[center][h3]Prison Break[/h3][/center] [i]Late Afternoon, 31st of Second Seed Streets of Gilane[/i] [i][sub][@Father Hank] [@RTRON] [@DearTrickster] [@MacabreFox] [@Amaranth][/sub][/i] [hr] It was such a wonderful night. Among friends, a purpose and mission. Far more exciting than providing basics for survival, certainly! It was outside of the aging Argonian’s expertise, something that became apparent to the other members who had seen some form of militant organization, strategy as it were. The feeling of purpose was strong but she struggled to remember why she felt as much. The cooling night, warm stone streets - light reflecting from the ancient dwemer remnants that made up the foundation of Gilane. Beauty and history everywhere she looked. Judena crouched, blue linen draped over her head barely concealing her unique profile. Doubly so for the likes of their new Orc member, Molver. They hid for some reason in alleyways casually observing the receding crowds of people, paying particular attention to guards for some reason. Judena thought it rude to ask again as to [i]why[/i] they were there in the first place, surely she asked before. She saw Nanine and Bryjna across the ways, she lifted her arm to wave but thankfully thought better of it. Observing guards meant they shouldn’t draw certain attention to themselves. The alleyways themselves were inconsistent in length and size, built around aging structures compensating in space that crumbled away centuries ago. Narrowing unexpectedly while widening in others. Curiously the Dwemer spheres and larger automations avoided these areas to some degree. They patrolled the streets with no problems. She patted her chest where her logbook sat. Gripped the shaft of her spear. “Maeve, how much longer are we expected to wait? I am having difficulty remembering why we are here… is it a parade? Why would we come armed to a parade I wonder.” Judena began then snapped her fingers, hissing quietly, “It is because the Poncy Man asked us to be here. I would refer to my logbook but that would require proper reading light and I feel as though drawing attention would be a terrible idea.” Rudeness aside, she inquired anyways. Always better to ask than to not know - thankfully her companions understood her need for reminders. Tolerating the need was another thing. “Rest assured I am ready to do whatever it is we are to do.” She said, earnestly. Unknown to Judena, the three of them drew sticks to who would pair up with the forgetful mage prior to their gathering. Mazrah drew short. Where Judena was full of optimism and enthusiasm despite constantly forgetting what they were supposed to be doing, Mazrah was growing more annoyed every second. Nanine had insisted on disguises, arguing that Mazrah’s appearance was far too distinctive, and now the Orsimer found herself wearing a light robe that covered her [i]entire[/i] body and a sash wrapped around her face, like some common bandit. She hated it. And while she had respect for Judena and the condition she suffered from, her repetitive questions and the wildly different names she used for Mazrah (seemingly everything [i]except[/i] ‘Mazrah’ itself was fair game) were getting on her nerves. “Not a parade, a prisoner escort,” Mazrah corrected Judena for the umpteenth time. “We’re going to break them free. Nanine will signal that it’s time to attack by destroying the Dwemer’s weapons and armor with magic.” That was the light at the end of the tunnel, some earnest combat, and Mazrah was very much looking forward to seeing the battlemage at work. “When the signal comes, follow me and -- look at me, Judena, this is important -- free the prisoners as fast as you can, alright? Don’t forget. Free the prisoners,” Mazrah said, staring intently in Judena’s eyes, her index finger pressing against the Argonian’s sternum. Judena nodded solemnly, the weight of her position rather heavy. Mazrah withdrew her finger and Jude rubbed the spot. Nanine stood next to a market stall, pretending to browse its wares. She wore leather armor hidden by a set of robes, as someone standing in plate armor in the heat of Hammerfell was sure to attract attention. A small sash went over her face, her dark hair braided and tightly hidden under the hood of the robe. A steel longsword sat on her hip next to her own sword. She couldn’t bring herself to leave it out of her sight, but didn’t want to draw it during the raid. She went over the plan once more in her head, to reassure herself.[i]I’ll hit the escort with a lightning bolt to get their attention, then a disintegrate. While they’re distracted, Brynja and the four resistance fighters will attack and engage them. Mazrah will get Judena to the prisoners to free them, then we’ll all run like oblivion itself is on our heels and rendezvous at the [b]Three Crowns[/b]. Simple.