Milo Greyson

This band of merry criminals was moving fast, and that was part of the success. It looked like Opcan, while not a military man, was no fool. Generally speaking there seemed to be a handful of roles here. Every new joiner was given one, and sent to his respective area.

The first were the outriders, the fastest and most aggressive men were put near the front and were running down, killing every guard, paladin, and friend to the defenders they could as fast as they could. We all knew that there was no time to spare, and letting our enemies form up against us would be a mistake we might not survive. Instead we'd surprise them by getting through the cells faster than they realized, outpacing the runners and estimates as much as we could.

Behind them were the heavy hitters, followed closely by the support. If the men blitzing down the halls couldn't take a choke-point they fell back, letting them deal with it. It was primarily Opcan and Bruiser doing the big damage, with a few other big brutish types and some skeletons backing up the former. Thana was placed here, beside a man who was being delivered all of the wands and scrolls as we moved, along with most of the spellcasting components. He was sifting through them, using the items to heal up the big guys.

The bulk of our group was releasing everyone we could, growing the problem as big as possible. A couple of bigger guys here were sorting the new recruits into the sections, pointing them to where they would go if they wanted to live. There were also quick-fingered men braking into all of the guard rooms to gather equipment, anything that looked useful really.

Then came those deemed mostly useless, they were carrying the stuff. Anything that could maybe be used, including all the bodies that could be managed, was here. If someone didn't quickly take it, this was where it ended up. It looked like Opcan thought he might need lots of it before the final push, so it was being brought along.

Finally came the rear guard. Someone knew their stuff, because a number of well-built men, often a bit older though, were here. They were making sure everyone kept moving, and that nobody could ambush us and slaughter the bulk of the group before we could respond. There were even a few scouts among the rear, running back upwards periodically in groups to check of anything out of place.

I'd been releasing people fast as I could for the last couple of floors, till one of the leaders of my section came by, jerking his head towards the front.

“Boss wants you over there with him,” the half-orc said gruffly.

“On it,” I replied, the general mood was that while most everyone was a right bastard, they all thought following the man who could throw fireballs would work out best. In all honesty it was a pretty good assessment, so long as the magus didn't sacrifice them, which I expected he would.

“The young lady simply insists that you serve as her guard, regardless of how much I tell her it's unnecessary,” he said flatly as I approached.

“I trust him,” she said, and I resisted the urge to smile a bit.

“I've told you I'm far stronger than he is,” Opcan said.

“Well aware of that, but I don't particularly trust you.” She was busy repairing the stomach of one of his undead, it must have been struck at some point.

“I'll have to work on that then. Until then I suppose, you'll serve as her bodyguard. I'll be quite put out if she comes to harm, keep that in mind.” His tone to her was kindly, almost gentle, if a bit creepy, but to me he was cold, that was quite understandable.

I fell in beside her, keeping an eye out for threats. She still was the girl I'd saved, and I couldn't say I'd have done much different in her position from what she had. Hopefully we could make it through this. The only thing that really bothered me was that the necklace I'd put on her not so long ago was gone. She no longer felt the need or desire to wear the holy symbol of Vitala.

Thana Mourningjay

Milo and I had made good progress on our own, faster then this group was, but I had to admit, these guys were going quick. Before I knew it we were at the twenty-first floor. It hadn't even been an hour since I joined them, the guards simply couldn't respond to all of their problems right now.

One of the forward runners came back, he'd taken a stab wound to the gut and looked horrid. The man with the wands went to patch him up while he gave his report to Opcan.

“Mrgh... they've barricaded the stairwell down to twenty, spears between interlocking shields or some kind of wood barrier. No was through I could see.” He was sweating as the wand man poked the stick at him, a faint glow coming from the tip.

“How'd they know?” The spellcaster asked him, looking down.

“One of their runners got away from us, quick bastard. Suspect they were sending a bigger team after their others didn't report back though. Looked like their little barrier was still being built when I got there.” His breathing was settling as the healing took hold. After that he gave a few of the technicals on the construction, nothing that I really followed well.

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“Good job reporting back.” Opcan turned to a runner. “Bring me whoever looks important, we need to talk.”

“Problem boss?” Crusher asked, looking over to him.

“A few, but nothing we can't deal with. Thana, don't suppose you have something that could deal with their barrier?” He didn't look that hopeful, but asked regardless.

“Not even close,” I responded.

At his look to the healer the man scoffed. “I'm practically useless without a spellbook. At least I can use these trinkets, but even those are less than one of their casters could do.”

“If we find one it's yours, but I doubt we will my friend. Know at least that you're a vital part of this operation. Without you all this would be so very much harder.” Opcan complimented easily I realized, he wasn't wrong, but he heaped praise on those who he thought were useful to him, more if they were doing what he wanted.

People started to arrive in a few small groups. They all looked around at us.

“We've stopped, so I assume there's something we need to talk about?” One of the men said, respectful, if only barely.

“There is, the guards have set up a barricade, and from what I've heard a strong one at that. I could use magic to break their ranks, but doing so would leave me without enough spells to respond should we suffer a counter attack. I think we soon will, based on the fact that the sun is on its way down. They'll come in the night, using the darkness to hide until they're near, then strike.”

“So, what do we do?” One of the others asked.

“My suggestion is that we rest and replenish ourselves. Come morning we'll have fresh spells to throw against them, and I have a one or two that could bolster our men with little effort tonight.” Opcan stroked his stubble as he went over the options. “We can barricade up both sides of this floor after moving all of our men and supplies here, rest, and then attack when we're ready. Fighting through the night was never an option anyway.”

