[center][b][i]Amidst the Siege, A Mission into the Dungeons of Windhelm[/i][/b] - A Collab by [@gcold] and myself.[/center]

	Solid matter rained down from the brightening sky as Farid dashed from alleys to alleys. It was early in the morning, around the same time of the day when the crescendo of the Reach assault took place. Bloody fissures faded chased ascending orange rays over the horizon. The close proximity of sunrise assured everyone a little against incoming projectiles. Though it was not enough as something dropped from the sky, landing near Farid's feet. 

The object in question was a farming man, albeit without a head. Half of the neck was severed clean, and small spurts of blood still leaked out. But by the paleness of the corpse, it looked dead for the better part of a day.

"Gah..." Farid covered his mouth. Stepping over the corpse carefully, because there wasn't much room around the alley. Like any decaying biological matter, the corpse smelled horrible. Farid bunched his face to prevent himself from puking. "Hurry, the palace is right ahead." He gestured at the towering spires above several rolls of houses, hurrying whoever followed him forward. 

	Just then, someone peeked out of a door to side. Farid waved at them. "Stay inside, it's not safe out here." He warned. Turns out, it was a young child, probably a boy and probably around ten years old. No sound or sight of his parents in sight, the kid gasped silently at the decapitated body. "Got to get the boy back inside." Farid whispered to the person behind him. He shot a nervous glimpse at the child. "Can't have him tattle-tale to the guards.

	Leif had followed after Farid, leaving Sevine to her own escapades, he was certain that she could handle herself by all means, if anyone chose to pick a fight. After first, he had worried that the Redguard was quicker than him, because as soon as he turned the corner, he had disappeared. However, being born and raised in the city of Windhelm, Leif knew that there were only a limited number of options as to where he had gone. He headed down the street, and rounded the corner to see Farid once more. He had come to a halt, as Leif approached from him behind. A gruesome discovery revealed a corpse, that had been flung over the walls by the enemy. Were the Kamal's trying to use tactics to weaken the citizens morale? If they were, it wouldn't work on him by any means.  A door creaked open, and a young boy, perhaps no older than nine or ten, poked his head out of the door, he gasped at the ghastly sight that lay in the streets. He knew the boy's folks as the Iron-Claw's, and in truth he didn't know where they had gone off to. He caught Farid's whispered words, and only nodded in return, if they were going to do any sort of jail-breaking, it was best to not have anyone see them, especially with dawn less than a few hours away, as the sky grew lighter with the coming sun on the eastern horizon.

"Youngling, you'd best keep inside until it's safe." Leif said, "I know your Pa wouldn't like the idea of you poking your nose into trouble." He took a step towards the boy, putting himself between him, and the decapitated corpse. Gulping nervously, the boy withdrew into the darkness of the house, until the door locked into place, did Leif rejoin Farid's side.

"Close one there. The name's Leif. I figured you'd need some help if you're planning what you're thinking. I know all the in's-and-out's of this city like the back of my hand, and if anything, we'd best get a move on before the guards report back to the palace, if they're not there already." He nodded his head down the street, implying they get a move on instead of lingering around like alley-cats.

"Farid." He pointed to himself. "Looks like it's just us. But then again, most of Ashav's men are dead or dying." Farid noted. It seemed like Leif knew the city quite well, and by the way he handled the boy, probably the citizens as well. "You from around here, eh? Neat place, though too stoney for my taste." He said in a hushed voice while ducking under a low beam. Clearing the next corner of houses came the palace walls. A large rock crashed through a portion of the fortifications, landing in a crater in the courtyard. The palace gates were opened for officials, prominent citizens and guards. A security detachment of one dozen men patrolled the courtyard. At the current time, all but two huddled around the rock crater. Judging by impacts heard not so long ago, the guards were still examining the projectile.

"This part we have do the hard way." Stopping right behind the street, Farid let Leif observe alongside him. "You know this place; that's the only way in." Farid signed at the entrance. "Alright, two of them and two of us. I'll take the one on the left and you take the right." He laid out the plan. Farid sounded somewhat tired, he was impatient to get it over with so he didn't wait for Leif to respond. "That's only if we can't talk our way in, which is, extremely likely."

Stepping out into the lantern glow, Farid strolled towards the guards. As he came within weapon distance, one guard held up his arm. "Halt! No access unless the jarl approves." Came the warning.

