Sometimes, the best action is no action.
With this thought in mind, Sphinx maintains his silence, still holding the Mindlink with the priestess:
[Spoiler for Zimrazim]
Josidiah is surprised by the sudden entrance of Grisev and his men and a small flame of hope lighted in the noble's mind but quickly guttered out after hearing Grisev's speech. Quickly realizing that there was really little other choice but to agree to Grisev's kind offer.
To his strange Gith cellmate he mostly ignores his comments until the mention of the thinblade which only seems to draw a tightening of his face for a second.
To Grisev he says "Well it seems you offer us "freedom" for another form of bondage still with a chance of payback to these amadas I am game. I only require my blade Twilight and I am yours. The word of a Nullareth is his bond."
Grisev hands a key ring to a large, armored half-orc. "Release him first," he nods toward the nondescript man, "then those two."
The half-orc unlocks the fifth cell, then unlocks the nondescript man's manacles. Someone in the crowd of Grisev's associates hands the brown-haired man a pair of sheathed daggers. The nondescript fellow grins happily.
The half-orc proceeds to unlock Virash's cell, then begins working on his bonds. Grisev continues: "The cords? There is no trick. If I slew or cursed everyone who works for me, I would run out of decent help in a very short time. Besides," the thin smile returns, "if you knew me, you would know that if I were determined to bring you either death or harm, I would much prefer to do it where I could hear you scream."
"You're a perceptive one. As for your question, only if you think highly of Curst's guardsmen. I don't, after that last batch." Grisev's tone is dismissive.
"There is the detail that a large contingent of Demogorgon's army is encamped outside the city gates." The man's smile widens. "The Blood War has spilled over. Curst has always been vulnerable to blockade or siege. Many more portals lead into the city than out of it, so it isn't easy to escape. Many of the locals are afraid to leave, for they have powerful foes elsewhere. Almost no one really wants to take the portal to Carceri, and an entire town full of stag-turners won't be quick to unify against an outside force."
"Sodding Demogorgon!" Virash's cellmate is obviously shocked at the news. "Tell me you aren't serious, blood."
"I'm serious. You should thank me, songbird, for they would execute you as a creature of the Dark Prince."
"I'm no such thing, and you know it." Maltheniir is clearly furious at the insinuation.
"Still, they would make that assumption."
The branded tiefling speaks: "If what you say is true, then the coming of Demogorgon's army precedes word of its coming. Many mages are paid well simply to keep track of military movements. I am impressed."
It occurs to Josidiah that the branded tiefling's manner of speech and demeanor remind him very much of the nobility (though that is odd, in a tiefling). Icanthas is somewhat reminded of the Zannifers back home, in Void's Edge, though this one seems far too human-looking to be a member of that family.
Once Virash's manacles are removed, Grisev personally begins to wind one of the black cords around the ranger's wrist, knotting it several times. It is tied tightly, but not so tightly as to threaten circulation. As he does so, he speaks: "You will do everything in your power to free all of the prisoners that you can find in the third ring of Curst." He provides directions to several buildings in the area where prisoners are being held. "Should you find any prisoners anywhere else in Curst that you believe are intended to be handed over to Demogorgon's army, you will free them also. Tell each prisoner that you free that Torvus Giljaf has betrayed them, and that Giljaf fully intends to give them to Demogorgon's army as slaves. Tell the freed prisoners to arm themselves. You will complete these tasks not later than the third hour before peak today, or you will be cursed."
Grisev addresses Lyei in Draconic:
[Spoiler for speakers of Draconic]
After the half-orc opens Lyei's cell and undoes the githyanki's manacles, Grisev begins to tie the second black cord around Lyei's wrist. "You will travel to the fourth and fifth rings of the city, the places where the working men and the poorest dwell. You will travel through the entire fourth ring and the entire fifth ring, and as you do so you will proclaim many times in a loud voice that the army of Demogorgon has come, and that it awaits just outside the city. Tell those you find in the fourth and fifth rings that Torvus Giljaf has betrayed them all to a terrible fate. That either they themselves, their sons, or their daughters may be taken as slaves for the Blood War. That many have already been abducted under cover of night and many more shall be, if Giljaf's evil is not stopped. Tell those of the fourth and fifth circles to arm themselves quickly. You will complete these tasks not later than the third hour before peak today, or you will be cursed."
