blade, it flashed red as the dip became imbued with the power of fire and he swung it around dramatically before holding it out in front of him in an aggressive and confident stance. "Now now, a captain of the guard in a full suit of armour against one malnourished prince? I hardly think that's fair, and I gamble from time to time so I know about fair." He shot the armoured man a large grin. "Now you against me that's a little more evan and fair don't you think?" He hoped that elf was still hiding, ready to launch a sneak attack when the opportunity arose, they were all in this together and he prayed that the elf would realise a victory here was in all their best interests if they wanted to escape. He waved the wine bottle out in front of him, keeping up the smile. "Tell you what, you stand aside and let me outta here and I'll give you the rest of this, it's real good stuff."

Shorus opened his mouth to defend his plan that was criticized by the nymph or as he called her 'The antlered forest lady', but then he heard steel crashing and the lizard shouting "Get up!" outside the barracks. Shorus grabbed his heavy axes and ran out. As upon exiting the barracks from the opposite side , Shorus immediately saw the lizard-man trying to hold back the attacking guards while the creature with the '9' on his forehead is kneeling fatigued while holding the forest lady. Shorus's first thought was to charge the guards but he was afraid to squish his friends in the process, so instead he raised his left axe and ran into the space between the wall and the collapsed insectoid.
The mighty Minotaur dropped his heavy axe directly on the head of the guard who was holding a raised sabre above '9'. Afterwards Shorus pushed '9' together with the nymph he was holding backwards towards the barracks. "Take the giant insect and the forest lady and run back to the barracks!! shouted the Minotaur towards the lizard-man.
After that Shorus charged the attacking guards with full strength, his axes were working as a well balanced pair, protecting from one side, attacking from the other, crashing and chopping. The guards bodies piled up in the hallway like stones in a barricade . But there were just to much guards. Shorus couldn't continue in that rhythm. With one last burst of energy the Minotaur pushed the attacking guards backwards and then crushed the foundations of the hallway walls, making the walls to collapse at this particular point, burying the guards and barely avoiding being buried alive himself. On his way back to the barracks Shorus grabbed the fatigued chitin creature together with the forest lady that was still holding to him from the hands of the lizard-man who was struggling to push them back to the barracks and the four of them entered the barracks together.
The wounded noble man was just calling for everyone to steel themselves, his eyes were full of fear and surprise. "I guess he found out his old friends are not that friendly.." thought Shorus while adjusting a steel plate to his big head and finding the medicine cabinet by scent.

As the lizard-man who called himself Rin spoke she smiled, "I'm done..."

She glanced at the green eyed elf and frowned, "You know... most of us don't but... you don't look so good. That magic stuff takes it out of you, huh?"

As the Chitin monster was beset by Guards Aevah was distracted from her conversation and prepped for a fight, but he surprised them all by handling most on his own, aside from those that Rin took care of... Apparently, their need for survival clashed with the Prince's sense of morality though. Aevah sighed at the Princes ire, he could afford to be upset with them whereas they could not afford leniency towards Guards aiming to kill them. If they had the time to fight until the Guards yielded or they were able to incapacitate them they'd be surrounded by more in no time. The simple fact of the matter is that though she disliked it, it was they or the Guards and she was sure all the others felt the same. She would not kill those who stood down but as of yet, she hadn't noticed any who had made that choice when confronted with their paltry little group... it was obvious they were on their last leg. Many of them were wounded or exhausted from days of starvation and dehydration, some were poisoned and dying. Why stand down to those you thought had no chance?

His rudeness toward Rin irritated her though, "He is only trying to help and by the looks of you, you shouldn't be so high and mighty as to refuse..."

She shook her head as he walked off, intent on leaving them behind. She understood his feelings, she would not want to witness her own people being slaughtered either... but what choice did they have.

She glanced at Tarwin as he spoke about his quest and smiled, any other time she'd be right on any kind of trip for potential treasure but they were going to be hunted the entire time they were hunting those goods. "Ask me again once we're out of here and I'll consider it..."

When the Nymph woman spoke about heading into the woods Aevah frowned, "I'd rather not endanger the small villages there... one of them is my home... but taking a rest there may not be a bad idea. I'm sure you would know your way around well, and I do also... we could find a place deep in to regroup."

