Miroslaw remained stoic, not entering the room, but rather waiting. Even after hearing the female voice, he was still wary of what threat she may pose. It was extremely odd that a woman would be locked up in a room down in the sewers. He couldn't even begin to create a scenario that would have led to this. Still, he waited. With this two allies entering in, things would likely become more clear.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Whilst it was dark and Argent couldn't quite make out the features of the chained woman, he could indeed tell that she at least appeared to a be a regular, human woman. Slumped against the wall, sitting on the floor, her arms were chained well above her head, her hands apart. She shook them just once whilst looking up at him in the gloom.
"I got into a scrap with one of those blasted Noctis bastards, which I didn't quite get the better of. I thought he'd taken my arm off, but here I awaken, chained to a wall. If it's his doing, I'd like to return the favour but am first in need of someone to free me."
She managed a smile that didn't go altogether unnoticed in the dark. Her voice was quite pleasant, though it smacked of an accent somewhat foreign, certainly not the aplomb of a noble. There was little else Argent could deduce, but she seemed to be of no immediate threat.
Meanwhile Zarr could see less than Argent in the dark, save the same grime upon the floor that Miro could see from the little light in the doorway. Zarr could barely make out what appeared to be a doorway upon the north wall, though.
"Now, which one of you strapping gentlemen can save poor me, hm?"
Argent had heard of the Noctis Venator before in his travels, but he had always pictured them as a bunch of greybeards sitting around a dark room talking in languages that were long dead before even his GREAT grandfather was born. Not as people that would lock a woman in a sewer to rot. However, he was not about to leave her behind.
He looked over her bonds as best he could to guage whether he though he could smash them open with either his shield of the haft of his spear, but judging from the condition of the latch on the door, he was not hopeful.
"Zarr! Check down there and see if you can find a key or something to free this woman."
He gestured to the doorway on the northern wall.
"Miro, watch our backs since you're not coming in."
I was born, shortsword in my hand.
Behind a shield, I'll make my final stand.
Zarr took a few steps closer to the northern wall to see if it was in fact a door. When Argent began to take charge over them, the Soren did not complain. Instead he just nodded back in agreement as he would try and open it, if their was a door handle. If it were locked, he would try and break it down like he did with the last door. That seemed to work well.
Miroslaw stepped into the doorway upon hearing "Noctis". After realizing the room had a higher ceiling and that he could stretch his back out, he decided to move all the way in. This slouching was already beginning to do a toll on his back.
He was familiar with the organization, being friends, or at least, acquaintances, with the leader. Despite being a blunt, rude, and misanthropic person, he was quite reasonable. From what he knew of the Noctis, they were the scholarly type with a reason behind everything they do. The situation simply didn't feel right. He though the woman must be leaving out something important.
His eyes narrowed in on the female as he commanded to the group, "Don't free her just yet," then continued with a question directed at her, "Why were you fighting with the Noctis?"
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Suspicious facial gestures in the dark aside, the woman only sighs with the groups hesitance to help her out.
Zarr finds the door to be open on the north wall, and is immediately met with a rank, odorous smell that instantly makes him gag, harshly. Should he overcome the gut reaction, he might notice that the smell is reminiscent of putrid, rotting meat. He also realizes that he can't see ANYTHING in this room, as there's simply no light.
Meanwhile...
"Oh, because I was hired to steal a thing and he didn't want me stealing a thing and therefore, we had a spat of the physical kind. I don't recall anything after that."
Her voice was certainly less tolerant of Miroslaw's questioning and once answered, she addressed Argent once more.
"Surely you can pry the chains from the wood. I'm simply not strong enough, but can manage these shackles once my hands are able to move a little. Help a lady out, won't you? I'm not quite fond of the dark and that terrible smell can't be good.
I'd be ever so grateful..."
The woman did have a very persuasive way about her.
After gagging from the horrendous smell in the room, Zarr quickly tries to closes the door as he gasps for clean air. As much as he tries to hold it in, he was unable to control himself from puking by the door.
Ugh...
He wipes his mouth with his arm. The old Soren could only imagine that they were bodies left to rott in that room, but did not want to double check and confirm his theory. With no light what so ever, it would be impossible to see what kind of meat it truely was inside.
She WAS being very persuasive. Locking someone someone up for a crime was one thing. Locking said person up in the sewers to rot was another...
"Seems like a reasonable request to me. The sewers not not a place to keep prisoners."
So he made an attempt using either his spear or short sword, whichever he judged would get the job done with no damage to his equipment, to pry the chains from the wood. If it looked like it would damage his equipment, he would stop to look around for something else to use.
"Corpses?
Did you see anything in there?"
I was born, shortsword in my hand.
