((Yeah, I read your post. I just wasn't sure if our characters were in the cells too. ))

Amaran quickly sorted through his options. One: He could make a break for it in his wolf form. There was a good chance of escaping the prison. Of course, a wolf would be quite out of place in such a large city. Two: He could refuse and be tortured (There was no way he would admit to his crime). Or three, he could accept the mages offer. This seemed the best solution. He wouldn't die, wouldn't be tortured. "I accept also" Amaran added. Yep he said to himself. its always the third choice

The mage smirked as it was obvious that none of them was suicidal enough to decline, but at least suicidal enough to accept. Of course he would have to enforce some reminders for them as not all of them might prove as obedient as they seemed.

"Good, but I will be watching frequently and should any of you depart from the group then you shall find more than guards on your tails.... speaking of which, your equipment and some extra rations have been stored in the room behind us. It is also the only way out, get your gear and those rations then beat it. The guards will be on your tails as soon as the shift swaps, call it a first test where you must prove yourselves capable of escaping, if things go awfully wrong..."

The mage said before picking out a small orb from his pocket and in a blinding flash he was gone. Crove hmphed loudly as the mage left, showing his clear despise for the mage who would have otherwise had his magic constrained. Crove, along with some thieves, left for the next room, which was as the mage had told them. No guards, all of their equipment and extra rations for the journey. Crove grabbed his equipment and some rations before concentrating, executing a spell and disappearing into thin air. Invisible, he made his way out of the prison building and was able to by pass any guards that might have been on partol.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

(i finally put my history on my profile)

Slender, dirty but very pretty. The young woman was leaning against the cell door listening to the mage with intrest. Her crimes were bad enough, but she knew she could last through torturing. But the offer the mage was proposing was even a better choice. Freedom, if they could complete one task. Easy enough. But Emmeline was too smart to know that it would be far from easy. Her almost malnourished, long dirty blond hair, pale skin, high cheek bone structured body might give her the appearance of a untrustworthy-dumb theive, but her intelligence was far more advanced from the common theive. Emmeline leaned back on her heels. The offer was almost to good to be true. She wasn't an excellent mage, but she could do some magic.
This would prove to be difficult but she was up for a challenge.
Emmeline went into the small room grabbed her equipment and some rations before steathly heading out. She froze when she saw Dominic gaurding the jail. Fixing a face of determination and hatred, Emmeline started off, making sure no one was on her tail, especially Dominic.

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<center>

[font=Times New Roman]
Hello, I'm Amoniel
[/font]</center>

Amaran nodded grimly. He made his way to the room that supposedly held thier gear. As the fist one there, he scouted out the pack that looked most durable, then set it on his shoulders. He wasn't quite sure were he was to go, but he wasted no time as he ran as stealthily as possible out fo the jail.

Arielle hesitated for a moment, wondering if they would survive better in a group, before realizing that they actually wouldn't. These people seemed to be entirely self-concerned, after all, as she was. As she grabbed a torch and made her way into the dim room, she considered the implications of the lack of group mentalilty. There would be squabbles, yes. Arguments - plenty. Backstabbing - most likely. Perhaps this wasn't such a wonderful idea, after all. Hold that thought.

The mercenary picked out the long bundle that was composed of her weapons: a longbow, almost as tall as she; a quiver of clothyard arrows; her father's dirk; a leather belt, with her money pouch, waterskin, and knife still intact. It was all wrapped in her cloak - a rough, dark affair with a few pockets on the interior, containing the rest of the tools of her trade.

Fastening on her equipment and picking out a rations pack - which seemed to consist mainly of dried meat - she kept her knife in a reverse grip and plotted her escape.

It didn't take very long, because she had no idea of the jail's layout. Ah, well. Wing it. This would be fun. The most direct route was probably the best; any difficulties would have to be resolved by force.

Arielle didn't have such a bad time of it. The mage had been extremely competent; guards were either not present or sleeping. The main door did prove to be problematic. The soldiers there were fully alert, and there were several of them. Even if she could dispose of all of them, the scuffle would draw attention, both to herself and to the others. While it might be handy to be rid of the other thieves, it would also leave her alone with the mage and his his cronies. She didn't possess enough power to be comfortable with that.