[/i] She was relieved that she had convinced the others that disguises were necessary, even if it had required promising a favor to Mazrah. The gleam in the orc woman’s eyes upon Nanine agreeing was a cause of minor concern, but she’d cross the bridge when she came to it. Her eyes were drawn by the sounds of the crowd moving aside, loud voices calling for the path to clear. Four guards were clearing a path to through the street for the cart behind them. That would be their target. She turned to watch it with the rest of the crowd around her, waiting for an opportunity. By Nanine’s insistence, Brynja had given up her steel plated armor in exchange for her tunic and trousers, her cape wrapped around her shoulders, partially obscuring her face. She wasn’t comfortable with the idea of freeing these prisoners, what with the Dwemer operating inside Gilane as they did. While she didn’t fear conflict, the memories of the Jerall Mountains, and the attack on the Imperial City had put her on edge. Not to mention the attack on Elenglynn, along with the near slaughter at the internment camp. The Dwemer weren’t to be trifled with, to make this mission a success, they needed to minimize the possibility for casualties. Her hands rested on the hilt of her longsword as her gaze stared down the cobblestone street, just barely out of sight in a shadowed alleyway. All she needed was Nanine’s signal. The wagon creaked slowly through the wide cobble streets, the crowd of citizens ever-impeding the pace of the convoy. Shakti could tell the guards were getting frustrated at the slowness of the transport. They were already running late and these gawking rubberneckers were doing nothing but staring at the six or so prisoners chained together. The Redguard girl sat with her forearms on her knees, trying to make out faces in the crowd in the slowly-darkening evening light. It was, of course, a fool’s errand. She knew no one in the city except Israhal’s contact, who was just as likely to kill her as save her to prevent the spilling of secrets. There was also the Knight she had ‘dueled’, but he was just as likely to be leading the column. All in all, Shakti found herself in a pretty terrible position. Oh yeah. She had also just lost her father’s sword. She needed to get that back. As the wagon passed Mazrah and Judena’s position, Nanine took a deep breath. [i]Showtime.[/i] The crowd had finally cleared as the civilians realized what was coming through, and she had a clear view of the four guards in front of it. They were only half-alert. After all, who would attack a prisoner caravan in the middle of a city firmly in the grasp of the Dwemer? [i]People with very low self preservation instincts.[/i] Nanine thought with a grim chuckle. Lightning formed in the palm of her hand, and she stepped out onto the street, facing the cart. The guards perked up at the sight of her, but didn’t realize what was happening quickly enough. By the time they noticed she was wielding magic, Nanine was throwing it. Lightning crackled and roared, shooting down the street and crashing into the chest of a Dwemer with the force of a charging mammoth. He flew backwards, slamming into the cart and crumpling to the ground. As soon as the thunderbolt left her hand, Nanine started charging the disintegration spell, both hands held together. The other guards and spheres reacted almost instantly, weapons being drawn and battle cries yelled. Nanine waited a heartbeat, as the spheres became even with the four guards in front, and then released her spell. The blood red ball of mist arced through the air before crashing into the ground amidst the charging guards and spheres. Groaning and grinding could be heard as metal began to give way beneath the spell, crumbling to flakes.. The signal was given, and the fight was on. “Go!” Mazrah hissed at Judena, pointing at the burst of magic that began to eat away at the weapons and armor of the guards closest to where the spell detonated. “Free the prisoners!” she said one last time before dashing out of cover and towards the convoy, spear in hand. The Dwemer and Redguards had their backs to her, their attention fully focused on Nanine and her magic, but if they had been looking the other way all they would have been able to see was a gray-green blur anyway. Mazrah’s footsteps were fast and heavy on the road and by the time one of the Dwemer -- her target -- heard her approach, she was already soaring through the air. Time seemed to slow down as the Dwemer turned his head and locked eyes with the airborne Mazrah for a split second. She had leapt so high that she was sailing over his head and it was almost comical to see his eyes widen in shock before her spear lanced down like a heron’s beak and punched through his armor with ease. Mazrah pulled her spear back as she finished the arc of her