Behind a shield, I'll make my final stand.
Miroslaw was completely unsatisfied with the answer and nearly immune to the allure of women. However, he gave up his suspicion, at least vocally. He still remained extremely suspicious, and would keep one eye on this thief at all times.
Zarr's puking brought Miroslaw's attention to the door. It was a short time before a dulled version of the smell reached him. Miroslaw was quite familiar with the smell of rot, but what was the source? Just as he was about to speak up with a question, Argent beat him to it.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.
Argent finds that with a little leverage and a bit of elbow grease, he manages to pry one of the anchor points free from the sub-standard wood, which loosens the chain. The prisoner shifts to her knees then and with a wink Argent couldn't see, is able now move her hands.
Cupping the rather large padlock that binds the chains, she mouths a word and a quick but subtle sparkle successfully unlocks her bonds. A grand yank at the chain and a moment later, she is freed. It's still dark of course, but the captive woman leans closer to Argent and kisses his cheek.
"Thank you, doll. You're a real gentlemen, aintcha?"
Now, this leaves all four of our party in the dark, but only for a moment.
"May I?"
Without really waiting on a response (or my way of moving things along), she takes the end of Argent's spear, tears a strip of cloth from the folds of her skirt and once done, uses a similar gesture to the last magic to summon a spark which she first fans, then blows into life.
Argent now wields a spear-come-torch and whilst that might not be an entirely appealing idea, the party can now see in the illuminated room.
"Well then. Aren't you boys heroic? We have Zarr and my nameless saviour, as well as the rather strapping, stoic one, hm? I'm charmed."
Oh dear. The former captive was entirely human and as so much as they could tell, gave them no reason for alarm. She also had quite a way with words that struck a chime in a man's heart. Miro wasn't seasoned enough in any matter of consequence that this occurred to him so much, but his reserved demeanor would nonetheless have a hard time not finding her quite... compelling. He is a man, after all.
Argent was well traveled enough to know a heart-breaker when he met one. She had the looks, she had the personality (yes, already evident) and unfortunately, he knew all men were suckers without complaint. Besides, she'd not pilfered his purse.
Oddly enough, Zarr picked up on the more subtle gestures she made in the torch light and well, NONE of those were anything short of alluring. Hoo boy.
(Much seduction and persuasion lads, she's quite the charmer.)
"Boys, I hate to pry, but are you at all prepared to venture down here? No torch, no picks, not so much as a plan I imagine? I'm indebted for your freeing me, but a girl has to wonder just what she's gotten herself into, no?"
She leaned on Argent then, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder.
"My name is Bella. I'd sure like to know who you all are."
Last Edit: May 28, 2014 3:15:52 GMT -5 by Belladonna
He is taken a bit aback by the magic displayed by the woman. Obviously there was more to her then meets the eye...and there was plenty to meet the eye.
Get it together Argent, she'll love you and leave you...
Yes, but what a lovely time it would be...
He smiles back at her and sketches a small bow with a bit of flourish::
"You may call your rescurer, Argent. A pleasure, m'lady, and I thank you for your gift."
::His hand brushed his cheek so it was hard to tell if he meant the kiss or the light.::
"We are looking for some people said to be hold up down here."
::With a wink he spun to face the others and the door to the north.::
"Shall we take another look at yonder room now that we can see our hands in front of our faces?"
I was born, shortsword in my hand.
Behind a shield, I'll make my final stand.
Zarr would have responded his companions if it wasn't for the seductive mage that kept flirting with them making the old Soren's jaw drop. He had almost completely forgotten about the horrible smell from the room he had just closed or the puke he let out because of it.
Walking over to her, he extends his arm out to greet the woman. It was the same arm that he had cleaned his lips with earlier, still having some vomit smeered on it. The sound of his voice changed some, and he showed a little blush on his face as well as he spoke to her.
With the woman's flirtatious and persuasive manner, Miroslaw had nearly forgotten his original suspicion of the her. She was very pleasant to be around. He didn't even find her magic to be as unsettling as he usually found the art to be.
Since his wife's murder, he vowed to never lust after another woman until his beloved was avenged. Regardless, it felt nice to be in the company of a woman flirting with him. He also found himself pondering an argument he has pondered numerous times before. Is looking lusting?
He was shaken out of his own mind by the words of Argent drawing his attention back to the door. Zarr was not much more than a drooling hound dog at this point. Miroslaw's eyes went from Zarr to the door. "Aye. Let us have a look." He made his way to the door and opened it. He tried not to breathe through his nose, but he knew the stench of rot found its way regardless of precautions.
Death is no more than turning us over from time to eternity. Whether that eternity is damnation or salvation is determined in the time we have.