[center][h3]Five Finger Discount: Raiding the Local Garrison [/h3] [hr] [@Dervish][@POOHEAD189][@MacabreFox][@LadyTabris][@Greenie][@MiddleEarthRoze][/center] [I]Outside of the Guard HQ, close to midnight, 31st Second Seed, 4E208CE[/I] In an abandoned storehouse a block away from the guard headquarters, a candle-lit table sat with a number of figures in darkened and light attire gathered around, staring down at a map that was hand-drawn by one of the members of the Insurgency that had once served as apart of the city guards prior to the invasion. It laid out the buildings around the guard outpost and the floorplan of the two-story building, including the high walls and potential blind spots for patrols and lookouts. The building’s ground floor, from East to West, was the barracks containing twenty beds which were separated by privacy walls, a privy to the North of that room, and a common area to the West, which branched off into an armoury, which was kept behind a locked door with no windows, a reception area, and a cafeteria. Adjacent to the reception area was a walled in, open-topped area that was used as a training area, and a separate entrance lead into a prison, where the upstairs was for temporary holding and prisoner belonging storage and reception, and a locked and barred stairwell down lead to a number of prison cells. The yard also contained a stable that housed a number of horses and camels and supplies, as well as prisoner transport wagons. The second floor of the building housed a limited officers quarters, a private room for the commander of the guard, and the administration offices. It was likely where the documents were kept, although the prison itself was a likely place to look. Daro’Vasora looked around at the familiar faces around the table and mused that it almost looked like they were about to tell each other spooky stories to pass the time with the dim and haunting lighting. “Alright, let’s go over the plan one last time. We’re not here to free prisoners, and we are going to avoid killing anyone if possible; in and out as quickly as possible without being discovered. I will unlock the front door, and someone will have to subdue the guards who may be present without waking up everyone who’s asleep. From there, I’ll get us upstairs and get those offices open and begin looking for paperwork. Someone’s going to have to find the prison keys and do something similar for the prison itself. In and out, no stupid shit.” “What if your stupid shit, works?” Alim asked to the utter silence of the group. “Don’t answer that. Anyway, I believe I should be adequate in...pretty much all of that. I can subdue the guards or infiltrate where you like. Or both, and Anifaire can see where they might have the documents and uniforms?” Anifaire nodded aimlessly, completely unsure if that was even something she could undertake. But, anyone could just [i]look[/i] for documents. It must be simple enough. She looked down at the map another time, furiously trying to remember the details in case she needed them. The Altmer felt entirely out of place in a resistance mission, but she glanced over at Alim and tried to remember what he’d said to her. Her stomach churned. "Sounds good t'me," Meg chimed in, lifting her gaze away from the map to look at Daro'Vasora instead. It had been a long time since she had snuck about in a place like they would be breaking into, but she trusted herself not to get into any trouble. "I'mma see if I can find that prison key." “I don’t think I’m… fit for this,” Rhona said quietly, “but I uh… I can serve as a distraction. Or, I can create a distraction.” “I’m going to say this as gently as possible,” Daro’Vasora said, looking over towards Rhona with studious eyes. “But I’m not sure why you signed up for this job after everything you went through, and if you don’t think you’re capable of this sort of thing, why be here? Go back, you’ll be safe there.” Rhona’s brows furrowed over the way Daro’Vasora addressed her, she opened her mouth to speak, when Mortalmo took a single step forward. “She is entirely capable of providing aid to this endeavor.” He cast a meaningful glance towards the Breton, before turning his focus back towards Daro’Vasora. “And if we do not all do our part to strike at the Dwemer interlopers, I do not suspect that any of us will be... safe. Surely, furred one, you must concur?” “It’s up to Rhona, of course.” Alim said, leaning back in his chair. “But I think she’d make a fine distraction. It’d make my job easier, at least. And then if we get into more trouble we could use her knife.” The Redguard turned to her. “That is, if she’s light on her feet.” Daro’Vasora pinched the bridge of her snout, tail flicking. “I’d prefer we don't put anyone at needless risk as distractions or bait, but if that's what you lot feel is right, I won't object. Rhona, you stay close to Durantel, Durantel?” she looked up at the Altmer, her tone lacking its typical edge and instead seemed to carry an air of sincerity. “Keep her safe. I want everyone to make it home tonight. That goes for everyone; if you aren't sure, stick with a partner and don't put yourself at needless risk. Each of us is worth more