"I have an important message for the jarl." Farid bluffed, trying to appear authoritative. It didn't look like the guards were buying. 

"I don't think so." The second one approached. This one was awfully familiar. Wait, it was the same guard Farid insulted last morning. "You again!" The guard sneered, his right hand wrapped around his sword handle. "I am too busy for your childish games. Go away now, or I'll put you down for lollygagging."

"Ah, you got me there. Sorry, leaving now." Farid said. He did not retreat, instead, he gazed intently at the guard's neck. "Woah, is that blood coming from your head? Seriously, take off your helmet and let me check." Farid turned to his Nord companion, silently mouthing [i]play along[/i]. "You seeing this, Leaf?"

	Hesitantly, the guard undid his headgear. His hands felt around his head, feeling nothing. He paused for a moment, confused as to what just happened. Then he realized, Farid was tricking him. The guard opened his mouth to insult and a gloved hand flew for his weapon. He was too late. Farid swung his right fist into the guard's temple.

Only to have no effect.

"What in the..." The guard spat.

"Hold on, it's just a prank!" Farid exclaimed. Now enraged, the guard unsheathed his sword. Farid promptly backed up, dodging to the side as steel swooshed pass where his neck was. Suddenly, he was on the guard's flank, a knuckle duster sat over his fist. In a lightning quick strike, another punch connected with unprotected head. This time, the guard dropped, unconscious. 

Having dispatched his man, Farid searched for Leif, hoping he could take care of the second guard before they attract attention.

	He didn't bother responding to Farid's question about him being from Windhelm, as he quietly followed him towards the courtyard, there was no point in chit-chat really, not at a time like this, a time when he needed his mind to be clear, and focused on the task at hand. When they broke upon the scene, two guards were inspecting the rock that the Kamal siege weapons had flung over the ramparts. Before he had the chance to attempt to change Farid's mind about their course of action, and insisting that he take the lead, however, Farid had other plans in mind. As Farid approached the two guards, he made his attempt to sweet talk his way into the palace, but of course, Jarl's orders. He repressed an inward groan as he watched the scene before him unfold. When Farid told the guard that he had blood coming from his head, and insisted he take off his helm, he turned his attention back to Leif, and mouthed some words for him to play along, which he did. He was slightly irritated that he had called him Leaf, instead of Leif, but there was no times to pick fights over mispronounced names.

 	He moved closer to Farid, though he kept to the side of the other guard, keeping out of his line of sight. He swore inwardly, not wishing to draw attention to himself, and quickly dispatched the other guard, as he sprang on him with a firm choke-hold by using the crook of his elbow, he applied equal pressure onto a certain nerve that caused the guard to nod off immediately, becoming dead weight in his arms. Without hesitation, Leif dragged the body of the now unconscious guard over to the rock, and propped him up, fixing his limbs in a certain way so as to make him look like he was asleep on the job, and by all means he was.

"You should've let me talk to them. They know who I am, could've weaseled our way" He mumbled beneath his breath, "Born and raised here after all."

"We better get a move on quick, you ought to drag him off into the alley here, this bloke here didn't even see me, so when he wakes, he won't remember what happened, or who did this." Leif suggested.

"I don't remember you being a guard." Farid caught Leif mumbling when he found the Nord. "I've seen them earlier, nobody gets in without clearance." He contrasted the idea Leif threw up. Even though Farid didn't believe in Leif's persuasiveness, he was on the same page when it comes to hiding the bodies. A solid brass knuckle against the head tend to leave its victim asleep for the immediate future, but Farid didn't kill the guard, as doing so would no doubt cause complications when someone found out. That someone could very well be Leif. For now, Farid followed his buddy's lead; depositing the chainmail-clad men in a clammy crook among shadowy passages. 

"No, not a guard by any means, but when you go off to war to fight the Imperials, and you come back alive, folk here will congratulate you. I grew up with some of these men." He said with a sigh, not irritated, though more annoyed at the Redguard and his words. He understood what Sevine meant now, why most in the company didn't get along with Farid, but he was a good man nonetheless, and if anything, he certainly had a sense of humor.

