The room buzzed with a new energy, a spark of hope ignited among the weary slaves. The men had laid down their accusations against Stick and now started to come up with ideas on where the lords could escape to. There were uncertainties on which route would be safest, since they didn’t have contact with the outside world in years. Some ideas were dismissed immediately, like trying to cross the border through the No Man’s Land between the two warring factions southwest. Anything east of the manor, like the Nova Civitas, the capital city in the northeast where Carnifex had its seat, or the old factory in the Dragon’s Spine in the southeast, were deemed too dangerous to even consider “hiding in plain sight”. In the end, the men agreed on Titor’s plan: If in any case Stick and the twins got split up, the lords would first travel to the ruins of Pridtur in the west and stay there until they hunted enough game to continue their journey up north to the ruins of the former capital, Cavon. They could easily raid goblin camps near the city but far away enough from the border to continue their way to the North Strip, where a guild neutral to the conflict between Carnifex and the Heavenly Union called B4 resided. They could plead their case at B4 in the hopes of being allowed to cross the northern border to travel to the capital of the Heavenly Union in the west, Cupiditas. Stick didn’t pretend to understand what any of that meant, but he still bopped his head in agreement like the other men listening to the plan did. But what if that neutral guild doesn’t want to help us?
As if he heard Stick’s thoughts, Varyan said: “B4 will help us. Leonhart knew our grandfather well. He might even be there at their headquarters.”
Leonhart, huh?
The plan was audacious, fraught with danger, but Stick knew it was their only chance. If the lords and knights escaped, then they could find Cassandra and Alastair Blitz and come back with a stronger force to free the rest of them. He looked around the room, meeting each person’s gaze. He saw determination in their eyes. They knew the path ahead would be perilous, but for the first time in a long while, one could feel hope rising through the ranks of the slaves. Together, they would fight for their freedom and carve out a new destiny, far from the control of the Players and the Baron. The decision had been made. The time for action is now.
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As the night sky’s dark blue started to lighten up, the slaves had finished laying out the plan. They agreed on how to prepare for the big day, who would play which role and, equally as important, who would stay out of everything. The lords and knights respected the decisions of those who weren’t ready to risk their lives and those of their loved ones still trapped inside the manor. These men were still brave enough to stay and keep working the same quota with fewer miners, risk burning their housing and lie to the Players about their involvement with the escape. Their lives would become way worse in every aspect if they stayed, but they put all of their trust into the lords to break them free one day. They all went up to the twins to tell them so and wish them luck on their dangerous task. Some of them, including Cadmun, even came up to Stick to thank him for coming up with such a thought-out plan. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud. That’s the first step of becoming a hero!
He felt tired after talking throughout the night, so he sat down inside the Commoner’s tent by himself and watched the men through the entrance, smiling, laughing and talking, filled to the brim with joy. A few teased Cadmun that he was out of shape to fight Reacher or Becket, but Titor and Smith quickly came to Cadmun’s side and started a scuffle to defend his honour. The brawl ended just as fast as it began the moment Cadmun dropped all pretence of not being hurt by the men’s words and started dishing out some serious punches. At the sign of the first blood, when one of the men reached 0 [LP], the fight concluded and the bruised brawlers all started to laugh together. The miners admitted their fault and expressed their respect, that Cadmun still had it in him. How nice to see them so… happy.
image [https://i.imgur.com/vh5opvL.jpeg]
Stick giggled as he observed the men further, content with what hope he had given them. His peace was interrupted when someone massive stood in the frame of the entrance and blocked the moonlight coming through. It was PP, who had recovered from his wounds and sat down in front of him. What now?
When the big man opened his mouth, his soft voice came out: “We need to talk.”
“Talk? You?” Stick nervously said. “That’s unusual.”
“I’m serious.”
Stick gulped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. You just never seem to want to talk much.”
PP placed his elbows on his knees and leaned in closer to Stick. “This requires a talk.”
“What is?” Stick asked.
With a dead serious voice, PP said: “I don’t like your plan.”
You what now?