Wrapping the dark folds of her cloak around her body, Arielle slipped past the door, remaining inside instead of walking out and into the guards. She slunk up a nearby stairwell, keeping close to the wall to avoid creaking boards. Two flights up, she found a convenient window, larger than an arrow slit, probably intended for defenders to toss rocks or boiling oil through. Or mercenaries.

She drew her climbing spikes out of her cloak and strapped them on to her knees and hands, removing her boots in the process and hanging them around her neck. Once through the window, she easily found grips on the stone wall - this building had not been well maintained or chinked.
Five minutes later, she was on the ground and well on her way out of the city to join the group.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

The black-clad, dark-skinned young woman who had first questioned the arrogant mage's proclamations of doom was the last one to leave. She exited the room he'd indicated with a scimitar hanging from her belt, absently tucking a tiny dagger into her thick braid of dark hair. Half of it was falling untidily around her face, but she pushed the tendrils aside and, shouldering a randomly chosen pack, slipped out of the dimly lit corridor.

For the others who possessed limited or not-so-limited abilities as far as magic went, escaping was all very well. But besides wearing black, Jada had no manner of assisting herself in clinging to the shadows. Her infallible sense of direction was an asset, as was the automatic map she built in her head of every fortress she'd ever been in. This one was almost completely constructed, Jada having spent some time languishing in a dank, damp cell. But the fact that the limited magic she possessed - the basics of a desert brand of the power unknown to most others - did not assist her in making herself at least partway invisible made Jada the last to arrive, trotting soundlessly out into the courtyard and reluctantly making for the group already gathered.

None of them looked trustworthy at best, and at worst conniving sneaks liable to hand you a spot beyond the gates of Death as soon as look at you. Jada resolved to quit them as soon as was possible.

_________________

Tallis was the second last to leave, just before Jada. He gladly picked up his mantled cloak; elven double bow, which was just a normal composite elven longbow with two strings so you could fire two arrows at one time and they would still be accurate; his quiver; and his four-bladed hand weapons. He threw the cloak over his shoulders, allowing it to fall between his wings, and clasped it around his neck.

He had no problem avoiding the guards and getting out of the city. As soon as he stepped outside, he flared his wings out and took off. Tallis enjoyed the sensation of flight for a few moments before landing in the clearing where the group was gathering.

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

Ruthnak wasted no time in going to the room. He quickly found his bow, quiver of arrows, and knives in a pile. Strapping them into their normal places, he also found the pack he had been wearing when he was arrested. It was lighter than he remembered it being- the guards had likely taken his money and food.

Slipping out of the room, the half-orc found most of the guards were sleeping. He paused, remembering how he had been brought into the jail. The main doors were down a hallway to his right, but he was likely to be spotted if he exited there. Instead, he walked down the hallway to his left and found a small side door. It led him to an alleyway. From there, he was able to follow a larger street until he was outside the city walls.

(hmh, everyone`s posts don`t match up. One writes about gathering in a courtyard, the others outside the city on a clearing and finally one wrote about escaping a fortress all tough we are escaping a city. 1. it`s a city 2. Our characters gather outside the city.)

Crove was the first to arrive to the clearing outside the city, it provided some cover from the guards sights on the city walls, but as dawn would come they would be ridiculously easy to spot. He snapped his fingers and dispersed the illusion before sitting down to wait for the rest to appear.

They were pawns, pawns in the game of this mage for greater glory, some obviously taking the mages word and trusting him as where others harbored personal motives. Crove was intent on gaining everything he could, he could easily just take what he needed and disappear from the others. Such fools who knew nothing of magic or his capabilities, Crove did spot the one flying down to the meeting place and smirked as the avariel landed.

"A shame that haven`t had your wings clipped, it would... help you blend in, would it not?"

He taunted the winged elf.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

((oops! I edited my post. lol))

Ruthnak made his way to the clearing, joining the mage and winded elf. He sat down near the edge of the clearing to wait. <i>Wonder who else will show up.</i> he thought idly. Some of the prisoners had most likely taken the opportunity to vanish into the city, or make their way out of it, instead of going to the clearing. Ruthnak had entertained the idea himself, but was intrigued by what he had heard of Silvermoon. He would stay with the group, at least for awhile.