than the entire sum of the stuff we're after. If anyone has anything else, let's wrap this up and get moving out. Remember; prisoner manifest, patrol routes, and as many sets of uniforms as we can make off with. If any of you mages know a feather spell, you’re going to be a huge help.” “I can do that one,” Anifaire said, her voice a pitch higher as she hurried to interject. A sense of pride rushed over her. Having remained silent in the hushed conversation so far, Sol’s eyes darted around the group, settling on Rhona dubiously. He hadn’t seen her in action so he couldn’t exactly judge her ability - but her hesitation was worrisome. However, it appeared that Durantel had her back, surprisingly, as Sol would do so for whoever needed him. He had no magic or lockpicking skills to offer, but he could put down a soldier quietly enough… guaranteeing their life was another matter entirely. Usually when one met him in an altercation, it only ended with one party deceased. “Put me where you need me.” He said simply, voice muffled by his headgear and nodding at Daro’Vasora. He had to admit, for someone who was reluctant to take the job, she was doing a fine job at leading so far. Even back at the Dwemer ruin, which seemed eons ago now, she had succeeded in guiding himself and the others across the foe-filled darkness. A prison job seemed like nothing compared to that. “Alright, Solandil, you stick with me unless something comes up. Let’s get to it.” She replied. With that, everyone began to file out of the room and before long, were creeping throughout the streets and taking it slowly, keeping an eye open for patrols and guards that would not hesitate to oppose them. Lead by Daro’Vasora, the team made good, if tepid, time. The closer they drew to the guard headquarters, the more it felt like they were about to enter the lair of a dangerous beast. They saw the structure soon enough, the second story of the building over a three-meter wall, a gate barring the way with a pair of guards stationed outside of it. They moved around the sides, where it was mostly open ground, and all were aware of the lookout tower coming out of the top of the building, one guard visible doing periodic checks on all sides, but not with any sort of routine or particularly rigid discipline; whoever was up there was likely bored and after night after night, week after week of no real issues due to the harshly enforced curfew, complacency probably was a trait the guards all shared. One way or another, that was about to change. The team was given a pair of grappling hooks and ropes to get over the walls; one for getting over, the other for getting down. The problem was, however, sound; using them in such a quiet night might attract attention from the guards outside. The wall, however, looked like it was pitted and worn down from the elements and years of exposure that a few of the more agile climbers could make it up without too much difficulty, but it would take time, and they would be exposed if anyone happened to see them climb up. “I guess this is the point of no return; those two guards need to be taken away from the gates, be it by force, or that distraction Rhona was alluding to.” Daro’Vasora mused, eyeballing the walls. She grabbed a handhold, testing its support. “Well, figure it out, I’m going over one way or another.” she said, reaching above to dig her claws into a hand hold and soon was beginning her nearly silent ascent. "I'm thinkin' might be best t'keep the dead bodies a low count," Meg muttered, looking to the others. A dead guard would be easier for the night, but who knew how that would pan out when the corpses were discovered. They would simply have to be as stealthy as they usually were, or more. “No sense in wasting time,” Rhona said under her breath, “Right. I’m on it.” She looked once up at Mortalmo saying, “Keep an eye on me in case this doesn’t work.” The Altmer nodded. And with that, she made her way down the cobblestone street towards two Hammerfell guards standing in the glow of torchlight. She held her staff in hand, her grip tightening in fear, knowing full well that she couldn’t let them down. She had to pull this off just right, her mood, her tone, and outward expression. If she messed this up, it might spell disaster for the group. Rhona took a deep breath, and tried to steady herself. Her heartbeat slipped and fluttered, where was this coming from? She would have never had volunteered for such a thing before. Why had she opened her mouth in the first place. But it was too late, there was no going back. The guards had spotted her, and she raised a hand in a friendly gesture. “H-hello!” She called, her anxiety rising as her voice cracked. “What are you doing out at this hour? Don’t you know that there’s a curfew?” One Redguard confronted her, moving his hand to the hilt of his scimitar. “I’m terribly sorry! I’m aware, I… I seem to have lost my way! I just arrived in the city today, and I was trying to find the inn I’m staying at but I can’t seem to remember which road to take, or what part of the city it’s in.” She hoped that this would give her companions time to start moving. [hr] Silently sending up a call for help and