Grisev contemplates for a few moments. To Lyei: "You can find stables nearby." He gives directions. "Steal as many horses as you need; it'll get your task done faster." The man also gives directions to the place where the supply shipment is being held. "I've seen at least a few mortal agents of Demogorgon inside the city. Questioning a few wouldn't hurt, and slaying them would be even better."
Grisev speaks to the half-orc: "Release the others." He provides directions to where prisoner gear is being held. "I can't guarantee what you will or won't find there. We released one group of prisoners before this one, and I would be very surprised if none of Curst's guards took anything for themselves. Some equipment may have ended up in the supply shipment, as well. Start by looting the guards outside, they have no further need for their gear."
While Nim stands back and waits politely for the cell door to be unlocked, she watches Grisev tie the cords around the wrists of Virash and Lyei.
"Interesting cords there cutter. Would it be too forward of me to ask who gave them to you? I'd be curious to know, as I could think of a person or two I'd like to use such magic on." She smiles pleasantly at Grisev.
Sphinx remains sitting near the corner of his cell, making no move towards the entrance as it is opened by the half orc to free the nondescript. His body language conveys resignation and despondency. Sighing softly, he unleashes a pair of invisible, taloned hands from his mind's eye. Jutting out, they reach for the Nondescript as well as the Half-orc who opened the cell door, attempting to grasp the targets' heads viciously.
The nondescript man appears to be somewhat lacking in the self-control department to begin with. While the half-orc's brain appears to be a bit harder to manipulate, Sphinx expends a significant portion of his mental strength, and he is able to bend both of them to his will.
With the groundwork set, it was time to spin a web of intrigue. It was time to bend the facts and fabricate reality to his will.
Rising softly to his feet, the human walks over to regard Grisev more closely from behind the prison, gently clutching the bars with his slender, wiry hands. The voice that emerges this time retains the inflection of Sigilian 'cant, but it no longer is in the same submissive, timid tone that was first used to address the Nondescript.
"Oi, 'd like tae bust outta 'ere tae ... an' I'm willin' tae earn me freedom." He pauses momentarily, as if thinking - "I"ll start by provin' me loyalty an' informin' ye tha' this berk ovah 'ere'll scribe ye if he get th' chance," turning to coldly regard the Nondescript, he continues: "'e done told me tha' 'imself an' anotha one yer crew done been bought out tae turn stag on ye--" turning his attention back to Grisev "--- I reckon ye feed 'im tae th' crows 'afore 'e try anyfin, savvy?" Even as he finishes the sentence, the telepathic command is sent to the Nondescript to scream and lunge towards Grisev with the newly acquired knives and attempt an assassination.
Sphinx was highly calculating, as well as highly insecure - especially when it came to matters of knowledge. He held firm to the belief that knowledge was power. He knew that the Nondescript would likely die trying in this attempt. He knew that Grisev had knowledge that he didn't. It was time to even the playing field. Sphinx figured that he'd try and gain Grisev's trust, or at the very least plant seeds of doubt and paranoia in his mind. Indeed, at least of one Grisev's escort that arrived with him could be a threat. All this came with the potential added bonus of watching the Nondescript get booked.
Indeed, Sphinx knew things that the others did not.
Since it appeared nobody would do her any harm if she ventured within their reach --either for the tone she'd used with Grisev or merely out of a natural inclination to do so-- Icanthas assumed a relaxed posture, leaning with her elbows and forearms against the bars of her cell. He had missed the matter that concerned her, but she would wait until after the cords had been distributed to give voice to it. No sense giving the volunteers any reason to back out of their offer; there didn't seem to be many more prisoners, and she wasn't keen on the idea of being stuck with one. She pressed her lips tightly together, suppressing a grin as she imagined how the pair might react to her misgivings.