Tallis took Crove's taunt as a simple question, he was used to having jibes directed his way. He folded his wings to his back, not quickly as if protecting them, but not slowly as if he was flaunting them, "That it would. But it would deny a peice of my heritage, a peice of my sould if you will. Besides, is it such a crime to be different?"

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

((Woops, guess I didn't read slowly enough to grasp exactly what we're doing. I didn't edit because...I'm lazy...but I know what we're doing now))

"Obviously he hasn't blended in as well as he might wish, or he would not be here." This was directed rather caustically at Crove, from Jada, who stood shadowed in the trees. She was surprisingly hard to spot. She fell silent, regarding Crove from where she stood with an air of superiority. If this whole - excursion - was to be peppered with petty insults flying to and fro, she wanted even less part in it than she had upon first hearing of the journey.

Lost in her thoughts she found herself unconsciously glancing around her, scanning the trees and the silent city wall through the forest, mentally calculating the fastest way to escape should she need to. Jada shook herself out of it - it was a habit long born of living in hiding. How long had it been? Seven years since she fled the desert? Seven years of watching her back for potential assassins, seven years of pretending to be what she wasn't. Jada shook loose hair, strands escaping from her braid, out of her face. These 'companions' were no different. She would quit this group as soon as she could, mage or no.

_________________

(sorry Curunir, I changed my bio agian! I am really really sorry! It's on the first page)

Kiana stepped out of the darkness. Her skin was pale and her hair jet black. Two bright green eyes stared out of hollow looking lids and high cheek bones. She looked at the group assembled there and narrowed her eyes.
"Enough with the pointless comments, we have a job to do and I would rather it be done sooner than later." Her voice was cold and far-away. She had many traumas in her past and she didn't want to be convicted for them. Obviously she couldn't escaped so finishing what she agreed to do was her only option.

_________________
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[font=Times New Roman]
Hello, I'm Amoniel
[/font]</center>

(mybad. edited)

Arielle eyed the woman in black for a moment, not really noticing the female elf - this one was more interesting. Shadowed and dressed as she was, the only thing the mercenary could really make out was the flash of white in her eyes and the momentary glint of teeth. She looked extremely comfortable in the darkness, almost as one shadowborn. But then, long aquaintance bred familiarity, did it not?

"There's none of us wish to be here, lass," she flung back. "And that's the point of it. There's things one must do - but the question is, how far will you go? At what point will you break, and having broken, yield?" Perhaps she shouldn't have opened that philosophical can of worms, but it was too late to take it back, now. She swept a wary gaze through the surrounding trees, knowing that some of the shadows belonged to the mage's sworn.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Crove simply smiled at those of the group that showed their obvious resent towards him and slightly scratched his neck with a bothered face.

"We have a long road ahead of us, bickering will get us nowhere and for those with thoughts of bailing out now that we are outside the city, I suggest you do not. Not that I really care, but just as a friendly warning. The mage has ways of knowing about our where abouts and if someone trails off they will be hunted down.

No matter how free, capable or skilled you might think you are in the wilderness he will find you or whatever serve him. This isn`t just some lone mage trying to benefit from a group of convicts."

Crove informed before reaching for a map tightly scrolled on a belt running along his shoulder. He opened the map and gazed at it in the moonlight,

"I suggest we go west past Mirabar, and then past longsaddle towards the south and pass south of the evermoors as it is obvious that the place is crawling with trolls. Then trough Everlund and along the road to Silverymoon. Any objections?"

(the map: http://koti.mbnet.fi/~cerberus/kuvat/fo ... 20full.jpg

One a side note I must say that the trolls of FR are different from that of middle earth, they are perhaps slightly smaller in height, far more thinner built, their main weapons are their claws, they regenerate limbs and can be only killed by fire or acid.)

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

"One" Amaran answered. "What is it you want from us? You say you free us from our prison, but you must have motives. I'd like to know them." Amaran was regretting agreeing so blindly to this man's request. For all he knew thier journey would leave him no better of than his fate in jail.