Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20190911184542/@comment-5583506-20190914033452

As the Breton knight was being led away in shackles, he glanced over his shoulder as the company by the docks disappeared in the distance.

He frowned with a heavy face and sighed deeply.

"Yeah, you better say your farewells, murderer", said one of the Senchal Lions. "It's time you get a taste of how we deal with cold-blooded killers like you around here."

The knight just glared at them with a sunken eye. "What is going to become of me?" he asked steadily.

"Elsweyr justice", hissed another of the Lions quizzically.

Whatever that meant was up to anyone's guess, but it was implied by the cruel smirk of the other guards, that the punishment would be severe. Maybe not enough to warrant a death penalty, but surely one that would make any prisoner wish for it. Perhaps he would be delivered to some friends of these guards? An easy picking for them to torment as they pleased.

They pushed him along the way, further into the bustling city, where he had to endure the condemning stares of the local populace. They walked past bazaars and open markets. Khajiit children ran in front of them and past them, teasingly pointing at him and the Senchal Lions. They were given a stern visual warning in the form of a hand placed on the hilt of a sword by the side of one of the guards. They took the point and scurried off, but not before shouting something indecent behind them in their wake. One of the Senchal Lions playfully motioned a kick in their direction, before grinning and catched up to the remainder of the group. It would seem that the guards were well acquainted with the small local rascals.

They pushed him into a courtyard surrounded by planted palm trees on either side, and further up to the entrance of a keep, built on a foundation of polished sandstone, and with steps of shimmering statuary marble tiles. It didn't really look like a prison of any kind, judging by the exterior, but the knight knew for certain that it was. Behind those walls he could only take a guess at how many ne'er-do-wells were shaking cages.

The entrance to the keep had pillars made from ivory, laid in with bricks of black cypher. The doors were made out of carved acacia, with reliefs depicting various wild animals that roamed the massive Tenmar forest.

On the other side there awaited several other guards. Instructions and orders were given to them to take over the escort of the prisoner and bring him to the dungeons.

The knight closed his eyes as he tried to focus. He really needed to get out of here as soon as possible, but not before the coast was clear. No doubt that the whole keep would be in an upheaval the moment they noticed a prisoner missing, but then again, maybe they had their hands full already as it was. Only time would tell.

The new guards brought the Breton down to a dry cell with white walls that had begun to peel and shed flakes. Some straws had been spread out on the ground for comfort as there were no beds in the prison. Bright beams of sunlight found its way in through a thin window with bars high up towards the ceiling.

One of the Senchal Lions showed him inside and locked the cell door with a scoff. "You will have your trial soon enough, murderer. Assuming this one can remember it." The guard chuckled at his own intimidating statement and then withdrew from the dungeon with a nod of his head, signaling for his comrades to follow him up and outside.

There was a loud rattling noise as the echo of the jailor's keys unlocked the heavy dungeon door carried on throughout the many naked vaults, ending with a deafening metallic boom as the door slammed shut behind them.

The Breton knight peeked out through his cell bars and observed his surroundings. He seemed to be alone. There was another prisoner in the next cell, but the Khajiit seemed to be on a whole other level of existence. Either because of a case of severe Skooma overdose, or simply because he was crestfallen enough to have given up hope of reality and the chance of freedom.

The knight sat down to reflect for a moment, gather his thoughts. It would be a pain to make it out of this and back to the group with the armor still on. A quick observation of the cell window bars seemed to make him realise that the armor would indeed fit through them, but not with him still inside it. And even with the bars removed would it make it hard to squeeze past them without making a sound that would alert the guards.

The Breton surveyed his surroundings one more time, making sure that he was indeed completely alone, not counting the neighboring Khajiit who was knocking on heaven's door. He also took the time to climb up to the best of his abilities and gaze out at whatever was waiting him on the other side of the window. It appeared to be some back alley street. Unlike the places they had passed on their way to the keep, this one was barely crowded at all. Just one or another beggar frequented these streets, hoping that someone would find their way and the kindness to toss them a coin or two.

The knight listened closely. There didn't appear to be any guards nearby. Not in the dungeon or even outside the window of his cell. Whether they were just sloppy, or had their hands full with an influx of crime waves, he couldn't tell. But in the end it would benefit him even more.

It was time.

He removed all of the armor. It had been getting rather uncomfortable to wear something that heavy and ugly. The clothes stayed on, itchy as they were. From the vial holder in the belt, he searched for something that would make the escape all the more easier, eventually coming across the right one.

Then she dropped the disguise of the glamour. Kashya had played the knight enough for one day. And once she was out of there, the guards wouldn't know what or who they were looking for. With the vial in her hand, she climbed up to the fortified bars of her cell window and applied its contents, watching as the metal corroded, and then shrivelled up like a burnt piece of paper. She pushed all the armor pieces out once the coast was clear, and then got ready for the final climb, but not before she came face to face with the prisoner in the cell next to hers.

The Khajiit looked freaked out of his poor Skooma-addled mind, wondering whether this whole display of a Breton knight changing into a Khajiit woman was the result of the overdose. Maybe it was time for him to stop?

Kashya glanced him over. She had no fear that this man would tell on her. And even if he did, who would believe a Skooma user?

Instead she just smiled at him and approached him. She flipped through her vials until she came across the right one, which she extended to him.

"For your affliction", she said.

The Khajiit just took it without saying a word or breaking eye contact with her. He was still too far gone. Though she reckoned that with a sip or two of the potion, he would soon enough be rid of his need. Anti-toxins, even if they were relatively harmless in the long run, were also highly addictive, so she guessed that she had just traded his addiction for another. Still it was a better alternative, and perhaps it would buy his silence.

She just gave him an appreciating nod and then disappeared out the window. Once out on the street she would find little attention given to her by the few onlookers. She had no time to lose. She looked around for the closest sack she could find to store all the armor parts in, which she then flung over her back, making her look like a common working class woman as she started to make her way back towards the docks.

No doubt that the group would have moved on by now. Not that it mattered to her. She would find them. Eventually...