success to Talos, Mara, and any other magnanimous divine being, Meg took a small breath, steadying herself. She could hear Rhona in the distance and hardly wanted to waste her efforts. She too eyed the wall like Daro'Vasora; while she didn't have claws like the khajiit, there seemed to be enough place for fingers to grab on to. For the height of the wall, she didn't think it would take her too long. A small nod to herself and the Nord began her climb, a little unsure at first but building up speed as she went. The trick was confidence, at least for her, and of course determination. She refused to be the one to bring anyone down. Alim grinned, and he slipped back behind cover again, having just watched Rhona go to work. She would be fine, he knew. She might not be confident in herself, but he had confidence in her. [i]Speaking of which[/i], he thought, glancing at Anifaire. “I’ll climb up and hook the rope up top, you can climb and follow.” he whispered to her, giving a smile and a wink. With that, he turned around, hesitated for just a moment before he began to ascend as if it was a paved road one walked upon. Anifaire had been nervously standing behind Alim, eyeing the wall in doubt. She had no doubt she’d have never made it over. With Alim’s words, some of the tension leaked out of her muscles. A rope, she could handle. She smiled at him gratefully, which turned to surprise as she watched him scale the wall like a cat. She wrapped herself tighter in the worn cloak, clean but in bad shape, hiding her nicer clothes. She had a sudden concern they may rip. Beside Anifaire, Solandil too awaited for an easier path up the wall to become available. While he could manage stealth on flat ground, climbing freely up a wall in his armour was just a recipe for disaster. He was no gymnast, and his cumbersome clothing would only make a difficult task even harder… and louder. Thankfully he wasn’t the only one present with failings in climbing, and he watched on as Alim scaled the wall in seconds. The man was even more nimble than Daro’Vasora, and that was saying something considering the naturally agile feline specie which she belonged to. The spellsword vaulted over the last parapet, landing deftly and methodically untangling the rolled up rope. Placing the hook on the edge of the wall, he silently lowered the rope for Anifaire, and Sol as well when he saw his presence waiting expectedly. “Take your time,” Alim whispered, his voice only barely comprehensible, but filled with patient and care. Anifaire grabbed the rope first, nervous to be the only one left on the group. Hauling herself over the wall took far longer than it did for the others, but there were just barely enough footholds for her to manage it. Her hands were sore and a bit cut up from the rough rope. At the top of the wall, she paused to catch her breath, giving a grateful smile to Alim through her winded panting. The height on the other side was out of her mind as she swung down, gripping the top of the wall, desperate to have her two feet on the ground again. She scrambled down, tripping just a few feet off the ground. The Altmer landed on her side with a thud that she thought would bruise later. Waiting impatiently at the foot of the wall, Sol scanned his surroundings carefully to ensure no-one would happen upon them on the other side. Rhona was distracting a handle of guards, but there was no telling if one were to show up at the wrong place and time. Hearing a soft thud on the other side as Anifaire finally made her way up and over, Sol began his own ascent as quickly as he dared. Armour plate clinked together lightly, but the sound wouldn’t carry much in the night air. Soon Sol had joined Anifaire and Alim on the other side, but Daro’Vasora had already set off to begin the dangerous task of infiltrating the building. Squinting in the dark, Sol followed the disappearing figure of the Khajiit. While Alim worked on fastening the grappling hook, Daro’Vasora was nearly off the wall on the other side, having pulled herself over the precipice without incident and her nimble and light frame was well-suited for this sort of thing. With feline grace, she touched down nearly silently and like a ghost, she made her way across the courtyard, her eyes looking for movement in the dark that would betray her position while her soft-soled boots touched down without sound, her heels touching down while the movement of her foot rolled across the dirt evenly until finally her toes pushed off from the ground. It was so automatic after years of practice, but it prevented her feet from creating a loud cadence of a singular impact point like a soldier on the march. Out here, in the open air, it wasn’t a huge deal even in the dead silence of night, but in a cavern or tomb even the most minute sounds echoed off of the narrow chambers. If one wanted to get in and out without incident, you had to know how to avoid trouble. And here she was marching right into it. [I]Alkosh, I hate being responsible.