After discussing options the others began following after him, he WAS the only one who knew the way out and which doors would be locked or which would have many Guards behind them. Aevah knew what she planned on doing... if they could get out of here she would rest with the others for a time. Perhaps she would even travel with them if they moved along her intended route... maybe if they proved worth a bit of trust she'd include them in her plans. Either way, she was headed to Nillanor. If she stayed in Eblistan then she ran the risk of dying a traitor's death anyway. At least in Nillanor she could offer up her services to the army there, the fact that she was half elf and had information on one of Eblistan's Princes couldn't hurt either. She was not usually so underhanded, she minded her own but taking care of herself came first on her list... She'd do what she had to do to survive. If the Prince, by some miracle, decided that his family's betrayal was enough to drive him to joining her then maybe the Elves would even have a cure for his poison...

She had not long to ponder this course of action though, a large heavily armored man stepped into view. She'd heard of them, World Breakers, she knew enough to be very worried for their little group of would be escape artists. The hall was a bad place to be, other than the doors one either side, it bottlenecked and left only two directions to go... Either back to the Barracks or straight at the huge thing that now took up most of the space in front of the door that was their probable way out. Back came the prince and those that had been closest to him and Aevah moved into a corner. If the chance came, she would attack from out of immediate view, no way was she trying to slip past that thing. It's reach was impressive and that blade had just broken another blade, she'd prefer NOT to get trapped between it and a wall.

The largest beings in their group would probably be their best defense against this thing, someone as tiny as she with no magical ability aside from one that could render her helpless, would do very little good against this thing... Neither would her arrows. She'd have to stay out of his way and watch for weak points in his armor, test his speed, try and dodge in and out of its range to see where or even if it's enchantments had a weak point. Either way... this didn't look good for any of them.

Kyrtaar leaned against the closet door, trying to hide his exhaustion as a careless demeanor. ""You know... most of us don't but... you don't look so good. That magic stuff takes it out of you, huh?" Kyrtaar turned to look at the Half-Elf, and spoke. "My powers uh, are a bit drained. I just need to get under the the open sky." He smiled, wearily. After, he looked at the now drunken sellsword as he pitched his proposal to plunder ruins. It was a enticing offer, but he'd bite his tongue on being over eager to steal from the dead. He had an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and this brush with death had left him pondering on trying to find a way to achieve immortality. As a young Elf, he knew he had hundreds of years of life, before death, and selling his soul for power was an enticing offer. But he realized that no one could out wait celestial beings as a mortal. He would have to try and find a way to push back the taking of his soul. Kyrtaar would talk to Tarwin later.

Next, the minotaur suggested they head to the forest. An understandable option. Lots of places to hide, possibly ambush the guards. Food, water if you knew where to look. However, the forest creature offered council against it. Kyrtaar found his gaze lingering on her form. Even in Autumn, during the death of living things, that natural world found ways to be beautiful. Kyrtaar looked away, biting his thumb. It was no secret that Elves often met and dealt with fae and other forest spirits and creatures. But it was also a well known fact that not only men possessed black hearts, and man certainly did not have the lifespan or memory of the forest. Kyrtaar would have to exercise caution with her, but he found common ground with her desire to be under the sun. The Half Elf offered some worthy advice on the forest plan. It may be a village or tribe that Kyrtaar had interacted with.

Kyrtaar watched the creature carrying the nymph turn and leave, rather suddenly. The naked prince was visibly sulking. The small lizard offered him some alchemical cure, but the man denied it. Pride was also a powerful poison to swallow. In a heartbeat, several men burst in to attack the creature, and were quickly cut down with but a scream. The effort visibly taxed the beast, and the lizard, and minotaur came rushing to his aid. During this hectic moment, Kyrtaar lost sight of the prince, who turned and left. After a few moments, the minotaur brought the tunnel crumbling down, in an impressive display of strength and force.

Kyrtaar turned, and realized three members were missing. Kyrtaar stopped his lean, and felt light headed for a moment, as he steadied himself on the wall. He took a few steps as the prince came rushing back in, shouting, and grabbing a pair of pants. Kyrtaar quickened his pace out the door, and spotted the hulking man, easily a head taller than himself. With the minotaur distracted currently, and the other large creature obviously incapacitated as a fighter from the attack, he saw no quick answer to the man. He did not recognize the being's military stature, as the Elves of Kyrtaar's village rarely interacted with military units, but he could plainly see everyone giving him a wide berth.