somersault and flipped into an upright position, landing gracefully on one knee, the fist of her free hand slamming into the ground hard enough to raise dust in a circle around her. Now aware that they were the target of a two-pronged attack, the other guards turned to face her, yelling in alarm and gripping their weapons -- the ones that hadn’t disintegrated, that is. They were in for a fight now. Though her ferocious snarl was hidden behind the scarf that veiled the lower half of Mazrah’s face, her eyes were alive with the ancestral berserker’s blood that pumped through her veins. She rose to her feet and brandished her spear with a flourish, inviting her opponents to test themselves against her. Meanwhile, behind her, the Dwemer guard crumpled to the earth as he bled profusely from the gaping puncture wound in his neck and gasped for breath, unable to comprehend in his final moments what had happened to him. There was a sizzling noise and the whole wagon was bathed in a sickly blood-red light. Metal creaked and crunched as it flaked off in chunks. Shakti sat ramrod straight and looked for the source of the light. It looked to have come from an alley, but she could not tell which of the myriad of dark passages the spell had flown from. Shakti twisted her body over the edge of the wagon to get a better look at what the guards were doing. Mostly they were whipping their heads this way and that, trying to figure out who had just rusted their weapons and armour to metal-ash. If the Redguard girl had blinked she would have missed the blur that suddenly shot out from the dark, easily leaping over a Dwemer guard and lancing him in the throat. The other prisoners practically simultaneously started to attempt escape, and Shakti was no exception. She stood up and tried to hop off of the wagon, before realising that the irons around her wrist were chained to the floor of the wagon, preventing runaways. Sort of undeterred, (but slightly alarmed at the increasing sounds of violence around her) she shook the irons and wrenched at the chains with her one good arm until that one was surely bruised as well. Judena stood gripping her own spear in one hand, in the palm of her other hand she spoke the spell for Ironflesh, magicka pooled in her palm building up into the shape of a large transparent blue diamond the cool tone brightening her face. She brought it toward her chest, it disappeared into a light that surrounded her entire body. Ready now to fight. Mazrah was right, this was no parade. She repeated in her mind like mantra, [i]Free the prisoners! Free the prisoners![/i] Avoiding combat would help her remember, but it certainly could not be helped. She gripped her spear skirting behind Dwemer backs, one particular guard advanced on Mazrah, she stuck the butt of her staff under their legs forcing them to trip. Smoothly moving past toward the end of the wagon, the rear guard having the moment after Nanine’s attack to compose themselves. A sphere now facing Judena head on, it’s golden sword arm and crossbow for its other. It raised its crossbow firing a bolt directly at her chest. Jude dodged left, the bolt stopped dead against the invisible barrier dropping uselessly to the ground. The impact felt but no penetration. A bruise surely would appear there tomorrow. Her beard expanded, she planted her foot pivoting fully expecting the sword arm to strike next. Striking out she lodged the head of the spear into its arm, throwing off its follow through. It attempted to load it’s secondary bolt. She held the sword arm away, close now she slapped her hand against the sphere’s face plating using transmutation. Transforming the metal of the sphere to thin and softened gold. Stripping away the armour encasing the soul gem strapped into the base of its neck. It flailed it’s sword arm trying to back away. Judena freed her spear, aiming true for it’s head she pierced through it’s lower jaw, slashing the soul gem. It limped immediately, falling to the ground. Jumping over the remains she dashed to the back of the wagon readying frostbite in her palm to chase away the Dwemer guard. The freezing spell coated the guard’s arm, trying in vain to protect their face. Hissing, she warned, “Back away! Go!” They relented the space, calling for help and finding cover on the other side of the wagon -- or at least, attempting to do so, as the guard found the orichalcum tip of Mazrah’s spear slamming into his guts as he rounded the corner. She violently jerked her spear up and out of the Dwemer’s intestines, prompting a guttural spray of blood and gore. “Crunzurga, rohi rakh!” Mazrah yelled in old Orcish and twirled her spear around her as she turned back to the rest of the guards that she had been dancing with. [i]Revenge, lesser blade![/i] It felt good to give them a piece of her mind. [i]Free the