[/I] she thought darkly, hearing the commotion at the gates with Rhona and she hoped that the guards weren’t quick to the blade. A part of her felt like she should have volunteered herself to protect Rhona, but she knew her skills were best utilized elsewhere. There was no way she would be able to handle a couple of skilled Redguard warriors in an honest fight, so it would have been stupid to risk it. For now, the best thing she could do for the others was to make the way accessible. Reaching the front door and testing the handle, it refused to budge, much to the Khajiit’s expectations. Absentmindedly, she surveyed the lock, identifying it as one that required a more curved feeler pick and her finger traced down to the fourth pick set on her shoulder, sliding it out from the hoop. Shoving the tension wrench into the narrow lock, she felt it settle at the end of its traversal and began to apply pressure against the plug. The pick came in like a sickle, pushing up on the pins in succession, the lateral force preventing them from falling free once they hit the bottom of the channel’s cut and shearline that corresponded with the shape of the key. It only took a couple of seconds of fiddling with each pin head until they all were settled and not returning to their resting position and with a twist of her wrist, the well-lubricated plug rotated easily. The door was unlocked. Turning to look towards the others, Daro’Vasora decided to wait for backup before opening the door and confronting what might lay on the other side. "Nice," Meg whispered as she quietly scampered over, complimenting the Khajiit’s prowess at picking the lock. Her climb up the wall had been without incident for which she was grateful, but the cynical part of her mind reminded her that this was just the start of the mission and things could easily go wayward. After a moment's decision, the Nord carefully pulled an arrow from her quiver, holding it and her bow loosely as she waited for the others. Better to be prepared; if there was someone on the other side of the door, she didn't want them getting the best of her group. [hr] “And what part of the city [i]are[/i] you trying to go to?” The Redguard’s companion spoke up, in the dark, she could barely distinguish the features of the Dwemer guard. It was the distinct facial hair that helped her identify him. “Oh goodness, I don’t know! What is the name of the inn… let me see.” Rhona tapped her chin thoughtfully, actually trying to name an inn or part of the city clear across on the opposite side of Gilane. Nothing was coming to behind and she began to panic. “Well? We don’t have all night.” The Redguard growled. “I know it was near the market, close to the harbor, I found it on my way into the city after leaving the ship.” She said, chewing on her lip. [i]Nocturne, guide me, and my friends[/i], she thought to herself. “The harbor is located clear across the city.” The Dwemer commented, “It is after hours, and we strictly enforce our curfew hours. Surely the inspectors forewarned you?” “They did, yes, I seemed to have let the time get away from me, is there any way you could point me in the right direction?” She asked, the last thing she needed was an arrest. Where was Mortalmo? [hr] Daro’Vasora noticed that the situation at the gate wasn’t going entirely smoothly, and time might not be an ally for this particular assignment. “Well, I guess it’s time to wing it. Meg,” she said, turning to the mousy Nord who had joined her. She gestured at the bow. “You might have to use that. See if you can get a shot on the guy in the tower; if it comes down to them verses any of us, the choice should be pretty clear. If it sounds like Rhona is in trouble, don’t hesitate.” She turned her attention to the door. “Fuck it, here goes.” She entered the station, her eyes adapting to the dark; only moonlight gave the reception area any light, and the Khajiit assumed that no one was at the desk because no one was going to be waiting around after curfew to take complaints and reports from people who were legally barred from showing up. All the better. It gave her a bit of freedom to skulk around in the shadows, and she found herself behind the reception desk before long and she very carefully began to pull out drawers, searching for any papers that would have been of use; most of it was typical stationary, most of it not filled out in the slightest, but there wasn’t even so much a list of names. Instead, hanging on the wall in a small locked cabinet that had a simple lock that gave way easily were a few sets of keys; not knowing which was which, she grabbed the bunch carefully, wrapping each one with paper to keep them from shifting and ringing, and brought them to the door, putting them gently down in the door frame; one of them had to get into the jailhouse. That done, Daro’Vasora began to ascend upstairs, stepping very carefully as she could closer to the wall to give her some concealment if someone looked down the stairwell, the stone steps were also fortunate in the sense they were incapable of creaking like wood. When she reached the landing, she glanced back down and hoped that someone was capable of dealing with the armour sets they needed to acquire. Maybe she should have told them to barricade the barracks door just in case, she thought shrugging the thought off and heading further ahead. The room opened up into an office, with a number of desks and cabinets with piles of papers, maps, and all manner of signs of working life present, like personal momentos like a little wooden horse on one, a dagger on another, a half-finished doll on another. Daro’Vasora reminded herself what she needed to look for, [I]Prisoner transfer list, guard schedule.