Aftermath

[GM Craig]

Darkness, interspersed by painful light and pain. In many ways the darkness is a relief.

Slowly you become away of a stone cell. Manacles on your wrists. The stench of mildew and rotten straw.

In the dim light through the tiny window in the door, you make out others in the room. Three of you are here - Sir Rodric, Sir Cedwyn and Sir Gwyn.

It takes some time to sink in, but you come to realize you are prisoners. And not ones held for ransom - the barbaric Saxons are treating you like commoners! Any civilized enemy would treat you as a guest, confident of a ransom to come.

Then you become away of a fourth individual in your cell. Old and weak, with a rattling cough, the old man in rags looks to have been here a long time.

"Good, sir knights. You are awake. I had hoped you would recover soon."

[PM's sent]

[Cedwyn]

"God's grace on you. But perhaps you can tell us where we are..."

Cedwyn said, checking himself. The wounds he sustained were severe. He should not be standing right now...not at all.

[Geoffrey]

"God's grace?" Rodric mumbled, his chest ached as if he'd been struck full on from a boulder thrown from a catapult.

"At least in the darkness there was no pain..." he took a shallow, difficult breath.

"What happened?"

[GM Craig]

The old man, also in shackles, shrugs. "I do not know precisely where we are - some castle occupied by the Saxons. I arrived much as you did, some time ago. In my time here, I have seen a dozen nights come through that door. They stay for a time, then are dragged out. I do not know their fate, but I am certain it is unpleasant. I have heard the guards speak of a witch who rules this castle. I fear she has something to do with their fate."

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn growled, "A witch, eh? So who are you and how long have we been here?"

[GM Craig]

He shrugs again. "Me? I am no one of consequence, my lord. Just an old peasant in the wrong place. I do not know how long I have been here, but it has been many months. Perhaps years."

He pauses, and you see something of a glint in his eye. "But I do happen to have a key for your shackles. I can give it to you, and you can unlock each other's chains. I also know the way to freedom - I was in possession of my senses when they brought me here. I can find my way back to the outside. But I am no warrior. I will need the help of courageous knights like you to get free. What say you, will you help me?"

[Cedwyn]

[Intrigue: Skill=5. Roll=1. Success!]

[Geoffrey]

Then what are we waiting for, Rodric wondered.  The knight struggled to move as the thoughts of escape ran through his head.  They'd need weapons, eventually they'd run into guards.  Would there be an armory on the way?  And where was their gear?

"Then unlock us." Rodric said, his voice hoarse and raspy.

[GM Craig]

The old seems pretty cagey. Cedwyn can't see anything glaring, so he questions him to look for holes.

Cewyn holds up his hand to forestall Rodric's command. To the old man he says, "How came you by this key?"

The man nods, apparently impressed. "The last knight they drug out of there struggled. One of the guards had their head dashed against the wall and fell senseless to the ground. When they dragged him out of here, I noticed a key had fallen from him, so I hid it in the filth." He shakes his hands indicating his short shackles. "I cannot use it, but I can toss it to you."

To Rodric he says, "I am an old man, and no warrior. I would never make it out on my own. With your help, I stand a chance. I will give you the key, if you swear to help me. I know Cymric knights are men of their word. Will you give me your oaths?"

[Cedwyn]

[Are his shackles shorter than ours?]

[GM Craig]

[Yes. His hands can't go below the top of his head.]

[Cedwyn]

"I should think I'd like to know why you have short shackles, friend," Cedwyn inquired.

[GM Craig]

He shrugs. "Who can say? Look about you, my lords. Some are longer and some are shorter. Luck of the draw, I suppose. Though it served me well - had I been able to unlock my chains, I might have been tempted to try and flee on my own, which could only have ended in death."

Glancing about the room, the shackle length does seem to be random.

[Cedwyn]

Cedwyn considered this a moment, placing himself in the position of the guards. With many options, the guards would choose the one most likely to keep a prisoner secure.

"As you please," he said after a moment, clearly the man had some sort of skill with his hands they wished to prevent, "I agree to the bargain provided you do not betray us to the witch or her allies. Nor shall we betray you in the same manner."

[ooc: do I recognize any accent on him? Or clothing style?]

[GM Craig]

He seems a peasant, but speaks with an eloquence not typical of the peasantry. He seems Cymric through and through though.