The man was plodding down the runway, obviously quite certain in his ability to kill them. Kyrtaar stood his ground, and his eyes took on their bright glow. It was going to completely drain him to deal with this, but, he saw no other recourse. He channeled the Eldritch energy into his hand. As he stepped forward, he felt an intense, vulcanic heat in his arm, rippling with solar energy out of his hand. The green ball was big, and hit with the force of a sledgehammer, easily enough to kill a man. Not clad in magic resistant armor. The blast released a heat, and shockwave that could be felt at their end of the hall, releasing a cloud of green vapor.

For a moment, Kyrtaar thought he had killed the man outright, but after a few seconds, the man came plodding through, laughing. His armor, was largely intact, save for a hole in his chest plate a few inches across, the direct point of impact. The skin was seared red a bit from the heat, but largely unmarred. Kyrtaar let out a deep sigh, and took a step back, before falling flat on his back, entirely, and utterly exhausted. He croaked out. "Need... sunlight."

This were getting bad, it would take awhile for the guards to make their way through the rubble but it wouldn't matter. The voice of the mind was a major drain on 9, in fact he was surprised it worked at all since he wasn't even a praetorian. To say he was proud of himself would be an understatement, however that soon was dashed by the arrival of a large warrior. The new arrival was going to be a huge problem, he proved his strength by breaking the sword of web chest and then his durability by shrugging off the magic with a laugh. The man kept moving forwards, but his armor wasn't without faults.

The pointy eared magic one had taken a small piece of armor out of the equation. Originally he couldn't have dreamed of getting through the armor, he just didn't have the talons specialized for piercing and he wasn't old enough to become a praetorian. However with the addition of a small hole, 9 had a chance to get through him. Looking down to his hands, he knew he couldn't do this with the antlered one in his arms, gently he put her down and said "I apologize antlered one, but you will need to lay here for a moment. I will be back soon." However he wasn't as sure on that as he hoped he was.

With a grunt, 9 activated the emergency adrenal glands located around his body. As the liquid strength flooded his body, 9 released a mighty roar and charged. Faster than he had ever been before he crashed into the large man and plunged his talon deep into the hole. Unfortunately it didn't go as deep as was planned, only going several inches in his chest. Taking his hammer, the man slammed it into the talon. Then again, and again until finally it broke off. The pain was immense, the stump exploded with the fires of exposed synapses. Reeling back, 9 brought his crested head down on the man repeatedly until it popped.

Now it was time for his real plan to come to fruition. Summoning up his bile, 9 threw up on the man. The acidic bile flowed down his exposed face while traveling down his armor. Wildly the man swung again, this time connecting with 9 face. Spitting out several teeth, 9 backed off. The adrenaline had wore off and he was now feeling the full force of the pain he was in. Walking back to the antlered one, 9 picked her up in his arms yet again while saying weakly "See anltered one....Back before you know it." Hopefully the others took advantage of the damage he took to weaken the man.

“Ha,” the dark elf scoffed, “Not all of us are so eager for attention.”

Wisdom laughed, "That's what makes me a rare commodity." Doing all the jobs no one else would risk their neck for vastly opened his career's niche.

The march of feet rolled in, and his muscles tensed. People were just begging for the elf to play, today. The Oenann sword fluttered from Wisdom's grip, jumping to bite at the crew rattling closer to the door. It whispered dreams to his swordhand of the cuts, swipes, and charges, the slams down on an open wound. "Company's here." His knees loosened and bent, making him stoop as he neared, feet bouncing for the new fight.

The big "bug" caught the sound too late, swiveling with ten or more men at the throat. Just as Wisdom stepped forward to cut them down, the thing foamed light from the eyes, head pulsing, and gargled and blasted it from its jaws. 'Magic...' The screech of busted doors was nothing to the wail Four-Arms made. Wisdom's teeth pressed hard enough to make the jaw sore, and his left hand reached for his ear. "For the love of every damn spirit..."