[/I] she knew she’d have to jot it down when she found it; if it was found that’s what the raid was going for, the guards may change everything. Suddenly, she didn’t feel very grand about this whole plan. Finding some blank stationary and and inkpot and quill, she set it up by a window that had enough moonlight for her to read clearly and began her search. She didn’t hear the door down the hall open. [hr] Mortalmo clung to the shadows, watching silently as the two guardsmen scrutinized Rhona. It did not appear as if her ruse would be holding up for much longer, what with their harsh and questioning tones, and the way their bodies seemed to tense as they drew closer. Taking the path of a wide half circle to avoid their line of sight, he began stalking towards them. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. The dearth of usable cover made the situation further from ideal than he would have liked. “Mm. We should just take her in, you know the rules. Any persons outside after dusk are to be taken into custody, and questioned.” “You’re right...” The Redguard turned his attention back to Rhona. “What did you say your name was lass?” He was nearly upon them now, and sent a quick prayer to Auri-El that Rhona’s presence was enough to prevent either from deigning to turn their heads. Clutching a sharpened dagger in each hand, Mortalmo recalled Daro’Vasora’s notion that killing should be avoided if at all possible. Well. Like a serpent finally uncoiling, Mortalmo rose to his full height and sprinted forward the last few meters, before plunging a blade deep into the neck of either guard. Any cries or shouts that would have escaped their mouths were quickly replaced by the gurgling of blood welling to their lips. Mortalmo unceremoniously shoved the Redguard to the ground, before doing the same to the Dwemer. They twitched and spasmed, eyes wide in silent agony. Mortalmo considered them as he began to speak. “They pose a miserable sight, do they not?” Rhona’s brows rose in surprise at the sight of Mortalmo plunging his blades into the guards, she stared back aghast, “Mort-”, she corrected herself immediately, “Durantel what did you do?” “No it doesn’t matter.” She sighed, “we need to move their bodies. C’mon then. You grab one, I’ve got this one.” [hr] With her bow already strung and arrow at the ready, Meg didn't have to do much in preparation aside from training her arrow on the tower, and waiting. It wasn't a long wait either; she could see the guard abruptly standing up from whatever they'd been preoccupied, letting out an urgent call as he began to sound the bell. With all that racket, their mission was sure to fail. The risk wasn't worth it. "Oh no y'don'," she muttered under her breath. Adjusting her aim the slightest bit, Meg let her arrow fly. Without waiting to see if the first one struck, she immediately pulled another one from her quiver and nocked it. The guard seemed frozen in place and the ringing of the bell came to a trailing pause; Meg let her next arrow fly, and this time she saw it hit him square in the chest, sending the guard toppling out of sight. Hopefully Durantel had taken care of the rest below; there wasn't anything else she could do from here. As the others had already entered and headed off to their assigned tasks, she had no need to worry about someone waiting to attack on the other side of the door. Still, habit had her walking with light steps, peeking inside before even thinking to step in. Green eyes scanned the area, or attempted to. There wasn't much light aside from the moon, so she had to strain her eyes. From what she could see once her eyes adjusted to the darkness, they had entered the reception area. [i]Prison should be t'the left then.[/i] She looked down as she lifted her foot to step inside; sure there were no tripwires or runes here, but once again there was the force of habit. In this case it wasn't a bad thing, as she easily spotted the small bundle of papers in the doorframe. Crouching down, she reached out and put her hand on one; it was easy enough to feel the keys wrapped inside the paper. Smiling a little at the sense of caution, she felt the other two bundles; just like the first, they too were keys. Well, it seemed at least she didn't have to worry about finding the keys... then again she only need one of the sets, but who could tell which was the one she needed without seeing the door she'd have to unlock and testing the keys? Assuming for the time being that no one else needed them, she scooped up all three sets, still wrapped in paper, and shoved them under her belt. Once she figured out which one she needed, she'd try to return the other two. Making sure the keys were secure, she finally headed into the reception area and to the west, recalling the blueprints they had seen earlier in the night. Keeping close to the walls to avoid any unwanted collision, Meg silently made her way further west into the reception area until she finally reached the closed off training area. [i]Ah hah[/i]. Not far away would be the entrance to the prison. Slightly proud at not botching things up yet, Meg headed through said entrance and soon came to a pause, deliberating whether she ought to head up where the office would be, or whether she should first unlock and unbar the door that lead down to the cells. [i]Well, no use havin’ keys on me if I don’ go an’ try ‘em.