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CB's The Sunless Citadel v3.5

Karl shrugs to himself at Elyan's request and tries to look as non-threatening as possible as he advances on the young man with his sword drawn to cut the bonds. He contemplates smiling, but runs his tongue over his tusks and considers otherwise, keeping a neutral expression on his face.
 

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The young man blinks wearily at Elyan and, obviously too fatigued to argue or put up a fight, subserviently lays his head back down on the floor. The man's good right eye, however, watches Karl approach with a flicker of fear. Karl slices through the thick hemp rope roughly binding the man, freeing the prisoner. When released from his ropes, the young man flexes his wrist once then rolls over onto his back, as if even that minimal effort at movement has cost him dearly.

After retrieving her pack and the second torch, Kaeleen hurries into the narrow (and now crowded) prison cell to examine the quarry. The man is young and certainly has seen no more than a score of summers. Judging by his swollen left eye and the nature of other bruises about his face and torso, he has been beaten with a blunt object--either a large fist or some other equally forceful bludgeoning instrument. Three ribs seem to be broken and his knees have been hobbled, which even if healed, will likely render him victim to a permanent limp. A distended bit of the young man's mid-section attests to a probable internal injury, and a festering gash on his left forearm sports tell-tale red streaks of infection that aim for the heart.

Kaeleen judges that with long-term care and enough healing, he might live, but it won't be an easy or a short ordeal.

Grotzkoshter keeps a wary eye on the doors and the large fountain room to the north. Meepo pantomines practicing fencing while waiting for the other three to exit the prison cell. The kobold is quite animated at his show of arms, and affects theatrical grunts of exertion at every exuberant thrust with his blade, stabbing at the wall, the fountain to the south, or thin air.
 

While being examined by Kaeleen, the young man winces in pain as the elf's fingers seek out the worst of his injuries. Near the end of her inspection, the lad forces a word from his lips. "Sister."
 

His keen ears catching the young man's barely audible comment, Elyan leans over and says, "Your sister? What is your name? Who is your sister? We were sent to find a brother and sister."
 


Kaeleen : Female Elf Cleric of Corellon Larethian 2

Kaeleen grasps her holy symbol with one hand while she makes waving patterns with her other and intones divine words of power. She ends the motions with a touch to the man's shoulder sending healing power into the injured body.

OOC: cure light wounds: 1d8+2 healing
 

Kaeleen's fingertips light with holy white fire. Touching the young man gingerly on the worst of his wounds on his mid-section, Kaeleen channels Corellon's healing grace into the young man, to the tune of 6 HP restored. The lad's eyes flicker open and blink. Rubbing at the back of his head and sitting up with a grimace at the pool of cloyingly sweet-smelling urine in which he lies, the youth attempts to move but stops short of standing as a groan of pain seems to unwittingly issue from the effort. Even still, a more focused eye blinks again, taking in Elyan, the bard's dog, the priestess, and then fearfully spying the pair of half-orcs. The lad rubs a second time at his head, then shifts the brunt of his attention to Kaeleen. "Unlikely aid, in so dark a place. I haven't seen light in..." the boy seems at a loss for how long it might have been since last he saw light but presses forward indiscriminatingly, obviously casting about for a time reference. "...in days." The youth falters, indecision and fear writ plainly on his face and woven thickly into his speech.
 

"So, friend, you sound better."

The young bard smiles and nods encouragingly.

"Now, tell us your name, and that of your sister. For I'm sure it's you we're here to save - compliments of your aunt."
 

"My aunt, curse her! She sent you?!" The lad unconsciously reaches for a blade that is absent from his left hip. Chosing instead to scrabble to his feet and back away from Elyan and Kaeleen, the blonde youth makes a fist and spits. "Working for her'll get you naught but a cold grave, I warrant. Either way, I'll not go down without a fight." The boy's eyes flick to Grotzkoshter and Karl standing outside the jail cell and fear invades his gaze.
 

"Whoa, lad! Whoa!"

Elyan frowns thoughtfully. "So there's more to this tale to unfold in the telling. Say on, friend, say on! The more sides a story has, the closer we come to truth."

"What's your argument with your aunt? Why so violent in your rejection of your rescuers?"
 

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