EDIT:
Her thinly-veiled expression of amusement falls away when Nondescript-man draws his blades and lunges at his employer. She pushes herself back from the bars and ensures that she is out of easy reach, before settling back to watch the scene unfold.
[DC 15 Sense Motive to be able to tell that Nondescript Man is being influenced, for anyone who'd like to make the check. Luckily, Grisev rolled horribly on his check.]
The nondescript man is clearly the speedier of the two men, lunging toward Grisev's open visor, aiming perhaps for the armored man's eyes, or his brain. Before the big man can even react, though, something unexpected happens...
The distinct twang of a bowstring emanates from the shadowed area outside the cell block door. An instant later, a black-fletched arrow protrudes from the nondescript man's chest, and blood starts to flow. The shot misses the man's heart, however, and the nondescript fellow doggedly attacks, managing to land a cut on Grisev's face. The armored man's swing is devastating, however, when the greatsword lands: blood fountains from a deep diagonal slash across the man's chest and abdomen. The nondescript man falls, perhaps greatly to Sphinx's satisfaction.
Anyone looking toward the shadowed area catches a brief glimpse of a slender, leather-clad figure, before it moves to one side, outside the range of vision of those inside.
Grisev regards the fallen man, raising his blade again as if to behead him, then stops himself. The nondescript fellow is still breathing, though raggedly. He probably won't last long, unless someone can be bothered to bind his wounds. "Rogald, you're a good slayer... but you always did think small."
The large, armored man looks to Sphinx. "Name the other. And give me the name of the one who paid them."
Lyei:
Being to emerged in his conversation, he totally misses the machinations of the effects that the psion made, and thus cannot see the affected puppets details of domination.. not until its to late, 2hander slicing through him...
He steps back once as the arrow is fired from the shadows but isn't overly surprised by the presence of a hidden one amongst Grisev's ranks. As the Nondescript lies bleeding, twinges of macabre pleasure course through Sphinx's mind, the feeling akin to that of expert hands massaging the top of his skull.
I done told ye eza'ly wha 'e told me - Nae tags was mentioned, jest tha' 'imself an' anotha o' yer crew'll be plannin tae give ye th' laugh a' th' righ' oppohtunity. Dinnae say who done hired them out neitha.
He cants his head towards the bleeding man on the floor: ..though I reckon 'e migh' be willin tae sing some more now tha' 'e done been scragged.
He cants his head towards the bleeding man on the floor: ..though I reckon 'e migh' be willin tae sing some more now tha' 'e done been scragged.
Grisev's mailed hands flex over the hilt of the greatsword as he eyes the fallen man. For a long moment, it seems almost as if two sides of the man are battling for domination -- until one emerges victorious. "Bind the fool and bring him with us -- alive." There is a ripple of surprise and even disappointment among Grisev's retinue, which he is quick to silence with a curt gesture and a glare that promises violence. Grisev wipes the blade clean on Rogald's clothing, but does not yet sheathe it.
The armored man eyes his white-clad companions. "I would be disappointed if not even one of you coveted my position. Still, both your timing and your methods leave much to be desired." Grisev's gaze now sweeps over not only his own compatriots, but also each of the prisoners. "As always, it is my pleasure to meet any and all challenges. I did have other plans, but if anyone else is eager to die at my hands, I will grant you your wish."
Lyei moves from where he stood when receiving the leather geas-band, to the door which was gestured at, for us to loot the guards equipment in order for us to handle ourselves...then looks if he sees anything nice he should take first...
[ooc: would a take 20= 24 on search suffice to get a list of what is available for looting, so we can divide it amongst the party as we deem best?]
[No one is likely to get out of the room until the current situation is resolved. There are plenty of guys with white garments blocking the way.]
Lyei seems annoyed by the lack of progress and the hampering of his movement..