"This is why." Farid explained minutes later. He returned from alley with a palm-sized badge. It was a stylized bear head carved with some form of copperymetal, possibly corundum, if inspected by a smith. "Anyone not with the court or the guards have to wave this through. Thanks to the lieutenant back there, we're now city officials." Farid grinned, dust his hands in celebration of his "handiwork". "Thanks for playing along, I thought you were going to bail for a second." Farid added, there was no sincere gratitude in his voice. "For their sake, it's better they only saw the handsome one." The Redguard patted himself on the shoulder, both figuratively and literally. 

"Ah, well of course." Leif eyed the badge, it was familiar of course, as he had seen them before, but he didn't think more of it, or as to why Farid provoked the guards like that in the first place. He chuckled at Farid's words of being [i]the handsome one[/i], he'd let the man have the moment, not willing to brag about his countless expenditures with the women he coaxed into bed with him. Thank goodness the alchemist's made potions such as Cure Disease. "No, I wouldn't do such a thing. After all, when I heard you clamoring about us making the coin we signed up for, I couldn't turn down the offer. If we make it through this siege, it'll certainly come in handy."

	Crossing the courtyard was uneventful. The guards there entrusted all of their rear security to two men. Perhaps the highest ranking member, the lieutenant assured everyone he had the situation under control. None bothered more than a glance at the visitors. Five guards still examined the rock, which was apparently exotic looking, maybe even imported from Akavir. To one guardsman, rocks were the least of his concern. This one hogged the attention of two more with a nervous breakdown. From the way his chain-mail gleamed under the lanterns, this guardsman was obviously a rookie. Not the best start for his career, nor the careers of the jarl's advisers. An old woman wearing high class garments jogged out when Farid neared the palace gates. She carried a heavyset pack stuffed with solid objects, and a wide bucket full of provisions and letters barely supported by her frail arms. Behind her was an even elderly man dressed in equally elaborate outfits, except this one hunched over with a towering rucksack over his shoulders. Sticking along the side, Farid gave outbound citizens ample rooms to leave, and not recognize him as someone that didn't belong. But then he had to sprint after the palace castles started to close. Farid barely got to acknowledge the gate before he got shut out.

"No more visitors till sunrise, the jarl and his court needs rest." The gatekeeper denied them.

"But we have to conduct our investigation." Farid declared. He took out the lieutenant's badge from his pocket, presenting it for the gatekeeper. "A prisoner sold the city out to snow demons." Farid pointed outwards to the city, emphasizing on the projectiles flying in and the Kamals launching them. "For the sake of the city, please. We won't disturb the jarl." Farid begged.

"I..." The gatekeeper hesitated. The poor man doesn't seemed like to have slept in a day. His eyes black-laden, his posture sagged from exhumation, absolutely zero energy in his words. Even Farid feel sorry if he were to knock the gatekeeper out, this was the last person deserving of such fate. So Farid turned to Leif again. Since the Nord asked to take charge earlier, now would a great time for him to shine.

	Leif sprung into action when Farid looked to him for guidance, the gatekeeper, indeed, appeared horrendously exhausted, and he could tell by the way the man spoke, that if he could coax him enough, he would allow them through. "I beg of you. You must let us through, these Kamal will destroy the city before the day has ended if you do not let us in. We must speak to this vagabond, and extract all of the information we can, the lives of our citizens depend on it, and we cannot fail them, or else the city will fall."

"Hear, heed my partner." Farid concurred with whatever Leif said. Two people coaxing him convinced the gatekeeper enough. The gates stayed ajar, allowing the dual entrance.

	Eerie silence dominated the palace halls. The great dining room were empty save for the bare-bone sentries. Farid never been in this particular building before, so he took the first steps in quiet awe, marveling the structure's craftsmanship. The elongated dinning table stood devoid of refreshments or nourishment. Chairs splayed about disarranged, a few even laid sideways on the floor. On the ceilings, the iron chandelier hang cold. The only sources of illumination came from sconces lining the walls, each with a sentry around it. Farid whispered something about creepy, than something about the shame of having no food on the table. As he and Leif walked halfway inside, they could spot a weak light beam extending out of a doorway perpendicular in their front. It was the only room still open and lit, probably containing the only people beside motionless guards.

Their entrance to the Palace of Kings brought Leif back to fonder years, when he took his oath of service to the Stormcloak's, and to Ulfric himself. He had little time to reflect on the matter when the sound of footsteps drew him away from the deep realm of his thoughts.

