ad to Worse
Chapter 16: The first jailbreak
There are some who are strong, able to lift tree trunks from the ground and juggle baker carts. There are some smart, able to grasp the intricacies of nature, to comprehend the deepest philosophy. However, there is just one man nimble and clever enough to pick a lock he cannot see with an arm dislocated from his socket.
The Crimson Shadow is this man.
The jailbreak was going according to plan. Zoorah had arrived at their window, and had used his mesmerizing song to lull a guard into leaving the food slot open. The Crimson Shadow leapt upon this opportunity to escape. Although the food slot was too close to the ground to permit a simple pick. Seeing no other option, The Crimson Shadow dislocated his shoulder and finessed the lock open. Unfortunately, there was a (drowsy, but none the less dangerous) guard on the other side. The barbarian made short work of the guard, and they stuffed him into their cell. The barbarian persisted in his illogical persecution of the farmer. He insisted that the old man knew who was behind the plague. While the mage, the ranger and the barbarian assaulted the farmer, The Crimson Shadow ducked into the shadows and prepared to lead the lady elf from the dungeon, then return for the others.
Tragically, there were guards waiting for them at the top of the stairs. They were quietly rounded up and brought downstairs. Seeing an opening, The Crimson Shadow grabbed Bearsky and made a run for it. He picked the upper lock with ease and burst out into the upper story, Favored Soul in hand. The guards were in close pursuit. One grabbed Bearsky's robe.
"Leave me!" she shouted "I'll be fine!"
"I could never abandon a compatriot!" he replied.
"Your bravery is noble, but now is not the time! Leave and regroup. Retreat to save us another day"
With heavy heart, The Crimson Shadow fled into the night, intending to meet up with Zoorah and mount an even more involved assault, freeing his companions.
Long Live Uthellon and the High Council of Moridem
Today I write to you from the cold confines of a cell within Culloden's jailhouse. Oh, how the plans of the just are foiled by the ignorance of law bound men. Amazingly, we find ourselves facing the same fate as the ill-fated farmer whose transgressions against this town have rightfully brought him to this lowly position. I must say he did not arrive of his own volition.
Through a masterful plan, devised by Zephir, we fired our authority and demands within the safety of a bow reach and impelled the farmer's companions to return their friend to the proper authorities. They grudgingly obliged and we followed at a distance until the town's guard met us and brought us before the magistrate, accused of the unlawful murder of the farmer's wife and son. Where is the justice?
Sent on a priestly mission to ascertain the potential cause of the plague, discovering a culprit obviously participating in the cause, or at the very least the spread, of the plague, issuing warning after warning requesting a peaceful surrender, to now find us at the mercy of this Dire Kangaroo court.
I know the men of Culloden are good but they are unable to see beyond the confines of their law. We must find a way out of this cell before day break or, I fear, this may be my last correspondence. Pray to Corellon that we are successful and that I may continue my quest as a truth seeker, beginning with the mysterious plague that infuses the region.
Please tell my mother that I love her.
Corellon's Servant,
Nareth