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[PF] Way of the Wicked - Golarian
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<blockquote data-quote="ahayford" data-source="post: 5877465" data-attributes="member: 6680745"><p>Sergeant Blackerly wipes the spittle from his cheek, flicking it on the cold stone floor in one swift motion. His hand goes to the leather blackjack at his side.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: lightblue"> Hold ‘im down boys. This scum is a defiant one eh. </span></p><p></p><p>Two of the remaining guards hold Rath tightly on either side while Blackerly winds up a full swing. The club strikes the half-orc across the ribs, knocking the wind out of his lungs and sends him gasping for air. Its followed with a second and third strike, each one punctuated with the meaty thwack of club on flesh.</p><p></p><p>After the third strike, Blackerly leans down right in Rath’s face.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: lightblue">Are you gonna spit in the face of the headsman as he lowers the axe too? You know if they use a dull blade it can take multiple swings. Downright horrible it is....lots of blood and screaming. Makes for a good show though. </span></p><p></p><p>Blackerly backs away and addresses the group.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: lightblue">The only mercy the lot of you can expect now is a quick trip to the afterlife. You best respect those that can give it to ya. </span></p><p><span style="color: lightblue"></span></p><p><span style="color: lightblue">Lets go. We’ve kept the lady waiting long enough.</span></p><p></p><p>Herik is roughly escorted out of the cellblock and into the adjacent guard room. Herik quickly takes note of his surroundings. The guard post is sparsely appointed, the most notable feature being a large, unlit fireplace. The delicious smell of roast meat wafts from what is likely a kitchen below. After shutting and locking the cell block door, Blackerly hangs a large iron key ring on a peg by door. The two on duty guards sit at the only table, playing some kind of game involving bone dice. </p><p></p><p>Blackerly lumbers across the guard room and opens a small side door into an equally sparsely appointed interrogation chamber. </p><p></p><p><span style="color: lightblue">Your lady awaits.</span></p><p></p><p>The guardsmen drag Herik into the plainly appointed room and forcibly place him into a chair. The guards connect a short length of chain from Herik’s foot manacle to an iron ring in the floor, repeating the process for his wrists. The only furniture are a table and chairs in the center of the room. The woman seated across from Herik, is anything but plain.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center"><img src="http://i1220.photobucket.com/albums/dd444/hayforda/tiadora.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /></p><p></p><p>A hauntingly beautiful woman in an elegant black dress and soft silken veil sits sobbing quietly. Her long platinum hair falls loosely about her shoulders. Her vibrant, unearthly green eyes are red and puffy, the signs of weeping clear on her face.</p><p><span style="color: purple">Oh dearest, </span> proclaims the unfamiliar woman. <span style="color: purple">I’m so relieved you’re alive!</span> She turns to Blackerly. <span style="color: purple">Could we please have a moment alone good sir? For pity’s sake?</span></p><p></p><p>Blackerly goes blank for a moment, then quickly agree. <span style="color: lightblue"> O’ course, m’lady. For you its no trouble</span></p><p></p><p>There is something about the look in the woman’s eye and strange behavior of the Sergeant. You are confident that she has some kind of power over him, influencing his behavior. As soon as Blackerly closes the door behind him, the woman’s demeanor changes.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: purple">Ooh....Have you forgotten me, dearest?</span> the unexpected visitor says with a smirk, dropping her pretense of grief. <span style="color: purple"> You may call me Tiadora. We possess a mutual friend who would like to meet you and your fellow cell-mates. Unfortunately, our friend is unwilling to visit you in your present rather shabby lodgings. It seems then, you must escape.</span></p><p></p><p>She takes on the tone of a consoling mother.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: purple"> Ooh...now now, don’t be so dour. Just because it’s never been done is no reason you can’t be the first. </span></p><p><span style="color: purple"></span></p><p><span style="color: purple">If you manager to escape, cross the moors on the outskirts of town. On the old Moor Road you’ll see a manor house with a single lantern burning in a second story window. There our mutual friend awaits. That is all I know. He did want me to give you this.