prisoners![/i] Jude had to act quickly. Using transmutation once again, softening the iron to gold she smashed the lock. Tugging open the door she spread the doors wide. “Please be patient while I weaken your restraints. We mean you no harm.” The faces all looked to her, races of man and a couple mer. Young and old faces, fleeting fear or defiance. She stepped into the back of the wagon, carefully stepping around the minimal space, some shrinking away at her presence others involuntarily getting her tail in their faces. “Very sorry, I will work quick!” Starting from front to back she felt the strain on her magicka begin as her transmutation softened shackles left and right. She blinked blearily arriving finally with a sigh to Shakti. The youthful Redguard woman held up her wrists, brown eyes regarding her with curiosity. A look Judena was familiar with, gently cusping the shackles, “A strange sight to see an Argonian so far from home and stranger still in the back of a wagon, I only hope this leaves a good first impression.” She cracked a gummy smile. The spell complete Shakti pulled apart the restraints easily. Brynja needed to provide cover for Mazrah, and Judena, there were ten guards and a Dwemer sphere, though six of the guards still had their gear and weapons in tact. Six too many. Her feet were coming down hard as she burst from her hiding spot, the four rebels along the opposing wall burst forth, their own blades drawn. She led the four rebels at full speed, causing three of the guards to turn and face them head on. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was a familiar sensation. Brynja swung her long sword in a sideways arc, aiming at the midsection of one of the guards, where he shimmied away, just out of touch. She left the four rebels to engage the two other guards. A black orb coalesced in Nanine’s hand, glowing with the dark energy of the Oblivion plane as she prepared her spell. She threw the summon in front of the four guards. A Frost Atronach exploded into existence, swinging its club. The already wavering guards were brought to a complete halt, and Nanine prepared her other summons, throwing it next to the Atronach. A Daedroth appeared, crocodile teeth grinning savagely down at the guards. Deciding to take the better part of valor in the face of such creatures, the four guards turned and fled through the streets and alleys of Gilane. Nanine allowed herself a small grin, sending the Atronach and the Daedroth to help Mazrah on the side opposite of Brynja and the rebels. Before she could move closer to the fight, not wanting to fire deadly spells into the chaos of melee combat, the sound of armored boots hurriedly slamming against the cobblestones behind her caught her attention. Turning around she saw a patrol of six city guards moving towards the fight, weapons drawn. Nanine hastily threw a thunderbolt at their feet to slow them down, and turned and ran to the cart. It was time to go. Shakti’s eyebrows raised in surprise as the strange creature transmuted her shackles. So this was an Argonian. She had heard tales, and vaguely knew what they looked like but it was quite something else to see one in person. Still, there was the business of an escape to attend to and Shakti was not one to waste a chance like this. She stood up and nodded a quick “Many thanks, Argonian.” to Judena before hopping out of the wagon and trying to figure out which way the prison was. Stepping over the body and spilled guts (Gross!) of a Dwemer guard, she struggled to see the way they had come from through the streets and fleeing crowd. Her heart deflated slightly. She had known all along that it probably was not the best idea to immediately rush back into prison just to retrieve her sword, no matter how special. But the fact she could not even see the prison made the point hit home. Narrowly avoiding the wayward blow of another guard, Shakti scrambled around the chaos, searching for something she could use as a temporary substitute. Unfortunately, whatever had disintegrated the guards’ weapons and armour was fairly thorough and the young Redguard woman was left out in the cold, vainly searching through blood-streaked bodies for anything resembling a sword. Nanine arrived at the wagon, glancing over her shoulder. The city guards were getting closer. “Alright! We need to get going! City guard patrol is on its way!” She yelled, turning around and throwing an icy spear at the approaching guards, it glanced off of a quickly raised shield, and Nanine cursed, gathering more spells. There was a [i]crunch[/i] and a scream from the other side of the wagon, as her frost atronach clubbed down one of the guards facing Mazrah. Nanine threw a lightning bolt, this time causing the patrol to scatter as it raced towards them and crashed into the cobblestones. “M, grab J and