The men screamed sicker than any Wisdom'd heard in his short hundred years, noses running with blood, and by the end they piled on the ground, looking good as dead 'sides the infrequent breaths from the chest. The Oenann himself was sucking in greedy breaths. "...Could you spare our ears next time?"

The blue-veins man was revving into another disgusted fit at the sight. "Find your own way out, you savages."

This again. The weak restraint the rash man had was whisked away with the ringing ears and the spur of rage. Wisdom pushed his tongue against his canines and stalked after the prissy man that was unfortunately his guide. "Hey, lil' prison runt, get that head out of your bare, self righteous dumb ass. Half the crew - including me! - hasn't poked a soul, and the only reason your pretty fingers look clean is 'cause the rest killed the guards for you. Trying to write us off like you're bet-"

Wisdom's frustrated thin face squinted down the hall. A large silhouette in thick armor walled the narrow hallway, cutting its end short. When the naked man spoke, Wisdom's bug eyes bolted open. He was one of Eblistan's Princes? There wasn't a minute to mull on that, as the hulking block was flying in like a bad dream, and Prince running scared like a joke. Wisdom backed out the distance he'd made to give way for the first and prepared for the second. The gang clutched to walls and scuttled to corners, green-eyes made a shot for the armor - feeble to the one before - and did nothing but warm it to a dull red.

The bug mercifully didn't scream. The giant black form knocked the metal man down like a toy soldier, sinking the talon through the soft armor and into the chest. Wisdom barely heard screams, the warrior smashed the fat hammer against the piercing claw until it popped and bled.

Wisdom didn't wait. The lanky form cut to a quick start and slammed forward with both hands on the hilt. Teeth and bodily fluid traded sides, and the elf saw the bug creature back away from the edge of his sight. Acid dug into the warrior's face as he raged a broken battle cry, his words muddy fog to Wisdom's pointed ears. The foe's quick hand still saw Wisdom coming, and began to heave the hammer for his side. It may as well have been a butterfly. The elf split the longsword through the softened chest and sliced it out like through bread, and made arm and hammer weep backward. Incomprehensible cusses were the fading prayer to the Eblistani's afterlife, and Wisdom cut his pain early by sprinting out and throwing his weight into the blade as it cut into the throat.

The Oenann popped to the left of the mutilated corpse and breathed out half a laugh. Wisdom's filled brown eyes went to the Prince, and one heavy brow creased deep into his forehead expectedly. "Well, my lord, Prince," Wisdom's hand wrapped tight around his sword to free it, and began to swing it out,"we did the fight for you, aga- AGH!"A repressed scream cut him short as acid spattered on his forearm.

He wrung his left arm spastically, cussing under his breath, gaze flicking to the bug's film wrap at the sword's end, then a look of horror to the culprit. "Did you just ruin my sword!?"

Aevah was understandably relieved when the World Breaker was destroyed without her having to lift a finger. However, the victory didn't come without its share of losses. The bug thing was badly injured, Tarwin was drunk, the fae looked as though she was dying, the green eyed elf looked completely drained, the other mixed breed had lost his sword, and the Prince was still suffering from poison. Whatever hope she had held out on using him later as a bargaining chip was dashed now that she had seen a World Breaker turn on him whilst obviously knowing who he was... something fishy was going on here.

She sighed, helping those injured would mean slowing their group down but they had just risked their lives for hers, without them she would quite honestly be dead right now... She owed a debt, like it or not. She moved to the green eyed elf and knelt somewhat to slip his arm over her shoulders and help him stand.

She turned to Rin, "Would you be willing to carry the Fae if she and her odd companion will let you? I don't think the big... thing is in any shape to keep carrying her itself."

She glanced at Shorus, reluctant to tell anyone his size what to do. Still, they needed his help... "Uh, Bull-guy... can you help Mr. Bug along till we run into our next bought of trouble?"

She turned back to her green-eyed elven companion and smiled tiredly, " I'm Aevah by the way... I'll be your escort this evening. All jokes aside though, can you walk like this?"

She frowned at the Prince as she calculated their odds without him or his without them... Neither were very promising, "No offense meant but mayhaps now would be a good time to at least put on a breast plate and grab another blade since apparently someone on your team wants you dead and seems to have enough money to ensure that it happens."