[/i] With that thought, she headed for the door, carefully pulling out the first set of keys from it place under her belt and unwrapping the paper. She then resisted the urge to let the piece of paper fall to the ground, tucking it under her belt with one hand as she scrutinized the keys with both her eyes and fingers. [i]Hm...[/i] Turning toward the door, Meg reached out and tentatively felt the lock. They didn't quite feel as if they would be a match, but better safe than sorry- until she found the right one, she would test each and every key. The first set was a dud. [i]'Course it's the wrong one.[/i] Her own thoughts were dripping with sarcasm, and if she wasn't in the current situation and instead in a 'fun' tomb raiding adventure, she might have even laughed. At the moment though, there was not even a twitch to her mouth as she wrapped the set and stowed it under her belt once more. Out came the next set instead. There would be no breaks here. [i]Mara give me patience[/i], growled her mind when the fifth key in the second set ended up not fitting as well. Perhaps the goddess heard her annoyed silent call, because the sixth key slid in as easily as a knife slipped into soft butter. [i]Now[/i] the Nord allowed herself a little grin. [i]There y'are, m'pretty li'l key.[/i] She pulled the key out without unlocking the door, and with it still in her hands she swiftly headed back to the reception area, ready to deposit the other sets back where she had found them. [hr] Anifaire, trying her best to make her footsteps fall silently, but failing utterly, made her way to the doorway where Daro’Vasora and Meg had disappeared. She felt clumsy and conspicuous compared to her far more light-footed companions. Her clothes ruffled with each step as she silently berated herself for her ill-suited skillset. Hurrying to get out of the open, she entered the reception area ahead of Alim and Sol, but found no one else in sight by the time she arrived there. She walked slowly across the room, stopping to poke carefully around at the desk. The Altmer began reading documents and opening drawers, finding nothing that seemed to match what she was looking for. Several minutes passed. Her nerves eased more the longer she stood there without incident. When she began flicking through documents in the third drawer, she realized how stupid she’d been; there was no way the others passed through here without searching already. She shoved the drawer shut just a bit too loudly. The wood clacked against the desk and she jumped up, standing stiff as a board. Moments passed, Anifaire afraid to so much as breathe, but no one came. Slowly releasing her breath, she moved as far from the desk as she could, backing away from the training area. Her thoughts were moving faster than she could think them, racing away from her grasp each time she tried to grab one. Finally, she settled on one thing: she couldn’t just stand around being of no use to anyone else. Determined, she tried to remember the map she’s studied and headed for the door opposite the training room. She turned the knob slowly, the door sliding open inch by inch without a sound. Anifaire moved as slowly as she could, dreading the [i]tap, tap, tap[/i] of her own footfalls. Compared to the silence of the building, they sounded like an earthquake. She took about three steps into the room, scanning each corner until she turned directly to her left. There, next to her, was a guard. She stumbled backwards in surprise. She tripped over the corner of her cloak and lost her balance, tumbling against the wall. With some success, she caught herself and stuck there, hanging onto the wall, utterly still as she waited for the guard to move. To her surprise, he didn’t. Slowly, she straightened herself and backed away from him, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the light snoring. As quietly as she could, she scrambled back into the reception area, swinging the door shut. With the solid door between her and the sleeping guard, she let out a huge breath, leaning her back against the door and sliding down to the ground. She stood there quietly, trying with all her might not to panic. Alim poked his head into the room, then sauntered in, casually eating a banana. “Good job.” he said with his mouth full. He glanced at the sleeping guard, and raised his facewrap before he shook the man’s shoulder roughly. After a few shakes, the guard came to groggily, then snapped to attention. “Captain? I wasn’t asleep I-” Alim slammed the butt of his dagger into the man’s head, and the guard toppled, falling off his perch and onto the ground. Alim’s next words were somewhat normal volume. “It’s