In Draconic to Grisev:
ooc: sigh.
Presumably before all that goes on, Virash nods. I accept..
Then, everything goes barmy.
The ranger stays where he is, deciding that there is no way he could do any good at this moment. Ah, well, that arrow explains the rustle of leather from earlier. Let things settle down after a minute or two, then get on with the job, seems to be the best plan. He meets Grisev's gaze when it passes over him, but says nothing.
And, having figured out THAT little piece of information, Virash chooses to keep it to himself. Impossible to know the source anyway... could be another prisoner, could be one of Grisev's other men, could be Grisev himself staging something, or a longer term effect from days ago. Something to keep in mind, certainly.
Grisev eyes the githyanki. The big human's attention has clearly been wrenched away from the earlier conversation, and his mood is definitely worsened. He answers Lyei in Common, however. "Very well." Grisev gestures to the others to allow Lyei to pass. "Demogorgon's creatures are often deformed in some way. Some bear a visible tanar'ric mark or brand, and most are insane. Despite that, some of them can blend in surprisingly well. You may not always recognize one at first."
Lyei replies in draconic:
Nods his head to Grisev, and proceeds to move to the next room/ door..to see what can be used.. black jacket and robes flowing through the throng of white clad men of Grisev's.
Nim visibly tenses up as she watches the scene play out before her, but quickly relaxes once the nondescript man is lying on the floor. She turns and addresses Grisev.
"Amazing! Instead of killing the man who turns stag against you, you give him mercy instead. Or at least a temporary reprieve. I'm glad to know that we're still in the Outlands."
Nim gestures towards the exit.
"So...um...I'll be going about that business you wanted us to perform. I'd hate to put my corded companions at any more risk than necessary"
She starts walking towards the door.
"Amazing! Instead of killing the man who turns stag against you, you give him mercy instead. Or at least a temporary reprieve. I'm glad to know that we're still in the Outlands."
Whether or not Nim had actually intended to needle the man with that remark, Grisev reacts to it. Perhaps much more strongly than she had anticipated. Swearing furiously (in Abyssal, perhaps to Icanthas' surprise), the man turns, as quickly as all that armor allows, and makes what must be a ritual maledictory gesture with one hand, shouting something in the foul language of the tanar'ri.
[Wicke, I need a Fortitude save, please. Since Grisev has reason to believe he might be in a threatened square, he's casting defensively.]
(OOC: Oopsie! ^_^ )
[LOL. On a natural saving throw of 20, Nim automatically saves against the spell. However, the Spellcraft roll is too low for her to identify which spell was cast. That is a very good Bluff roll, though...]
[EvilDM says: "Oooh, this'll be fun!"]
Lyei looks around at Grisev's casting-outburst from the door opening he is just about to step through..
[ooc: Taking a shot in the dark here]
Nim screams, clutches her sides, drops into a curl and starts sobbing.
In a barely audible voice she starts repeating: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Grisev glares murderously at 'Tikal' for several seconds, before slowly lowering his hand. "All challenges, as I said." His gaze moves over the mix of prisoners and his own men once again. "Now, if there are no more interruptions... get to your tasks."
Watching from near the doorway, Lyei feels certain that that was not a normal result for the spell that the armored human had cast. Grisev is either buying it, or... he's pretending to buy it. Very convincingly, too.
ooc: O what the heck, I'll use this post for a roll then..
Unsure about the proceedings, Lyei makes a mental reminder about the spell, and looks at Grisev with a bit more enthusiasm..
ooc: Bloody typical 
Lyei notes mentally that the spell and its effects aren't quite the same, but regardless notes it as one of Grishev's tricks, for future reference.. then turns his head, and makes his way through the door to inspect the next room.
(which he probably remembers going through, layout wise)
He takes his time but inwardly is frantically trying to speed things up, seeing what equipment the dead-bookers have..
Nim will continue to clutch her sides in "pain" until the cleric decides to leave the cell. Nim will ask her for a hand up and will use her for support as she shuffles out of the cell.