“They'll get to rest too, and they've more men than we do,” another pointed out.

“Men the warden can't bring to bear,” Milo said, leaning against a wall. “Lightstone is between a rock and a hard place right now. Most of his best men were killed or sent off to defend the city, which failed. As for using prisoners against us, he won't, we'd give a better deal to them then he is. He's also got to keep a lot of his in reserve just to look after the prisoners he's definitely using against the Corians.”

“How many could he use?” I asked.

“Right now? I'd say he couldn't bring more than two-hundred against us at once, if he were willing to risk everything. Bigger issue for us would be him sending a force to attack from above. The back stairs have an opening on twenty-five he might be able to get through, and it wouldn't surprise me if he can unseal all of the old doors if he wanted. Might also place spies in cells on some of the lower levels to get close to our leaders.”

“I don't deny that it is a risk. Our enemy will have time to rest too, and perhaps someone will send him reinforcements, I cannot say. What I can say is that if we continue we'll all be fighting at half strength, as we'll start losing men much faster. We've already proven ourselves their superiors, if we come back stronger tomorrow I think we're in a much better position. Unless someone has some other idea they could put forward?” The sorcerer asked the crowd. There were sounds of worry, but nobody had anything better.

“Good, sleep sounds nice,” Crusher nodded with a slight smile.

“Since I'm going to rest I think I might provide us all with something to help us. If we escape we'll all be noticed almost instantly, the prison clothes, the prison look, the shoes.” I looked down at my own shoes, thin slippers that basically only served to keep me from slipping or getting my feet too cold. “To solve that, and provide everyone with something I think will make us all fell a bit more ourselves...”

The caster plucked out a gem from his pocket, neither too big nor small and found a spot between some walls. Uttering words as he reached up a beam of light stretched between the stones, solidifying into a solid post. From it more of the magic dripped down like a river, leaving behind a glow in the air. As the light faded, stacks upon stacks of clothing were revealed, hanging there waiting. After pulling several off he moved away, letting everyone else take their picks.

“You can make clothes?” I asked in near disbelief.

“Odd spell isn't it? In my younger days I often found myself in need of such things. Not a powerful spell, and requiring such an expensive gem to use it means you can't really make any money from it, but I'm still fond, reminds me of my youth, and a good reward for everyone right now.” He spoke as he handed out clothing to myself, Crusher, and the medic.

“I have no clue how to put these on...” I whispered, looking at the multi-layer outfit I'd been handed. It seemed to include a full set of undergarments, and high boots, all of good make.

“The inner layers should be below the outer ones. I'm sure a clever girl like you can manage. Ah, and to quote an old friend who was, like you, of the feminine persuasion, 'When other options for protection are unavailable, chainmail makes an excellent foundation garment.' since it doesn't seem to impede your casting in the least.”

Opcan kept casting as he led us over to the guard's storage room. As I watched a fog began to drift down one arm, circling around as it roved over his form, leaving him looking freshly washed.

“I remember that one, one of the first things you learn. Heh, all the girls in town loved it, always clean and smellin' nice,” our medic said.

“Oh where are my manners, Harkan, would you like?” He said offering his hand out.

“Much appreciated,” the man accepted, and I watched the same fog cover him, with the same results.

“Thana? If you don't mind me saying, you could use it.” I only waffled for a second before nodding.

The sensation was odd, a sort of, buzzing, mixed with the feeling of rain on the skin. Feeling it move across me was just weird, but the results... I had to try not to sigh in pleasure as the funk of the day just fell away, cleaner than I'd been in I didn't even know how long. Even my teeth felt amazingly clean. Only one thing bothered me about it.

“Strawberries?” I said, sniffing a lock of hair.

“The spell can sometimes leave a scent behind, it should fade with time,” he lied, clearly understanding that he'd overstepped. Even when he was trying to be nice, he too often came off just slightly... wrong. “Crusher?”

“Nah, like the smell of blood and sweat,” the brute said.

Milo wasn't even considered, not surprising.

After we all changed, luckily separately, I noticed the clothes. Opcan and I both had much nicer clothes than anyone else, far, far nicer, and we matched. If you'd gone to a seamstress and asked her to make us matching outfits, these might well have been the results. Both were a mixture of dark grays, blues, and black, mine with a calf-length skirt, as opposed to his trousers, and both sporting subtle embroidery. It even came with a sort of cloak, which looked great but wasn't really what we needed in this situation. The high boots were perfect though, comfy and very stable.

Harkan our healer had an outfit of similar cut, but of a reddish color which fit well with his complexion. His however were lacking a lot of the details, those instead replaced by a multitude of pockets. It advertised that while he was a caster and worthy of respect, he also was of lower status, and was sub-par to us. Either the man missed the dig at himself or didn't care, because Harkan seemed thrilled.

Everyone else ended up with comfortable-looking well-made traveling clothes. There were a few of the common colors, with variants on thick-soled boots. They too seemed happy, some undressing and redressing right in the hall, a few though looked towards me with envy or other dark emotions. Milo on the other hand kept on what he had on, seeming satisfied with it.

As we ate in the falling darkness I turned towards Milo, smiled, and said. “Oi, look who got dinner.” Before shoving a bit more of the dried berry bar into my face.

It took him a moment to register what I'd said, then another to cross reference it with his earlier declaration of punishment, then the chuckling began. Nobody else got it, but that was fine, because I found it hilarious.

After that I mentally ordered Mr. Bones, because Perry was dead, to defend me, then crawled into some freshly magically cleaned bedding in the storeroom and passed out. I was on third watch and wanted all the sleep I could get.