easier to deal with them that way.” Anifaire choked on her words, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she finally just nodded in agreement. Sol, having followed Alim into the room, looked at the dead guard apathetically, and wondered if it was even worth hiding the body at this rate. The stealth part of their mission wasn’t working impeccably so far, if the brief ringing of the bell earlier was anything to go by. "Oh, hey." Meg had just re-entered the reception, not expecting anyone there but nonetheless glad to see not just Anifaire but Alim and Sol as well. The latter two seemed their usual selves, while the former much more perturbed; Meg suspected it had something to do with the guard guard she'd nimbly stepped over on her way here. "Glad t'see y'both're fine, unlike that milk drinker there. Here." She held out both hands, each of them holding a set of keys. "Reckon you'll be needin' 'em. Managed t'find the one for the prison." Anifaire accepted one pair of keys, daintily grabbing it, worried about dropping them and making a loud noise. [hr] Daro’Vasora’s eyes caught a parchment that contained a list of names, followed by districts and streets, she presumed. It looked to be what she was looking for. A grin creeped upon her face. “Got you.” she said. “Gotcha!” A voice came behind her, that certainly didn’t sound like anyone she knew. Suddenly, rough hands grabbed her shoulders and shoved her hard against a desk, rattling the contents and winding her. One of the guards, she presumed, stared at her with malicious intent. He sneered at her, “What do you think you’re doing, thief? Coming into the - [i]ARGH![/i]” he shouted, claws tearing into his arm enough to draw blood and loosen his grip. The Khajiit headbutted him and grabbed the parchment, shoving it into her shirt as she scurried behind some furniture, wincing at her back. She considered herself lucky the brute didn’t simply smash her head against the desk and beat the shit out of her. “Everyone, up! We’ve got an intruder!” He shouted. Daro’Vasora’s heart raced. [I]Oh, fuck.[/I] She moved low to the ground, trying to keep coverage between her and the man who was moving much quicker than she was. The sound of a sword leaving its scabbard chilled her; she knew of the reputation of the Redguards and their prowess with a blade, she simply couldn’t compare. Her mace was soon in hand, and she held her breath, slipping behind a desk and waiting for her quarry to draw near. Footsteps were upon her, and she heard scrambling in the adjacent room. Time was short, as soon as she saw the man’s shin’s, she drove her mace hard towards them, striking the man hard in the unprotected legs; the sound of cracking bone filled the air, along with his agonized scream, which caused Daro’Vasora’s ears to pull back in pain and anticipation; nothing good was coming from this. She drove the mace down hard into the man’s sword arm that was bracing him against the floor, and his grip released on a rather curious looking sword; it was a scimitar-like blade similar to what the other guards used, but much longer and more ornate. It looked like a family sword, or a custom order. The Khajiit immediately rebuked her mind for travelling to such trivial thoughts when her life was imperilled. She scooped up the blade without much of a thought, keeping it from the man’s hands, and sprinted towards the staircase, shouting down, “Time to go!” as she ran towards the door for the others’ benefit. They were going to be in a world of shit if the guards mobilized, and the officers upstairs certainly were about to. [hr] Having returned to the prison entrance with a single set of keys, it was with relative ease that Meg unlocked and unbarred the door, feeling relatively proud of herself. With Alim and the two Altmer taking care of the prison’s upper level and the armoury, she had decided to take a little tour of the actual prison cells and see if there was anything or person that may have useful information with them. Wary of prison guards, she once more kept to the walls, keeping her steps as light and noiseless as possible. The trek down wasn't too long, and it was actually sparsely lit with torches places in sconces at small intervals. Of course, while this made it easier for Meg to see where she was headed, it also meant that her shadow could be seen slinking about for anyone who cared to pay attention. None of that mattered however when the sound of commotion sounded from upstairs, followed by a voice she clearly recognized as Daro'Vasora's telling them to get going. [i]Shit.