She shrugged, "Unless of course you still plan to fight your own way out.. Good luck on that end though. At least with us you might actually make it to your father to alert him of this mess. As I said, someone must have paid these guards handsomely to keep their own Prince here...they won't just let you waltz out... Whatever you may think of us, we are just trying to survive. If we could get out without killing we would."

With that small attempt at peace-making done she shifted her grip on the green-eyed elf to better distribute his weight as she locked the arm not holding his around her shoulders, around his waist to keep him upright.

"Whatever we are doing we had better move before more of those," she nodded at the dead World Breaker, "catch up with the first."

Shorus ran into the hallway from where the heavy steps and the clashing metal were heard, but it seemed that the chitin monster, the green eyed and the pointed eared with the sword had already defeated the attacker. Shorus was surprised, the defeated warrior that layed on the floor was as big as Shorus himself. For a moment Shorus even thought that it was another Minotaur, but he couldn't find his horns and realised that it was just a very big man.
"Hehe, I see that you little ones are very tough and skilled fighters! Shorus gives you big honour!" , the Minotaur congratulated the three warriors that defeated the World Breaker as he grabbed the wounded '9' and brought him back to the barracks as the little lady asked him to.
The Minotaur then spoke to everyone in a hope that someone understood anything about medicine, "I found guard's health fixing cabinet, does anyone here knows anything about fixing health?" , said Shorus as he put '9' on the floor of the barracks and pointed towards the medicine cabinet.

---

There were voices, and there were shouts, there was blood and there was death. And all of it bled together in a muddled heap of chaos.

Kylmi knew that her drifting in and out of consciousness was a terrible sign, a prelude to her death and this dungeon to be her dying world. Her ears were still ringing, assaulted by the terrible screeching wail of her companion who clutched her within his various arms even when weakened so drastically. The Nymph's breath was exhaling in short, raspy gasps of agony as the iron venom continued to fester in her blood and the stench of the dying suffocated her poisoned lungs. Even in her dwindling state, she felt eyes on her and within those stares were judgments and wonder, Kylmi felt vulnerable under their scrutiny but death was bidding for her attention and she bit her claws further into the chitin plating. She had been used to glances and lingering gazes for so long, she often welcomed them, basked in them, her selfish pride and her want of the following lustful insinuations had been what Kylmi lived off of. But in the dark, it was different, and so she hid her own observations beneath the shadowing fall of her curling hair and the crook of her arm.

Their forms were dark obscurities as her mind reeled and shuttered off and on, her only reassurances that she was alive was the embrace of the massive insect and her own ears swiveling and rotating in random intervals to catch each and every exchanged dialogue. There wasn't much she could contribute to, her last spoken council against retreating to the forest having spent most of her ability to speak, and with the iron having riddled her mouth in blackish taint, her lips could only peel back over felidae canines in a horrid grimace and snarl. Everyone simply wanted to get out, to finally free themselves and she could champion to that, encourage it and yet their fallen emir had so condescendingly bid them on their own. She seethed at that, at him, he who vouched so for his guards and their lives. He didn't know of the horrendous tortures she had endured here in this stony netherworld, of what his precious brethren had done unto her and she glared at down the hall in which he retreated - if only, she thought.

With her feral anger, once again she was warped into the darkness of her passing mind, her reality confused and muddled beyond comprehension. She heard the talk and report of something, or was it someone, beyond their normal capabilities. The shuffling as everyone scrabbled around in their decisions of how and where to attack, she could feel the summoning of destructive magic but her reeling eyes could not pin point it anymore. The glassy fixtures were beginning to web with the ascending toxicity and Kylmi could only whimper in her frail voice when her weakened savior laid her down, she couldn't recall what he said across her mind, only that there was a hopeless tremor to it. She slumped against the wall, unable to support herself and her bones and body flinched and pained at the sounds she heard. Popping bones, peeling flesh, burning and things breaking and she grew terrified with it. She had not known battle for a long time, not since Isildier which was nearly a century ago. Kylmi coughed and spat at the memory and could barely catch the weakened boom across her mind.

...Back before you know it.

The Nymph could only manage a weak smile at that, and when he once again swept her into his arms, she rattled her antlers against his plated shoulder before her dying mind once again fell into unconsciousness.