[Will now switch my tense to past, because it reads better that way.. to me at least :P]
The way Sphinx saw it - if he wished to live, the nondescript had to die. Once out of his dominion, there would be no telling what the injured human would reveal to Grisev. From afar, he sent a telepathic command so forceful and so innate to the Nondescript, that little doubt was held about its efficacy. Perhaps this arrogant thought process was merely a veil of denial. After all, Sphinx knew of, but did not wish to contemplate the consequences following discovery. His puppet had to rise again and attempt another strike such that Grisev or perhaps the sniper would administer the final blow. Fresh blood had to stain the pages of the Dead Book.
The single, simple command given to the supine Nondescript:
[Spoiler for Zimrazim]
~Kill!~
[Rogald won't be able to fulfill that command right now, since he's at death's door at the moment. However, he would be able to (try to) the moment he 'wakes up,' which should happen fairly soon. Grisev has a few pertinent questions to ask the berk, but he wants to ask those questions somewhere else.]
After being frustrated with Rogald's non responsiveness, Sphinx decides to continue his conversation with the Priestess.
[Spoiler for Zimrazim]
~ I pray he rises soon before my hold on his mind slips away. Is your poor cellmate alright? Were you able to recognize what Grisev cast or perhaps threw towards her? If he continues with this belligerince, I can get the three of us away - but my mastry of time and space allows me to only escort a total of three (myself included) past solid objects. ~
Once the half-orc had Icanthas' door opened, she wasted no time in shoving past him(/her?), giving a curt "Thank'ye" as she passed, and hurrying after the githyanki. The clanking of armor and Grisev's shout --in Abyssal, of all languages-- at her back gave her pause, and she half-turned to observe the scene. A basher and spellslinger then. And quicker to turn stag than even she'd expected. She wasn't sure yet whether dealing with the man would prove interesting or tedious, but things appeared to be starting off closer to the former.
"Not a soldier-boy then..." she remarked, half to herself, as she turned back toward the slain guards. A servant of some other Abyssal Lord, she assumed. Not that it mattered to her. She turned her attention to the bodies of the fallen, and their equipment.
[Two PCs waiting on an equipment list now.]
"I agree."
It's not long before everything goes barmy AGAIN. "Sodding hells... It's going to be an interesting day." Rubbing his wrists to get the circulation moving again, Virash stands and shakes himself out, just enjoying the freedom to move again.
Once he can feel his body again, the ranger walks over to "Tikal" and kneels, though not before glancing at Grisev for a moment. "Need a hand up? I have a hunch you could be useful getting the rest of these berks out, if you have a mind to help."
((EDIT: Although I can see why a Sense Motive may not be allowed without the Spellcraft check, in which case, nix that.))
Still in a near whisper: "Thank you.
Nim winces as she climbs to her feet and leans heavily on Virash for support as the two of them head towards the door.
[ooc: Nim isn't worried about whether Grisev saw through her ruse, so not going to bother with the Sense Motive on him]
[A good attempt, but Virash didn't roll high enough.]
[Grisev's name didn't actually come up during the conversation, but I'm thinking Sphinx was able to figure out who this guy was from clues in Rogald's mind.]
[spoiler for Sphinx only]
~...WAIT, did you say Grisev? The one who ought to be in the Mazes?!
Grisev appears uninterested in tormenting 'Tikal' further, at least for the moment.
One of his men, a large, remarkably mean-looking tiefling with a morningstar at his belt, proceeds to bind Rogald's injuries, but wisely refrains from attempting to remove the arrow from his chest just yet. Something about the tiefer's manner suggests that a kindly concern for the berk's health is not really present in this case. He picks up Rogald's recently-used daggers (wiping one off on the nondescript man's clothing). The tiefling also picks up a set of manacles, so recently 'liberated' from the prisoners, and uses them to bind Rogald's hands behind his back once more. As he does so he says something to the black-armored human in Abyssal; Grisev replies in the same language.
