[center][h2][color=orange]Cicero Bladewalker[/color], [color=teal]Gwyneria Elfreda[/color], & [color=darkred]Mysterious Savior[/color][/h2][/center]


Cicero glanced at Gwyn quickly before he made his choice. His leg bled [i]again[/i] which left them without many options. He went prone and rolled under the steel grate as he reached for Gwyn to do the same.

Gwyn nodded in Cicero’s direction and hurried after him under the grate.  She could feel herself drooping off even as she did so, showing that she’d misjudged her reserves [i]again[/i] and this was as good of an escape as they were likely to get.  

The floor slightly sloped downwards as they entered underneath. There was water which flowed by a miniature stream. The air smelled bitter in this damp, dark place.

The man let the two slip past the spikes of the portcullis before closing it, the metal slammed heavily into the floor as the wheel spun back on it's own.

Immediately he started kicking the handles forcefully and when they bent a few hard strikes of his boot later, he growled and yanked one of the bars free. He shot a glare at Gwyneira, though it did not seem malicious - just angry, at nothing.

Then, moving ahead of them both, he jammed the iron bar into a lock-slot of an iron door to the right of the walls. It must have been how he got in here, that was one of the access doors, now barred from intruders. The wheel lever, broken as well.

[color=darkred]"...excuse me."[/color] He said, looking at the floor as he pushed past Cicero.

Without any further ceremony, he threw a handful of spiked metal from a satchel in his vest onto the ground. Caltrops! Mean little traps that rupture the feet of all who step on them, the craft of less savoury characters.

[color=darkred]"Watch your step."[/color]

Whoever this was, from the way he worked through every precaution without hesitation, his expression of emotionlessness, they could see it was not his first time.

The walls were slick with verdant moss and where the sun did not touch, lichen and mold. Still, having to lean on them was a necessity as they made their way quickly down the narrow tunnels. Their benefactor in front leading the way, no light to guide them that even he had to rely on being dirtily guided by the walls.

Gwyn stumbled along, her eyes blinking rapidly in a desperate attempt to stay awake. She wished that she had enough energy to cast a light or even heal Cicero’s new leg wound right now and cursed her waste of magic in that ice canopy to protect against what had turned out to be ordinary rain. If their guide hadn’t shown up, death would have been the most probable ending. She was pretty sure the guy had been Cicero’s visitor earlier from the voice and his hood, but couldn’t know for certain with how gosh darned tired she was. Still, he was owed some thanks unless he turned out to be Cicero’s sorcerer that he’d talked about before.

[color=teal]”Sir,”[/color] She softly called, being careful not to make too much noise in case others were listening for them. [color=teal] “Thank you for helping us out there. I’m not sure we would have escaped without you.”[/color]

[color=darkred]"I- ..."[/color] He paused, looking over his shoulder at her direction for the briefest of moments when she spoke, then turning back,[color=darkred] "...we're not out yet."[/color] His voice wavered with a degree of uncertainty.

Cicero followed the two as best he could. Despite the slippery surfaces he managed to stay afoot evading the caltrops. However, his eyes were not adjusting properly to the darkness. Cicero could barely see in front of him. His mind raced as to the latest turn of events. The king was slain and everyone believed it was by his hand! By some miracle he had managed to kill him during single combat. It was utterly ridiculous. Cicero's heart weighed heavily as he proceeded through the tunnels. Despised and rejected by his own people. He would get whoever was at fault. They would be brought to justice.

As they descended further a handful of long minutes in, the air became uncomfortably damp and musty. They could only hear the splashing of the stream in between their feet and their own footsteps. It quickly got too dark to see, even for elven eyes, swinging his backpack in front of him, he dug for a small stick with cloth wrapped around it and a thumb sized device, pressing the block into the fibres - it glowed red hot.

Firelight flooded the once dark man-made caverns...

It was then they heard a loud crash echo through the tunnels! Again and again. The groan of abused metal followed. Someone cussed loudly in pain. The sounds prompted him to heft his backpack, taking longer strides forward with torch in hand now, almost breaking into a run ahead of them.

[color=darkred]”Put up anything to slow them down. That trick."[/color] He hushed his suggestion in a hurried [color=red]'DO-IT-NOW'[/color] kind of fashion.

Cicero whispered back, [color=orange]”Gwyn can't cast anything. She is at her limit. We have to find another way.”[/color] He looked at his companion and around for a way to use the stream against their followers. How would they lose their pursuers? Then the thought hit him. [i][b]The vial[/b][/i]. [color=orange]”Gwyn! In my bag there's an orange vial. Drink it now!”[/color] Cicero whispered as loudly as he could so that she could he at the urgency and at the same time not alert their pursuers. 

Gwyn raised her eyebrow, but opened Cicero’s pack and took out the vial, wondering why this would help. As she opened it, the smell overwhelmed her senses, but she forced herself to drink it in spite of it. The instant she swallowed the sip, her tired mind shocked itself awake. The world was suddenly a song, thrumming with power and life, like the first moments of her awakened magic when she danced to the songs of her ribbons of light. She felt like lighting would spring from her fingertips and smite the pursuers to gleeful laughter, but she forcibly held herself back.  Why was it so hard to keep a clear head? Was this like being drunk?  Instead, she smirked as she caused a large portion of the stream behind them to become clear ice, perfect for slipping on. That would slow the guards down. She then turned around to the others and said, [color=teal]”Let’s go!”[/color] Then she ran ahead.