lets get out of here!” Nanine shouted over the cart to Mazrah, she didn’t need to tell the rebels twice. They had already cut down the guards they were facing, two on one being an easy fight, and were guiding what prisoners they could into the alley way and into the shadows of the night. Using her spear to step out of the wagon, Judena stopped to catch her breath. Extensive magic still took a wind out of her, the last of the prisoners scattered to the wind darting every which way. Her allies were taking to the other guards. She felt a swell of pride unaware of a guard in her periphery. Within a split second she turned the full weight of the guard on her, a hand slamming her head against the wagon. It rocked with the weight. Such strength! Fleetingly, the briefest of admiration. The ironflesh held once again, but she felt its force weaken. Wrestling with the guard, they tugged the scarf down over her eyes, where she struggled to loosen their grip on her clothes. She hissed all the while swinging her elbow out wildly, they grasped her head again slamming into the cobblestone. The mage armour cracked and disappeared. Bewildered she brought the shaft of her spear up in defence, a boot of the guard snapped clean through the oak - cracking across her jaw. She felt the cold and ancient weapon against the base of her neck, the curve of the blade suggested an axe and a singular look confirmed that. They swung high and she caught the axe just below the head of the weapon in her hands - squeezing fists around it. The shock of the attack rippled down her arms, sending a painful reminder to her shoulder. Her vision doubled, but her arms held steadfast the Dwemeri guard grunted against the resistance. She croaked, “[i]Help![/i]” Finally, a sword! Shakti triumphantly lifted the strange looking sword from under the mutilated corpse of a Dwemer guard and twirled it a few times, getting a feel for the weight and size of the thing. It was not too long or heavy, which was good because Shakti’s left arm was still throbbing with pain and so she would only be able to use one arm effectively. Judena’s weak cry for help caught the young Redguard’s attention and she whirled to face the sound. The Argonian who had saved her was now pinned against the wagon’s side by a bloodthirsty and angry looking guard. Shakti was not about to let her erstwhile saviour be butchered, no matter how bizarre looking they were. Springing at the distracted guard, she plunged the Dwemer blade through his sternum with a satisfying (if slightly gross) noise. The guard went limp and his axe clattered uselessly to the ground, leaving the rest of his bodyweight to fall backwards onto Shakti, who, startled, propped him up for a moment or two before heaping him off onto the ground. She tried to think of something witty to say, but gave up and silently offered her hand to the Argonian. Following Nanine’s instructions, Mazrah ran up to Judena and Shakti, taking deep breaths to try and slow her thundering heart. Her robes were torn and covered in blood -- some of which was her own, as a Dwemer Sphere crossbow bolt had hit her in the arm and one of the guards had landed a glancing blow against her thigh, but most of it wasn’t -- and her scarf hung lopsided around her face, revealing one cheek full of tattoos and ritual scars. “Up, up,” she said impatiently and did not stop to wait for the Redguard girl to pull the towering Judena to her feet, grabbing the Argonian by the hem of her clothes and yanking her up in a single motion. She spared Shakti a single glance and was surprised to see a young girl there, barely a woman yet. “Girl, follow the Argonian, alright? You’ll be safe with us,” Mazrah said in the most reassuring tone she could muster, considering the circumstances. “I’m not-!” Shakti began and then cut herself off. She sighed and realised it probably was not worth arguing about, not now at least. The reinforcements had arrived despite Nanine’s best efforts to slow them down and Mazrah turned to face them, her spear whirling about her body in a blur as a threatening display. “Go! I’ll distract them for a while,” she said and immediately emphasized the point by charging forward and leaping over the six guards with ease. She could hear Nanine’s conjured monsters (who were awesome and terrifying in equal measure) follow her into the fray and knew that the attention of her enemies would be divided between her and the Daedra. After she landed, she kept low to the ground and struck like a coiled viper, using the enormous reach of her spear to fire off quick jabs and thrusts without fear of retaliation. She had no interest in committing to the fight; she was just buying time for the others to flee, and then she would retreat to the rooftops, using her climbing skills to her advantage. Mazrah figured the guards would