The Second.... Thingy

[quu]

Welcome, outlanders, to the throne room of (presently unconscious) King Alxis of Glazingstoke. The lilac-colored eyes of the sorcerous Prince Joffrey fix with unnerving penetration upon the party of outlanders as he clasps his beloved father to his breast. Limned he is by the last of his flames; their low ebb purples the face of the slumbering king. The echoes of deep magic swirl in the room and color the sunlight that streams through the windows.

"Explain yourselves." He commands. It is the tone of someone who is used to being obeyed immediately.

Behind him, about him, a few guards are coming around from their poisonous nap. Groggy blinking; clumsy, sleep-swollen hands fumbling to check upturned helmets, or grasp weapons, or smooth ruffled feathers. A muffled "wut happnd" slurs from someone's numb lips. Two piles of black ash smoulder silently upon the dais.

(Free-for-all response)

Comments

Re: SECOND STEP

[tigerbomb]

Deciding the best idea was to put up a fight, he ran straight at the nearest guard, taking a flying leap.

[quu]

This is about as effective as you might expect: it knocks the guard clean out, and results in another two tackling Zell along with the help of an aggressive, beefy citizen who just happened to be waiting for a chance to punch someone's head.

For the moment these actions are not noticed by the king or the prince.

[tigerbomb]

Struggling against the guards and citizen, he attempts cast thunder.

[quu]

Good idea!

Now that the thuggish local and one of the guards is down, Zell has no competition for the attention of the guard still standing.

The one with the staff.

She is muttering a series of strange barbed words that cast a veil of silence upon whoever hears them.

[tigerbomb]

Herpy. That son of a bitch. His mortal enemy.

There was one way to solve this. Dashing as fast as he could, he feints around the guard to punch her in the mouth. The vague realization that Herpy was a girl is lost on him.

[quu]

What a cute tiger! He is about to become familiar with the origin of the term "dogpile."

The awakened guards have not missed that they are dealing with an agile, avid warrior. As this is not a movie, they do not come nicely, one at a time, but leap at him altogether and knock him to the ground. The guard - not Herpy, by the way, but Herpy's twin sister - clutches her bleeding mouth with a narrow-eyed look like someone farted. It is peculiarly familiar, this look.

The guards (three or four of them) attempt to wrestle Zell's hands into handcuffs and his ankles into some more handcuffs.

[tigerbomb]

Being wrestled into handcuffs sounds awful, so he continues to fight back, attempting to ignite.

[quu]

/DICE ROLL

Sorry Zell, but there are too many guards and not enough overdrive.

Zell is cuffed and dragged angrily off to the palace jail, a chilly, albeit relatively clean, stone cell with thick iron bars that have been magically enchanted to punish anyone who attempts to break them.

[tigerbomb]

Hah, jail. Scouting out the cell, he looked for an escape for later.

[quu]

Your highly aggressive ass can expect to be chilling here for a while, son. Better hope someone remembers you. B|

The dungeon is vermin-free and meals are served three times a day. Zell's cell is 10'x10' with no windows and rough stone walls.

[tigerbomb]

Pawing at the ground next to him, he thought about his life decisions.