"My lords," Footstep suddenly approached from the side, almost startling Farid into jumping. "I am afraid the kitchen is long closed. Jarl Lodevemar ordered our remaining meals to be given to the defenders." A tall figure in ceremonial armor and an expressionless full-face helmet alerted them. Words came out muffled by the mask, but it reverberated around hall once spoken. Unalarmed was the sentry, for he, or she, put too much faith into earlier defenses like the courtyard detachment.

	Farid found himself unable to respond. He tried to think up bogus claims but the vast majority stuck in his fatigued mind, and whatever slipped down choked in his throat. How the palace felt sent shivers down Farid's arms, to have a blank-masked guard resembling the Kamals' facial features frightened the Redguard for a moment. Instead gawking wordless, he stepped aside and let Leif handle it. After all, the Nord seemed to get more mileage than him on the talking front. 

"Unfortunately we're not here for food," Leif piped up, as he took the spot Farid had once occupied. "We're conducting an investigation into a prisoner held in the dungeons. We've recently discovered, that the reason why the Kamal's have set up siege weapons, is because he gave them valuable information in regards to the our city. As you know, that's why this happened." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at the door behind them, where the massive rock the Kamal had flung over the walls lay outside. "We have reason to believe that the Kamal know more information about our city, than we had planned on them knowing, and for that, the city lies at great peril. We're at greater risk of the city falling to the Kamal, now more than ever." While his demeanor remained steadfast, and unwavering in front of the guard, inside, he prayed silently to Talos that the guard would accept his words, and let them by without hassle. Most of the men and women that had served under Ulfric, had been replaced by Jarl Lodevemar. He preferred people he trusted, and not those that would threaten, or impede upon his rule. Leif didn't mind the Jarl so much, but it was his younger son, that he despised. He could do as he pleased, and without risk of punishment.

In the far distance, dialogues between individuals leaked out. "My jarl...should sleep." "No...my fault.." "No point...regret..." "Should not leave the catapults...should not support...Reach campaign." 

Leif's ears caught the faint words of a conversation being held, but what they were saying, he could make out very little. The words that concerned him the most, while he waited for the guard's response, were of the catapults, and something about the Reach campaign. His mind wandered back to Sevine, didn't she say that she had just come from the Reach, on a mission to remove Forsworn from a redoubt? 

	If the sentry objected, the resulting expressions could not be deciphered behind the mask. Glancing back at the lit room and back to the "investigators", the sentry relented. "Very well." The armored figure said quietly, not wishing to disturb a late night meeting. "I presume you will access the high security wing? I could fetch the keys for petty criminal cells." The sentry asked.

"Oh, yes, of course." Farid got his act together. Standing straighter and more confident, he matched the sentry's steps. "No sense grilling a common thief, because uh, only the most treasonous backstabber could, you know, exchange our fair city for demon coins." The Redguard maintained an air of false bravado. However, the sentry was anything but eager to stroke Farid's ego. Perhaps they still suspected a Redguard investigating inside a Nordic stronghold, or the fact someone in irregular leathers got issued the guard badge. Unlike the vocal Stormcloak guards that would have been patrolling the very same area three years ago, Lodevemar's personal security projected cold indifference. It reminiscence to the Cyrodiilic Emperor's Penitus Oculatus when Farid visited Imperial City.

“For your information, we executed many serious offenders last week.” That was the only time the sentry spoke. “After fair trials, obviously. But I assume men of your station already know.”

	On the walls far across the lit room, a reinforced set of doors opened to reveal a dark staircase. The sentry grabbed a torch from a nearby sconce, lighting dormant torches as he led the way down. Two more doors rested in the bottom. One of them was wood secured by iron beams, and the other one, well, it was a one-piece steel. The wooden door appeared older, more naturally built into the basement. The steel door shone of fresh finish, and its frame looked like recent installation. Without surprise, the sentry unlocked the steel door.

“By regulations,” The sentry announced, but they were cut off. Deep rumbles shook the foundations of the palace. The basement ceiling vibrated, falling flakes of lose paint. Noises of crashes and collapses accompanied by the rumbling. However, the ground floor above dented much of the impact. Once the Palace calmed again, the guard resumed. “The door have to be locked, knock when you are ready to leave.”