[spoiler for speakers of Abyssal]
Seeming to remember something, Grisev addresses the deformed man. "Go, join either the human or the githyanki in their tasks. Do well, and we might speak again." Turning to the others, he raises a mailed hand.
"Go forth, and destroy. Bring utter destruction to our mutual enemies." With that, the man turns away, with a perhaps unintentional flourish of his bloodstained surcoat, and begins to stride (and clank) out of the chamber. His men turn to follow, taking Rogald along with them, with somewhat less than solicitous care for the nondescript man's comfort.
'Tikal' is in the somewhat unusual situation of being helped up by a Defier on one side and a priestess on the other. Between the two of them, they are able to 'help' the sorceress out of the cell block.
[I'll need to know if the half-orc does anything unusual.]
Outside the cell block:
The corridor that Lyei enters is quite shadowy. Torch sconces are set at regular intervals, but not all of the torches are currently lit. Miserliness on Torvus Giljaf's part, perhaps? Or did someone put out some of them?
According to Grisev's directions, the group is on the second floor of a two-story building. The first floor had contained the first group of prisoners that Grisev's... merry men... had liberated. The basement holds the gear (or perhaps, what's left of it) that had originally belonged to the prisoners, as well as some accomodations for the guards.
In the wavering torchlight, Lyei, as well as any others who enter the corridor, can make out the corpses of two guards. One was one of the pair of guards who had guarded their cell block. The other must be the one that had come into the cell block to warn the other guards. Both appear to have been slain in an extremely over-the-top manner. One has been beheaded, his head landing quite some distance away. The other could have been slain either by the weapon (probably a morningstar) with which he had been savagely beaten, or by the black-fletched arrow through his chest.
Of course, Icanthas has seen the incredible gore and violence of the Blood War, and Lyei is a githyanki: neither is too likely to be very shocked by such butchery.
[Heal check to notice something.]
[Assuming you take 20 on a Search check, as suggested earlier.]
The weapons and armor of these guards are still in fairly good shape, if bloody. Anyone searching can find a pair of mail shirts, as well as two shields (the latter bearing the heraldry of Curst). Each had wielded a longsword; one appears to be of unusually high quality. Each guard also had a dagger. Searching their belt pouches brings a total of forty-seven silver pieces and ten copper pieces. Either working as a guard for Torvus Giljaf doesn't pay well, the guards waste their jink on bub and other vices, or both.
The black-haired, branded tiefling is quick to follow Icanthas out of the cell. In fact, she notices that the other tiefer seems almost at pains to keep Icanthas interposed between herself and Grisev at all times. Maltheniir joins them after a while, and the others notice that he is carrying a set of manacles, perhaps the same ones he had been bound with, with him. Rivullira and Virash come bringing 'Tikal' between them.
The black-haired tiefling looks around, then speaks to the group of those outside the cell block. "As you have likely guessed, I am a mage of some skill. I have knowledge of certain spells that might make you more effective in a fight, but in order to use them in the best manner, it would help me to know something of your own capabilities."
[ooc: Can I get a check of who all is in the corridor?]
Still wincing in pain, Nim watches as Grisev and his men leave. Once he's out of sight, she stands up straight, without any apparent pain, and glances between Rivullira and Virash.
"I appreciate the help. Glad to know that mere compassion can bring people together in this cursed city!"
She raises her eyebrows and grins at the word play, then glances back down the hallway and narrows her eyes.
"I don't think he bought it. No matter, the show was for his men, not him. Wish I knew what that spell he cast was though. Stupid, Nim! Stupid! Knew I should've paid more attention to Hralth's lessons!"
Nim pauses and seems to remember herself and where she is. She glances down at Virash's wrist.
"Let's see what's up with that cord of yours!
Without asking, she goes to grab Virash's arm.
[Heh heh, let me know what she wants to do with the cord.]
[I think everyone but Josidiah and Sphinx is in the corridor at this point; I'll need to see posts from Cadence/Bladedancer before I know for sure where they are.]