Kylmi drifted in her dream like state, barely catching the soft suggestion that someone else carry her aside from one of their hulking companions. Her chest was rising and falling in barely there puffs of breath, accentuated by soft wheezes and rasps that ended in harsh, wet coughs and heaving convulsions. She swore she heard something about healing remedies in her unaware condition, but that could have been just her vain hope and instinct that made it possible for her to breathe. Her mind couldn't confirm it, she could only pray to her long, forgotten deity that they would find it necessary to assist her still.

Tarwin smiled a little as the rest of the prisoners showed up, he lowered his blade and stepped back to allow the beasts to do their work. His plan to lure the world breaker into a more aggressive stance and thereby lowering his guard had succeeded, as he went back down the corridor he overheard one of the others, the girl who had sat back with the prince, talk about finding and warning the king. Then a brilliant idea popped into his intoxicated mind, they were inside the citadel, one of the most securely defended structures in the known world, but the defences were focused on keeping things out and not on monitoring what went on inside. In short the valuables that the king sat upon were as close to his reach as they ever would be, he'd be a fool not to try and make some profit, and what would they do? Lock him up?

As the group turned their attention to the wounded member of the party Tarwin raised his voice to get some attention. "I'm going to run on ahead and Er...Scout the route out." He moved over to an unconscious guard who had been knocked aside by the bull and took the helmet he wore as well as the leather jacket that bore the guard's insignia. "I should be able to blend in with this, find a way out with as few guards as possible." He turned and made his way swiftly down the hallway, glancing over his shoulder to shout. "If I don't come back just assume I'm in trouble and find another way out." He thought for a moment before adding. "...Or come and rescue me, yeah do that."

Stepping over the corpse of the presumably 'elite' guard, Tarwin hurried down the corridor, coming up with the best way to get past the guards and possibly convince then to do something to make it easier for the others to escape. While he certainly wasn't the most honourable person he did kind of owe those guys one and he'd feel bad if he was the only one to escape. Soon enough he exited the corridor and came face to face with a group of 20 or so guards hurrying the opposite way to him. "Stop! Stop" He cried, waving his arms to get their attention, they did as he said and their leader stepped forward, a captain. Tarwin gave a sharp salute and in his most formal voice possible said. "I bring word from the dungeons, the corridor has collapsed back there, we need to go around and cut them off before they make it to the eastern gate!" The captain looked about to say something but Tarwin interrupted. "No time to talk this whole area's unstable! I think I'm the only one who got out!" The captain nodded and quickly barked orders for the guards to pull back and loop around, they would likely pass on the 'news' and clear the way for his comrades.

After following the group for a while he spoke with the captain. "I was told to bring reinforcements from the king's personal guard, the ones stationed at the treasury, where might I locate them?" The captain looked slightly confused but given he'd never faced a situation like this before he shrugged it off and gave him the directions. With a smug grin on his face Tarwin set off for what he assumed was going to be an entire hall of gold and jewels, when he arrived however he was disappointed a simple locked door with two guards outside. Giving another salute to the guards Tarwin turned on a panicking tone before running up to them and gasping. "You need to hurry to the east gate, the prisoners have broken out and two huge beasts are leading an escape! We need all the soldiers we can spare!" The two guards glanced at each other before nodding and heading off down the corridor, once they were gone he gave a hard kick to the door, breaking the lock after a few tries and letting it swing open...Safe boxes. Row after row of steel containers each housing a small fortune and almost impossible to open without a key, giving a scream of drunken anger Tarwin grabbed one of the safe boxes and pulled it over, a loud crash echoed through the halls and he knew guards would soon come to investigate. Cursing loudly he turned and rushed down the maze of corridors, trying to get as far away from the crime scene as he could. Not even a single coin profit for the effort he'd been through.

Kyrtaar felt himself being helped up. He smiled weakly when she spoke to him. Aevah was a pretty name. The girl was half elf, and somewhere in Kyrtaars full blood told him to dislike her for it. But as an outcast himself from the Elves, he didn't see a point in it. "My name is Kyrtaar" he muttered, with his arm around her shoulder. "You know," he said "you never realize how bad an idea it is to wear your sword on your back until you fall on it" he finished, while rubbing his back.