“Did the we just get hit?” Farid asked, the sentry answered with silence. Peeking inside the dungeon nervously, Farid changed topic. “So, we need the cells keys. Can't interrogate productively unless it's face-to-face, right?” The Redguard left off where Leif can finish.

"And this is exactly why we came down here," Leif grumbled quietly under his breath. "No worries here, I'll be sure we don't rough the fellow up too bad, if need be. We'll keep him proper-like for his trial, when that comes about." When the shaking of the floor above subsided, he let out a slow breath of relief, thankful that whatever had struck the palace, or the surrounding area, hadn't come crashing down on top of them. So far, he hid his surprise at the fact that the guard hadn't questioned

	Their argument once again came through. To be honest, Farid couldn't be more shocked. Beside the meathead lieutenant and his goon, his facade went smoother than expected. It felt too smooth. Maybe someone up top knew, and he was being set up. Or, as Farid would prefer right now, Windhelm's government was too occupied to deal with dubious dungeon crawlers. Whatever the case, the guard passed over a pair of torches accompanied by a key-ring, then he slammed the steel door shut.

	Darkness as far as the eye could see, everything was obscure inside the jail block. Farid and Leif's torches were the only light sources. The area was also soundless, once the door closed tight, the only sound were rhythmic water drops, occasional bar creaks and distant rat screeches. “I hate to say this,” Farid admitted. His face under the torch showed fear. “But this is kind of scary. I wish we had one of them Khajiits; I can't see crap in the dark.”

"Aye, you and me both." Admitted the Nord, blinking rapidly to adjust to the atmosphere around them, as he stepped cautiously away from the door. "My friend, she's with the company as well, Sevine? Don't know if you know her right, but she's taken an odd liking to one of the Khajiit's we've got on board with us." His remark was muttered under his breath than for something to be talked about readily with Farid.

“You know, I was fighting in the Reach last week.” Having taken steps away from the door, Farid decided they were out of the sentry's earshot. Nevertheless, he kept his voice a low whisper. “Not a pretty picture at all.” He mumbled as examined the first cell. Behind the solid bars were a bucket and a bedroll, no sign of the living. “Though there was this one looker, a sneaky girl, Roze. She's probably more at home in these places than we are.” Farid thought out loud. “I had to carry her out after an arrow to her shoulder. A pity, really, she doesn't seem too into me.” Farid trailed off, he wanted to cheer himself and his fellow up, but it was not having desired effects.

"Roze?" Leif asked incredulously, had there been enough light in the blackness of the dungeons, Leif's knuckles gripped the wooden shaft of the torch until they were white. "I know her, Sevine's made quite a few friends with the company it seems. She's friendly with Roze, that tiny Imperial man, Sagax, I think that's his name... and Jorwen. I hope she's all right." In truth, Leif had wondered about Roze, where had she gone in the midst of the battle? For Talos' sake, he hoped she hadn't listened to his idea about taking the charges and planting them on the ships. After all, [i]someone[/i] was lucky enough to blow a hole in one of the ships, though he still had no idea who had done it just yet.

	They had inspected about five cells, the first three were completely empty. The fourth one was one, it had waste stains, blood stains, tattered clothes and what was apparently a human foot. The fifth was far more loaded. Sets of chains stuck to the rear, inone set, a half-rotten corpse still locked down solid. Then the six, just as the pair imagined a lifeless place, something stirred in the next cell. A shape leaped up in reaction to torch light, it clambered forward until its head bumped against the bars.

“Got a live one.” Farid called out to Leif. He brought the torch closer to bars, which prompted the figure to groan dryly through the mouth. Farid was looking at a boney human, a man so malnourished that his ribs almost poked out of his midsections. Raggedy strands hung off his head and face, like the broken fabrics below, they were all dust-filled.

“Can you talk, are you-” Farid stopped when he realized the prisoner choked like an unoiled wheel. Nothing legible came out because the prisoner was immensely dehydrated.