Upon entering the corridor, Icanthas paused only long enough to glance quickly about, ensuring there were no threats within, before moving to the pile of gear the githyanki set aside and crouching down to rifle through it. She'd noted, along the way, how her cellmate put some effort into keeping a body between herself and Grisev. That had her curious; was it the usual inclination of a mage to keep a warrior between herself and possible threats, or was it specifically something about that human? She'd have to ask the woman about it later, assuming they didn't part ways too soon. Priorities.
As soon as Icanthas spotted the longsword in the pile, she tucked it into her belt. The daggers and shields, she left for the others. A single blade suited her best, and she didn't care much for shields. She left the armor in place for a moment, wanting not to waste the time it would take to extricate and don it. But then the other tiefling woman spoke, and she noticed other prisoners helping along the wounded Tikal. It appeared the others wouldn't be moving along as quickly as Icanthas had hoped. She briefly considered leaving them behind, but rejected the notion. If she hadn't the need for the aid of others, she would never have fallen into this mess in the first place. And the mage had already proven herself useful; no doubt she would again.
Since it seemed she would remain here for the moment, at least, she set about yanking off the corpse's chain shirt. She could already tell it wasn't as good as her own armor, but it would come in handy until hers could be reclaimed.
"I don't think he bought it. No matter, the show was for his men, not him. Wish I knew what that spell he cast was though. Stupid, Nim! Stupid! Knew I should've paid more attention to Hralth's lessons!"
[For now, just a spellcraft check and, if it's appropriate, maybe a use of prestidigitation to probe the nature of the cord. Nim's laying down the groundwork for casting dispel magic on the cords and wants to get it right on the first try if she can]
According to Grisev's directions, the group is on the second floor of a two-story building. The first floor had contained the first group of prisoners that Grisev's... merry men... had liberated. The basement holds the gear (or perhaps, what's left of it) that had originally belonged to the prisoners, as well as some accomodations for the guards.
[Heal check to notice something.]
[Assuming you take 20 on a Search check, as suggested earlier.]
The weapons and armor of these guards are still in fairly good shape, if bloody. Anyone searching can find a pair of mail shirts, as well as two shields (the latter bearing the heraldry of Curst). Each had wielded a longsword; one appears to be of unusually high quality. Each guard also had a dagger. Searching their belt pouches brings a total of forty-seven silver pieces and ten copper pieces. Either working as a guard for Torvus Giljaf doesn't pay well, the guards waste their jink on bub and other vices, or both.
WiP
Lyei takes the masterwork? longsword, and one chain shirt, the one not pierced by arrows.. and the belt pouches to be picked through later (incl all the money)
Lyei leaves the other sword and the 2 daggers on the floor in a pile, with the shields, so the rest of the stragglers can sift through them at their leisure..
He does not bother though to take the 2nd chain shirt of off its owner, leaving that to any others to handle..
Josidiah after freed from his bonds decides to throw in his lot with the his githyanki cellmate. Upon seeing the tiefling and yanki beating him to the choice weapons and armor. With a sniff and a few choice words in elven about greedy bastards.
Josidiah whispers a quick incantation (detect magic on the equipment). He quickly picks up one of the daggers and dons a shield strapping into to his arm. Testing it's weight and balance he deems it adequate but no more. To the former prisoners in the hallway he asks "Since we are going to be fighting together we should know somewhat of each persons particular skills and talents." "I myself can fight with a blade and while mixing with a bit of magic."
Virash is startled by the mage's sudden recovery, but shakes it off. He even recovers in time to roll his eyes at her pun. "Right. Truth be told, I like your style, even if it did get you into trouble... or not, I suppose."
The ranger doesn't have time to draw his arm back, surprised as he is, though with a sigh he relaxes and lets the mage examine the cords. With any luck, she'll learn something useful for him as well. While "Tikal" is fiddling with his wrists, Virash turns to the elf. Little as he knew about the others, this one was right - knowing the capabilities of each would be important."I'm handy with axes, though I suppose a pair of swords or daggers would do in a pinch. I can find my way around most bergs, and sneak passing well."