not be able to follow her there. Judena groaned, “Muh-maybe another knock about the he-head will…” She trailed off a hand holding her jaw. Dwemeri blood soaked through her clothes, unaware to her - struggling to remain coherent her feet finding the ground for her. Grounding herself she scooped up the remains of her spear hugging it close as she cut a path down an alley following Nanine, assuming Shakti was behind her. The young Redguard woman held her new blade in a reverse-grip and trailed closely behind the two others, occasionally glancing to see if that Orcish woman was also tagging along. This was her only chance, it was now or never. Brynja turned just in time to see Judena and one of the prisoners making their escape into an alleyway. She would bring up the rear, and as she cleared the cobblestone road towards the alley, she spared a glance backwards over her shoulder at the Orc, she could handle herself. She hoped. It didn’t take long before Brynja caught up with Judena, noticing at once something was wrong with the Argonian, “Judena? Judena, are you hurt?” She asked, her focus on moving ahead, yet split with her companion. Looking up to Brynja at the far away sound of her name - Judena replied, “Mhm. Cuh-can walk fine.” Holding her throbbing jaw. “I can wait.” She kept her eyes forward, focused on Nanine’s back. There’d be no use in stopping now. For Judena’s sake, that stubborn old lizard, Brynja grabbed her by the forearm, and slid her arm over her shoulders, one hand against her waist for support. Brynja wasn’t going to take no for an answer from Judena. She wasn’t about to risk her dropping unconscious. At least they could keep up without falling behind. “Mhmm.” She said. Jude didn’t protest. “If you insist, my friend.” Nanine glanced backwards, making sure everyone was keeping up. Byrnja was carrying Judena, good. The prisoner girl that had stuck with them was following, even if she did look confused. She could still sense her summons, battling alongside Mazrah, so she could only assume that the orc was still alive. Regardless, they couldn’t go back for her. More city guard patrols were doubtlessly going to react to the commotion, and they needed to be as far away as possible. They’d just have to trust Mazrah could handle herself. As the number of remaining resistance fighters dwindled, Mazrah found herself on the receiving end of a determined counter-attack by the city guards. They attempted to encircle her but clever maneuvering brought Mazrah to a position where she was with her back against the wall of one of the houses that lined the street they’d been fighting on. She opened her mouth to say something witty but realized that the time for fun and games was over when one of the Dwemer raised a crossbow and aimed it straight at her heart. “Uh oh.” Mazrah bent her knees, gathering up all of her strength, and leapt up and backwards with a balletic backflip, landing on the edge of the house’s first-floor balcony The crossbow bolt missed and harmlessly buried itself in the front door below her with a loud [i]thwack[/i]. The Dwemer yelled and hollered in dismay and alarm as Mazrah scaled the second floor like a nimble gecko and clambered onto the roof where they could no longer see her. Even the one assailant that they had managed to corner had escaped -- that must be a bitter pill for them to swallow, she thought and grinned as she dashed across the rooftops, effortlessly leaping across the gaps between the houses and shops, until she spotted her allies escaping below her on foot through the winding alleys and passageways. Suddenly and without warning, Mazrah dropped into their midst. “Hello there!” she said cheerfully and flashed a smile, immediately keeping pace with them. “That went well, don’t you think?” Shakti did not know what to think of Mazrah suddenly reappearing in their midst like nothing had happened. This whole group that had rescued her seemed very strange. Not bad, but certainly strange. “Where are we going?” Shakti inquired, keeping her voice barely above a whisper, so as not to alert the guards or anyone around who might be listening. Nanine’s hands crackled with lightning again, and she whirled around to face whatever had landed amongst them. She breathed a sigh of relief at the realization it was Mazrah, turning around to keep hurrying along. “Death be damned, I almost zapped you. When we get safe I’ll get that bolt pulled out of your arm and see to any other wounds you’ve got while Brynja looks over Judena. ” She spoke over her shoulder to answer Shakti’s question. “We’re going somewhere safe, for now at least, where the Resistance is being organized. These alleyways should take us straight to the back entrance, away from prying eyes. And, hopefully, away from where the Dwemer will be looking for you and the other prisoners.”