	After checking the first three cells, the fourth, and fifth unsettled Leif. His pride for Windhelm, and the love of his country, did not permit humans to be treated so poorly, criminals or not. The least the jail-keep could do was give them some bread and water. Then again, being left in the dungeons was an area where people often died, for the very same reason of lack of water, and food. The sole foot made him wonder if the poor bloke had been eaten alive by those pesky skeevers? What remained behind looked fresh, or at least fresh enough for the stains to still be visible in the wavering light of the torch fire. As they came upon the fifth cell, bile rose quickly in his throat, as what little of a meal he had the night before threatened to spew forth. Smell of rotten meat never settled well with Leif, even if it was a bear, deer, or human in this case. The sixth cell proved lifeless, but as they approached it, the seventh cell, life seemed to be within, for Leif could hear rustling, as a face pressed itself against the cold iron bars. He followed Farid without a sound, and as they stood in front of the next cell, Leif glanced at the Redguard with a worried look. They came down here for a more-than-half dead man?

"Is this him?" Leif asked. His free hand journeyed to the pack at his side, where he carried a various assortment of items on his hip. He untied a waterskin and held it hesitantly towards the starving man. The sight of the prisoner in his filth, dust-covered clothes, with his bones prodding out like a decaying cadaver, proved unnerving even more so than the contents of the other cells. While he weighed the water-skin in his hand, he judged it to be three-quarters full. With a sigh, he extended his reach further out to the man, to where he could grasp the water-skin freely.  He recalled readily, that he had some dried venison, and even two health potions in his potion holder, although he wasn't sure if the man before him could use them, let alone, if this was even the man they were looking for. In any case, if this proved not to be the thief, he hoped that the next man, if the man they were looking for, was even alive. Hopefully not the being with the foot...

	Reaching for the waterskin like divine nectar, the famished prisoner grasped in a swift stroke, immediately taking in away from Leif. He drank greedily, pouring down half of its content in the matter of seconds. Had Farid not warned him to drink slow, the man would have been gagging on water. Farid watched curiously as the prisoner's face lit up. Eyes on the deprived man opened wider, he carefully scanned his proximity with visions long accustomed to the dark. The way he sized up Farid and Leif was like a hungry skeever baiting a child lost in the sewers. Eventually, the prisoner's gaze fell on the key ring. His mouth hung halfway, not sure what to say, or even not knowing how to say anything at all.

"Better?" Farid whispered, trying now to startle the inmate. "Do you know a short Nord man? Bald, blond beard, bandoleers, about this tall." The Redguard place his hand in front of Leif's chest, which was Farid's shoulders.

"Huh? Wha.." The prisoner creaked. His voice was more raspy than Ashav's, like long finger nails scratching against the surface of a blackboard. "How do you? Why?" 

"Look, I'm Farid, Mercenary." Farid pointed to himself. "This tall man is Loaf, if I got that right. Working the same trade." He pointed to Leif. "Someone on the street said Entry, or is it Andre? Anyways. Someone who is probably you should have been released two weeks ago."

	Again with the name, Leaf, Loaf, Farid would never get it right it seemed. "It's Leif." He said, with a nod to the rail-thin man before him, not like it mattered. 

"Two, two weeks?" The prisoner wandered, eyes blank. "What time is it anyways? Frost Fall? Sun's Dusk? Am I," Midway through, crashing noises came from above. Dust shook free from the ceiling onto everyone, causing the inmate to cough violently. Farid extended his own waterskin. It was mostly empty, but he hoped it could calm the inmate for at least a little bit. It did, the hacking ceased. "204?" The prisoner asked.

	When the shaking began again, Leif could hear things breaking above in the next floor, he certainly didn't like the sound of things as dust scattered over them, sending it raining down on them in yellowish-brown clouds. Covering his mouth with the back of his hand, he shut his eyes tight, Divine's know what stuff sat stewing in the dungeons down here, or what the ancient dust held.

"Next year, 205 right now." Farid corrected him. He wanted the waterskin back, but the prisoner hoarded both his and Leif's with jealousy. "Andre, whatever your name is, we've got the key right here. You want out or not?"

"Out? You are not with the guards?" The prisoner gasped. He scrambled to the edge of his cell, hands gripping the bars white-knuckled. "Oh, thank Shor, thank Kyne, thank the..." Stammering past himself rapidly, the prisoner was practically bubbling. "My, my name is Ander. They locked me down here for more than a year now. I thought I was going to starve. Bless you, bless your families."