</span></p><p></p><p>She takes off her silken veil and makes a show of wiping away a few fake tears.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: purple"> *sniff* Something to remember me by dearest </span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ahayford, post: 5877465, member: 6680745"] Sergeant Blackerly wipes the spittle from his cheek, flicking it on the cold stone floor in one swift motion. His hand goes to the leather blackjack at his side. [color=lightblue] Hold ‘im down boys. This scum is a defiant one eh. [/color] Two of the remaining guards hold Rath tightly on either side while Blackerly winds up a full swing. The club strikes the half-orc across the ribs, knocking the wind out of his lungs and sends him gasping for air. Its followed with a second and third strike, each one punctuated with the meaty thwack of club on flesh. After the third strike, Blackerly leans down right in Rath’s face. [color=lightblue]Are you gonna spit in the face of the headsman as he lowers the axe too? You know if they use a dull blade it can take multiple swings. Downright horrible it is....lots of blood and screaming. Makes for a good show though. [/color] Blackerly backs away and addresses the group. [color=lightblue]The only mercy the lot of you can expect now is a quick trip to the afterlife. You best respect those that can give it to ya. Lets go. We’ve kept the lady waiting long enough.[/color] Herik is roughly escorted out of the cellblock and into the adjacent guard room. Herik quickly takes note of his surroundings. The guard post is sparsely appointed, the most notable feature being a large, unlit fireplace. The delicious smell of roast meat wafts from what is likely a kitchen below. After shutting and locking the cell block door, Blackerly hangs a large iron key ring on a peg by door. The two on duty guards sit at the only table, playing some kind of game involving bone dice. Blackerly lumbers across the guard room and opens a small side door into an equally sparsely appointed interrogation chamber. [color=lightblue]Your lady awaits.[/color] The guardsmen drag Herik into the plainly appointed room and forcibly place him into a chair. The guards connect a short length of chain from Herik’s foot manacle to an iron ring in the floor, repeating the process for his wrists. The only furniture are a table and chairs in the center of the room. The woman seated across from Herik, is anything but plain. [CENTER][IMG]http://i1220.photobucket.com/albums/dd444/hayforda/tiadora.jpg[/IMG][/CENTER] A hauntingly beautiful woman in an elegant black dress and soft silken veil sits sobbing quietly. Her long platinum hair falls loosely about her shoulders. Her vibrant, unearthly green eyes are red and puffy, the signs of weeping clear on her face. [color=purple]Oh dearest, [/color] proclaims the unfamiliar woman. [color=purple]I’m so relieved you’re alive![/color] She turns to Blackerly. [color=purple]Could we please have a moment alone good sir? For pity’s sake?[/color] Blackerly goes blank for a moment, then quickly agree. [color=lightblue] O’ course, m’lady. For you its no trouble[/color] There is something about the look in the woman’s eye and strange behavior of the Sergeant. You are confident that she has some kind of power over him, influencing his behavior. As soon as Blackerly closes the door behind him, the woman’s demeanor changes. [color=purple]Ooh....Have you forgotten me, dearest?[/color] the unexpected visitor says with a smirk, dropping her pretense of grief. [color=purple] You may call me Tiadora. We possess a mutual friend who would like to meet you and your fellow cell-mates. Unfortunately, our friend is unwilling to visit you in your present rather shabby lodgings. It seems then, you must escape.[/color] She takes on the tone of a consoling mother. [color=purple] Ooh...now now, don’t be so dour. Just because it’s never been done is no reason you can’t be the first. If you manager to escape, cross the moors on the outskirts of town. On the old Moor Road you’ll see a manor house with a single lantern burning in a second story window. There our mutual friend awaits. That is all I know. He did want me to give you this.[/color] She takes off her silken veil and makes a show of wiping away a few fake tears. [color=purple] *sniff* Something to remember me by dearest [/color] [/QUOTE]
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