If her touch based abilities kicked in, she may see visions of stars, and suns. Planets in strange orbits, or hear the songs of the cosmos, strange deep growls from the abyss. She may glimpse into his nightmares of his soul being devoured by a planet covered in eyes, but by and large, she'd be spared most of the horrific visions Kyrtaar was prone to. After a few steps, Kyrtaar would steady himself on his own. "Thanks for your help" he said, sincerely. "But I'll be fine from here, provided I don't have to manifest any more today, before we get under the open sky." He was lying a bit, but was able to keep pace with the group. His legs felt like hundred pound weights, but he'd be fine.

Mundhir had rifled through the guard’s lockbox a naked man, but had arisen in a somewhat warrior’s attire. With holey brown dyed woollen trousers, a pair of questionably sized sandals, and a vest of simple studded leather obscuring his venom-marked chest, he looked more a lowly bandit than a prince of Eulona’s former superpower. Still, at least his modesty had been removed from display.

The World Breaker had grossly overestimated the skill and resolve of the escapee prisoners, and his attempt to let the blood of royalty had been abruptly ended. Mundhir was both surprised and appalled by the recklessness shown by his father’s best. World Breakers were men without equal – each a great hero of some renown, with their legacies soaked in the blood of the Elves of Nillanor, or the Dwarves of Irongarde. He reckoned that were he the man’s commanding officer, as he often had been in the borderland wars, he’d of had him flung from the regiment without further thought for such hubris.

Though the mighty warrior had been felled, the group seemed to have taken little joy in their triumph; already they were analysing the Prince, sneering at him and mocking him – not always with words. Their looks were a mixture of anger and amusement, and he could almost read their thoughts. They had decided him a coward, a highborn snot nosed rug-rat not worthy of the princely crown he carried. What did they know of him, really?

There was little doubt in Mundhir’s mind that the Elves of Nillanor were not behind his assassination attempt. The World Breakers answered only to his father, himself, and his brothers. They were both the royal-guard and an elite combat unit. That one had come into the dungeon, alone, to snuff the life from him, was all the confirmation he needed that his own blood wanted him dead.

The Half-Elf woman was one of the more understanding of the group, she showed relevant wisdom to his situation. She more or less backed up his concerns that his own brothers, or indeed, and Duranar forbid, his own father, had ordered the end of his existence. Eblistan was no longer safe for him, and until he found out more on the situation, approaching his father was most unwise. His heart sunk as he realised just how low he had fallen in the last few days, and he felt near to being physically sick. Not because of the venom, still coursing through his veins, but because of the realisation he shared the blood of men who would kneel so deep in dishonour to reach their desired ends.

Mundhir Sadek, War Hero, beloved by the people and seventh in line to thrown, decided on a plan. He would need the prisoners though, if he was going to pull it off. Could he trust them, though? For a moment his gaze shifted from each one of them – and focused for a time on the insectoid monster. Were any of these assassins? A third machination in a long list of plans to ensure his demise? He had neither the time nor the resources to find out for sure. Duranar would have to watch out for him a while longer.

“None of you may like me, and this is fair,” spoke Mundhir; his voice rising high above the general chit-chat and other ambience. “But we need each other, if we’re to escape this place.”

As if to punctuate his point, the ground started to shudder, as the many bells of the Citadel above started to cry their alarms. There was only one reason the contraptions were operated: Eblistan was under siege. The Prince knew it very unlikely that Nillanor had marched in force on the Citadel, and so presumed that the City Watch, and perhaps even his father’s army, were descending onto the dungeon.

“My death is wanted very much, more than likely by my own blood. Why this may be, I am unsure, and which one of my family is responsible, I am equally uncertain. This is a fell matter, and one I will have resolved before the shame of the Sadek’s brings this country to its knees,” he continued. ”I have five hundred good fighting men, in the ruins of Baalor. We recently drove Prince Thrandel of Nillanor from my ancestral city, and no doubt, my soldiers hold it still. They will recognise me, and they will give me shelter.”

Picking up a bloodied sabre from the mangled fingers of a dead countryman, the Prince started to move back into the corridor containing the torture chambers.