	Farid traded glances with Leif while Ander babbled on and on. Seems like they found it, the "innocent" undeserving of the punishment. Now they would only need to bust him out, find his buddy and collect the fat stash of coins they were promised. Actually, Farid wasn't so sure about any of that. They still have to get past the sentry, get past palace security and likely do all of the above in the morning sun. One thing at a time, before they rush forward, they might as well learn a bit more about this individual. "Why are you here, what did you do in the first place?" Farid questioned as he searched the right key on the ring. He breathed nervously; what if the sentry played them, what if all the keys are fakes?   

"I, I wanted to join, the, the Thieves Guild." The prisoner answered. He sounded genuine, for a thief anyways. "Leader of the Windhelm chapter ordered me to prove myself, so I did; sneaked into Lodevemar's office." He continued. It was interesting to note that the inmate never stood up, maybe because the cell roof was barely Leif's height (Ander measured up roughly the same), or his stick-thin legs couldn't support his own weight. "Cracked open the biggest safe and ran with everything I could take. Turned out, I wasn't sneaky enough. They found out before I ran past the bridge, and they stuffed me in this rat hole ever since."

"Apparently I stole real important shit." Ander added. Across from the bars, Farid managed to secured the key. Heavy metal bars unlocked with low-pitched clanks, just in time for the third round of rumbling on top. "Something about a prohibition and a shouting school? I don't know, these shit-eating guards roughed me up good."

	As the man revealed himself to be Ander, Leif was less surprised that he was actually apart of the Thieve's Guild, let alone that there was someone running the ring here in Windhelm. Regardless of the fact, Leif knew that whatever reason Farid wanted this man out, they would get him out. He listened quietly to Anders tale of how he had been caught, and in his opinion, running over the Windhelm bridge with a sackful of goodies, didn't seem like a good idea by any means, if he were him, he would've gone through the docks. Yet, there was one thing that piqued his interest, Ander had mentioned that he had stolen important documents with information relating to a shouting school, and something about a prohibition, what in Nine Divine's was he talking about? Hopefully not a prohibition on alcohol, that would certainly sour his attitude.

"Come on, let's get you out of here." Farid said, swinging open the metal bars. Ander lurched forward eagerly, but not succeeding in get anywhere beside Farid's feet. "Someone's seen better days." The Redguard mumbled, then requesting help from Leif. "He needs a sip of your potion, so he can pull some of his own weight." Anders still attempted to get off his ass, which was failure every time. Even if Ander could walk on his own, how would they explain his presence outside? One thing at a time, Farid reminded himself; get the goods squared away then worry about transit. He placed the torch on a nearby holder, as to not burn the prison rags while handling the dirty man. However, just as Farid tested the torch holder, he was almost thrown off-balance by a violent tremor. Massive impacts fell on the floors above, and the entire subterranean section quaked with force. Chunks of dirt, rock and other structural matters dropped around Farid. Covering his head with his arms, Farid bolted from the doors, wishing he could get out before the entire palace collapsed on him. However, the ceiling near the door caved in as soon as Farid took a step forward. Dust blew everywhere. When it and the quakes finally finished a minute later, Farid found the doorway and the first pair of cells completely blocked off by collapsed boulders.

He had just handed over one of his health potions to Ander, who drank it readily when Leif swore violently under his breath as the dust in front of his eyes settled, he could see, barely, in the pitch black darkness save for his flickering torchlight, that some of the foundation had given way, and blocked their exit to the upper levels. Now, there was no way to escape. He withheld an audible groan, seeing no reason to aggravate the situation any further.

"What? What is happening?" Ander cried out desperately and curling into fetal position.

"Long story." Farid sighed. "Akavir, snow demons, catapults and I think we're trapped in." He tested a smaller boulder piece, no budge. Judging by the size of the cave-in, and their current lack of tools, if would take hours, if not days, to dig themselves out. "Great, I came this far just to die in a blown-in jail." Farid vented his frustration by punting a stray rock.

"The tunnels, the tunnels!" Ander shouted between dirt-induced coughs . "That madwoman, she nearly reached the hiss." The feeble man tugged on Leif's sleeves, dragging him to cells further in. "There!" He jabbed at the furthest cell. "You two are strong, you can dig through!"  Leif could not muster a word of protest as he came to stand before the cell Ander had dragged him too, from the looks of it, someone certainly had been hard at work carving through the rocky walls.