[Grisev's name didn't actually come up during the conversation, but I'm thinking Sphinx was able to figure out who this guy was from clues in Rogald's mind.]
[spoiler for Sphinx only]
~...WAIT, did you say Grisev? The one who ought to be in the Mazes?!
[Whoops, I didn't even notice that his name hadn't come up. ;P.]
Sure thin' boss. Sphinx walks out of the cell looking visibly relieved. Stealing a glance towards Rivullira, he continues his stream of thought:
[spoiler for Zimrazim]
~ I believe he is the one named Grisev, at least that is what I gleaned from the human's mind. I am being assumptive though, and can't really be sure. You seem upset - have you some score to settle with him? What do you mean he ought to be in the Mazes?~
His thoughts were somewhat frantic, betraying Sphinx's agitation and concern with having the incapacitated human dragged away. His instructions for the half-orc were to do exactly as Grisev says, and to periodically send the Psion his thoughts....a figurative way of 'keeping an eye' on the Bad Blood and his murderous entourage.
Upon stepping outside the cell, he nodded in acknowledgement towards those closest to him - namely- Rivullira, Virash, and Tikal.
Lady's Grace cuttahs.... Th' tag be Sphinx.
His tone was serious, but friendly.
Sphinx then turned towards the branded tiefling and offered a few more words, these ones more non-chalant than the ones he used with Tikal, Virash, and Rivullira.
I taint much o' a basher, but if ye need some covah while ye be doin ye fingapaints, I gotcher back, ye know?"
The cord on Virash's wrist proves so resistant to being pulled off, tugged, or unknotted that it seems as though the item must be enchanted. Despite that, when Josidiah casts his spell, neither cord actually displays a magical aura. Nim isn't sure what other magical effects may be present on the cords, but she has heard of a simple spell that can conceal or alter the apparent aura of an enchanted item.
Both Virash and Lyei feel a certain strange twinge inside their minds. While that twinge is not strong at this point... and there is still time to do other things... it is just enough to make both of them increasingly certain that the enchantment on the cords is indeed genuine.
No magical aura is present on any of the guards' equipment.
The black-haired tiefling smiles, seeming unsurprised by Icanthas' mention of the Infernal Front. "I am called Alastryn." The spellslinger doesn't mention her own allegiances, though.
Lyei was already donning and finishing getting dressed in the other chain shirt when the rest entered the corridor... seeing Icanthas enter after him, he points out the notables his pilfering uncovered.. but has already taken the better of the two longswords for himself.
Noting the entrance of the rest, and specifically 'Sphinx', he does not mind being ignored by the graith, as he doesn't trust him as far as he could be thrown anyway..
To no one in particular he states in common; "I think we should keep the money for bribes and the buying of resources, just in case it is needed, it isn't much though, a mere nearly five gold is the bounty.. which buys us some food I guess as a first priority, and on to what I can, magic and a bit of swordplay, as everybody seems to be able..I also think we should move as fast as we can now, we need to retrieve our belongings.." and with that he starts to move to the staircase..to move downwards..
Apparently satisfied with what she sees, Nim steps back and starts casting something at the cord around Virash's wrist.
[ooc: apologies in advance if there's a contingency worked into the cord that causes it to backfire or go off if any dispels are tried]
Fortunately, the cord does not explode, nor does anything else drastically unpleasant happen when the changeling attempts to dispel its magic. Unfortunately, the spell doesn't appear to hinder or affect the item in any way, either.
[Spot check. 
]
[Actually, I'd like a Spot check from Lyei as well.]
Nim seems on the verge of volunteering herself, but stops herself when her fellow prisoners start offering up their wrists.
"Since my friends in the other cells have already agreed to accept pretties from you fine folks, I don't suppose there's anything left for me now. Pity that. I'm still more than happy to throw in my services with you folks though. There's strength in numbers."