“Follow me. I will get us out of this,” he said, but stopped briefly to face them. “I am weak from the attempt on my life, and though my grace can usually match the sword mastery of a long-lived Elf, for now I am little more than a feeble child. Aid me, protect me, and convey me to my men. You will all be rewarded, and once I have this treachery cut from the weeping wound on my country’s pride, I will have you all knighted and cleared of whatever crimes that have adhered to your names.”

To help them make up their minds, he gestured to the damp and dark of the barrack’s ceiling. “Those bells are tolling for you. Unless you intend to face down a thousand men, I urge you to assist me.”

He turned and walked down the corridor, stepping over the World Breaker as he did so, and started pressing the stones of the wall. Before long he had found the one he was looking for, and with an ear numbing grind, a section of the wall shifted to reveal a narrow passageway.

“This will take us to the Eastern Wall, and beyond. Likely, if my killers are smart, it’ll be guarded – but if we’re careful, then perhaps we can sneak out without alerting the Citadel’s garrison to our intentions.”

Nessa turned her head away as the drunkard agitated the warrior, not wanting to see him get slaughtered “Oh god, everyone here must be suicidal. Or have an unquenchable thirst for blood”

She expected it to be over quickly, but she didn’t hear the expected screams of agony from the blonde pirate. An elf had attacked the World Breaker, that much had been evident, but did it do any damage? As the green vapor dispersed, her hope was lost; it barely made a scratch. The elf must have put everything he had into that attack, and fell onto the ground, clearly spent.

Her arrows would do nothing but bounce off, even if she aimed for a weak point. Nessa saw no other options, she’d just have to slip past him. Slinging her weapon on her back, she crouched into a running stance. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the beastly arthropod relieve himself of his burden, and knew he would attack next.

Her burst forward was perfectly in sync with 9’s attack, and she was able to sprint past both of them without notice. Nessa briefly considered helping, but what could she do? She wasn’t trained for combat. Everything she ever did was one sided. She killed people who couldn’t fight back even if they tried. And in the even that she was caught, Nessa would run away. Call it cowardice if you want to, but it earned her a living. Even if she did want to help out her provisional companions, she couldn’t.

Now ahead of the group, she waited for the fight to end, wincing every time the man landed a hit on the beast. Without a clear line of vision, Nessa couldn’t make sense of what had happened, but it seemed like another elf had taken over to deal the final blow.

A surprising sense of guilt came over Nessa, as she saw how badly damaged the others were. She wasn’t responsible. But she also wasn’t helping. Still spinelessly hiding under her own magic, she watched as the half elf tried to establish order and assist the heavily wounded.

As they started moving again, she lessened the intensity of her veil, so she could at least make eye contact. No point in completely removing it though, if trouble still lay ahead. The minotaur, Shorus as it seemed, found a medicine cabinet, and she finally had her chance to contribute. ”I might know a thing or two. No promises though,” She opened the cabinet and sighed. She could only recognize a few simple pain killers and gauze. Nothing that would dramatically alleviate the pain of serious injuries. She had no idea what ailed the nymph, much less what would ease her suffering.

Picking out a blue bottle, she opened the lid and sniffed it. Most apothecaries sold a common pain remedy using a certain type of blue lily that was particularly invasive in the Plains. Reassured by it’s flowery scent, she downed a bit of the liquid before holding the bottle up toward the group, “This should help a bit with the pain, if anybody wants it. It’s not very strong, but it might help. There’s also some gauze in here if you want to wrap up anything,” Picking up a few more bottles and jars, she tried identifying any other useful substances. As she rejected several unidentifiable substances, Nessa mentally cursed herself for spending more time on poisons than health potions. She knew antidotes too, but a standard medicine cabinet like this would not contain the more potent concoctions, specifically those she knew some of them desperately needed.

“This salve has a cooling and numbing agent, I think, not very strong though,” Nessa lifted a small spherical container filled with a minty cream, then another corked bottle, “And this is just a cleansing oil…”

After the others had taken what they needed, she found a small bag in the cabinet and filled it with the mentioned substances.

Suddenly the prince spoke up, fully clothed now. He offered his input, and a sense of direction for them. Nessa was skeptical of his words, but she could not refuse him as he revealed a secret passageway out of the putrid dungeon. Whether they liked it or not, they all needed each other if they wanted to survive.