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The attack was, moderately successful but Pox's attack was useless against these shades, though it was enough.  He became flanked at both sides by warriors whose weapons were more powerful than his little shank of ceramic.  Behind him, all the prisoners broke free of their bindings and were joining the fight.  It was inspiring.  For a moment it felt like freedom was in their grasp.

And then, reinforcements, their captain showed up and the room became flooded with more guards.  One was overwhelmed, and they lost ground in an instant.  Pox had to back up, he was not a warrior, he knew his capabilities and he could only set up a screen of billous smoke to keep their vision obscured.  It only bought them a few seconds before they would just come through.  

They needed another idea, and they needed it quick.  Someone was making a plan.  He needed to give them time.  He went to the table and he lifted it over, the bowls of gruel skidding across the floor on one side.  It was a big heavy thick piece of wood, longer than he could grasp.  He then shouted.  [color=lightgreen]"We need to stop their charge!  We need a shield! HELP ME!"[/color]  It would take a few to lift the table, and then direct them into the oncoming horde of guards.  He they could hold it, their swords and shields would be useless for as long as the defenders strength could hold out.

He could only hope it was enough time they could buy.