[/i] As if that wasn't enough, there was the sound of someone moving towards her, probably wishing to see what in Talos' name was going on upstairs. Whether she wanted to or not, Meg had no choice this time. Grabbing her sword, she took the guard by surprise, slamming the pommel up against his face. By the sound that followed, she could tell the hit had broken his nose. "Argh!" He stumbled to his knees, holding a hand against his nose. Taking the opportunity once more, she slammed the pommel against the back of his head, rendering him unconscious. "Hey, let us out!" Meg's eyes jerked to the cell where she could see she had garnered an audience. This was becoming more of a commotion than she had wanted. [I]This[/I] was why she'd rather deal with undead who couldn’t talk more than a snarl here and there. Maybe it was a good idea though. From the sounds of it, the guards upstairs had been alerted... a distraction could be exactly what was needed so she and her comrades could escape. Within a couple of minutes, most the cells were unlocked. [i]I'm gonna regret this[/i] the Nord thought to herself as she unlocked the last cell and turned on her heel, not waiting to see if the Redguard inside came out or stayed where he was. Whatever the case was, there were more than enough prisoners on the loose now. As she scurried up the stairs and headed for the reception door, she could only hope enough chaos was being caused so that her band of five would go unnoticed. [hr] Meanwhile, Alim and Anifaire had made it to the upper levels of the prison. It was dark and filled with pitfalls and iron bars. However, Alim knew prisons (you could guess why) and oddly enough, most prisons around Tamriel were similar. The guardposts were placed near each exit and the warden’s office was above the prison. He didn’t know why. Perhaps to keep an eye on the prisoners. Either way, he was certain the armory was close. They always kept it near the outer edge of the prison, close to the guard posts. Sol followed close behind the pair, keeping close to ensure he didn’t become lost in the dark corridors. Having failed to locate Daro’Vasora (And deciding that the smaller rogue would be more than adept at finishing the job without him), Sol had followed Alim and his fellow Altmer in acquiring the uniforms. If any Redguards showed up, at least they had an extra pair of hands (and swords) available to put them down. As they moved, Alim could feel the unease rising in Anifaire, and he grabbed her hand gently and guided her forward. “Keep low,” he whispered. Anifaire ducked quickly, a bolt of fear piercing her chest. Her grip was tight, both on the key rings in one hand and on Alim’s in the other, knuckles slightly white. She nervously watched Alim, not wanting to stick her head into the open to check, and not daring to say a word. It took another uncomfortable minute, but Alim found a door that looked suitable for the armory. Thick oak with iron bars riveted to it to give it strength in case of a riot. Luckily, they needn’t break it down. Merely unlock it. He unlocked the door with a simple twist of his wrist, and opened it to reveal the armory. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was used to disappointment on missions like this, but he didn’t want that to be Anifaire’s experience. Iron and steel swords gleamed on the racks, amongst other weapons set in piles and locked in chests. Shields adorned the walls, and suits of armor were set on stands so that guards could grab them at a moment’s notice. “Let’s get what we need and leave.” Sol said in a hushed tone to the others, glancing over his shoulder into the darkness beyond as noises filtered through the air. With the call to arms having gone up, he doubted they had much time to dither over what to take. It was a small victory having found their target, but it would mean nothing if they were caught in the middle of a dozen tired and angry Redguards. Even less so if the blasted Dwemer got a hold of them. [hr] To say they had kicked the hornet’s nest would be an understatement; the entirety of the guards who had once been sleeping were now awake and getting their arms and some light form of protection on to address the situation, and it became something of a free for all to escape. Thanks to Meg, a number of the prisoners were let out of their cells, which while aiding in the group’s escape, likely allowed a number of horrors back into Gilane’s streets to prey upon the innocents. It was a bit too late to worry about that, however; it certainly helped conceal their identities from the authorities, save for the officer Daro’Vasora had assaulted. It would have been hard for the man to forget the female Khajiit that broke his arm and stole his newly acquired sword. While she made off with the guard patrol list, it was likely that it would be changed around in light of the attack, but it did at least provide a list of names. It wasn’t a grand victory. Solandil, Alim, and Anifaire managed to bundle together four complete sets of armour thanks to the feather spell Anifaire had cast on the bulkiest of the items and Solandil’s formidable stature to do much of the heavy lifting; Alim had also managed to buy some time by blocking the barracks door with a desk. Nobody managed to find a prisoner transport manifest, but considering they managed to get back to the safehouse and off of the streets without anyone being seriously hurt or caught, it was arguably a success of sorts. Although blood was spilled by Durantel, he and Rhona helped clear a way for a clean escape for not only the group, but the prisoners, and Meg saw to the lookout not being able to say where the people of interest fled to thanks to her archery. The Poncy Man did say that the most important thing was that nobody got detailed or killed, right?