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<blockquote data-quote="OneWingAngel88" data-source="post: 5630640" data-attributes="member: 6678634"><p>Noa felt a rage rising inside of himself as the knights of The Order began banging on the door. THIS was how it was going to end for him? Caged like a rat?</p><p>Perhaps this had all been a setup to dispose of him after he had survived the night before. Glancing with growing anger toward Janiven and the adolescent, he felt his tensing fist slacken slightly as he came to decide that they had not brought this upon him intentionally.</p><p>Well, he thought, if I'm going to die, it might as well be fighting The Rack. With this he drew a short, wide, heavy bladed sword from the scabbard at his belt.</p><p>Just then, Janiven ran past him, leading the young lad to a trapdoor in the floor. An escape route! Perhaps he wouldn't die here after all. And so it seemed when she beckoned them all to follow.</p><p>Just then the the armored woman who has declared herself a Sister of Sarenrae ran to the window, and Noa nearly ran after her to pull her back. Fortunately, she turned quickly and headed for the exit, just as the entranceway was covered in a thick oily substance, seemingly from the young gnome as he staggered backward toward the hole in the floor.</p><p>Next he knew, the awkward man who called himself Vigil was calling to him from the exit, coaxing him to follow.</p><p><span style="color: red">"All in good time, my friend,"</span> he said as an idea crept to him. Quickly as he could, he upended the table onto its side and slid it across the floor. Swinging his blade over his head, he severed a leg from the table, then with all of his strength he pushed the table across the floor until it reached the edge of the oily liquid at which point he showed as hard as his body would allow, forcing it to the door.</p><p>Now that there was one more obstacle in the way of the encroaching soldiers, he tore a small section of his sleeve from his tunic, and tied it around the broken table leg. Withdrawing a small flint from his belt pouch and striking it against his sword, he set the cloth aflame.</p><p>Just as it seemed the door would hold against The Order no longer, he tossed the makeshift torch onto the pool and dove for the trapdoor entrance, taking one last glance as he shoved Vigil forward and closed the trapdoor behind them.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="OneWingAngel88, post: 5630640, member: 6678634"] Noa felt a rage rising inside of himself as the knights of The Order began banging on the door. THIS was how it was going to end for him? Caged like a rat? Perhaps this had all been a setup to dispose of him after he had survived the night before. Glancing with growing anger toward Janiven and the adolescent, he felt his tensing fist slacken slightly as he came to decide that they had not brought this upon him intentionally. Well, he thought, if I'm going to die, it might as well be fighting The Rack. With this he drew a short, wide, heavy bladed sword from the scabbard at his belt. Just then, Janiven ran past him, leading the young lad to a trapdoor in the floor. An escape route! Perhaps he wouldn't die here after all. And so it seemed when she beckoned them all to follow. Just then the the armored woman who has declared herself a Sister of Sarenrae ran to the window, and Noa nearly ran after her to pull her back. Fortunately, she turned quickly and headed for the exit, just as the entranceway was covered in a thick oily substance, seemingly from the young gnome as he staggered backward toward the hole in the floor. Next he knew, the awkward man who called himself Vigil was calling to him from the exit, coaxing him to follow. [COLOR="red"]"All in good time, my friend,"[/COLOR] he said as an idea crept to him. Quickly as he could, he upended the table onto its side and slid it across the floor. Swinging his blade over his head, he severed a leg from the table, then with all of his strength he pushed the table across the floor until it reached the edge of the oily liquid at which point he showed as hard as his body would allow, forcing it to the door. Now that there was one more obstacle in the way of the encroaching soldiers, he tore a small section of his sleeve from his tunic, and tied it around the broken table leg. Withdrawing a small flint from his belt pouch and striking it against his sword, he set the cloth aflame. Just as it seemed the door would hold against The Order no longer, he tossed the makeshift torch onto the pool and dove for the trapdoor entrance, taking one last glance as he shoved Vigil forward and closed the trapdoor behind them. [/QUOTE]
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