03 – The Taste of Freedom

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With the two guards standing outside the open stockade doors, you take advantage of the moment to try to break free.

Cursing his twitching muscles, Cobb attempts to slip from his shackles.

(Cobb uses his Sleight of Hand class ability to attempt a DC 25 Agility check. Roll is a natural 20! Final value is 20 + 9 – 2 = 27.)

With the skill of a natural contortionist, Cobb easily slips free from his restraints! He immediately begins hunting for a makeshift lockpick to free the others, disguising his actions so as not to draw attention from the guards.

(Cobb attempts a Scav Scan, a DC 15 Perception check. Roll is 2 + 4 = 6. No good.)

Relying on his ‘Blindsense’ mutation, Cobb hunts for a carelessly discarded wire or other such device that could be used as a makeshif lockpick, but his search comes up empty.

Jumrak’s spirits are lifted, seeing that freedom is possible – he does not want the opportunity of the open stockade door to go to waste. Mustering up all his strength, he utters a quick prayer to Stala, the god of justice, and tries to break his bonds…

(Jumrak attempts a DC 25 Strength check to rip his chains right out of the wall. Roll is 14 + 9 = 23; not quite good enough! Jumrak suffers 3 points of damage in the attempt)

Though his muscles strain and burn, and the shackles bite deep into his wrists, Jumrak is unable to rip his way to freedom. “These godless slavers will pay for their actions!” he utters.

Kronic looks at his fellow slaves and notes Cobb’s success. The shackles are slightly loose around his wrists; perhaps Kronic can slip free too?

(Kronic attempts to turn his ‘pint-sized’ flaw to his advantage by making a DC 25 Agility check to slip out of his shackles. Roll is 11 + 8 = 19. No go.)

Kronic may be short, but he’s big-boned. His hands are just too large. Like Jumrak, he now decides to try to ‘brute force’ approach…

(DC 25 Strength check; roll is 3 + 10 = 13. Again, no luck. He suffers 2 points of damage.)

The thick steel thwarts Kronic. Exhausted, he slumps to his knees, the thirst for vengeance still burning within him.

Meanwhile, Thrakazog attunes himself to his surroundings as best as he can in an effort to prepare for whatever may happen in the next short while. The lack of any significant light source has rendered him nearly blind, but having grown up with this condition he has compensated with greater dark-sensitivity from his other senses — most notably his keen nose.

Thrak turns his attention to his shackles – both at the wrist and at the wall – to check for any signs of imperfection that may yield an exploitable weakness. The chains extending from each of his arms are crudely bolted directly into the crumbling concrete wall. These bolts are the weakest point of the whole system.

Noting the failure of Jumrak and Kronic’s unsupported attempts, Thrak quietly suggests to Cormac and Vash (who are chained adjacent to him) that if they all would tackle the wall studs that secures his own chains, their combined strength would stand a better chance of severing the connection.

(Cormac and Vash make ‘Aid Another’ attempts to help Thrak. DC 15 Strength check; rolls are 9 – 1 = 8 and 4 + 0 = 4.)

Cormac seems to ignore the request, but Vash reaches in and awkwardly tries to assist.

(Thrak’s DC 25 Strength check is 16 + 9 = 25. Success! Thrak suffers 4 points of damage – ouch!)

Grunting and panting, Thrak ignores the pain as the shackles rip into his wrists, and strains himself to the uttermost. Finally, just before his will ebbs, the bolts rip from the wall with a loud ‘POP!’, and Thrak staggers forward – free, and armed with chains as improvised weapons!

The guards spin to face you. They are surprised, and Cobb and Thrak have a chance to make it to the doorway before they can react. What are your actions?

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~ by K-Slacker on 30-Apr-07.

5 Responses to “03 – The Taste of Freedom”

  1. Thrakazog staggers forward – free, and armed with chains as improvised weapons! He quickly recovers his balance and smiles grimly to himself as the startled guards suddenly seem smaller than they did when last they swaggered through the doorway. Thrak looks forward to taking his revenge for the unkind and unwelcome confinement that has been forced on him. On all of them.

    Still, he is not so brutish as to run screaming toward two armed guards, himself armed with nothing more than a length of chain and an unseemly amount of blood-lust, however righteous. He notes at least one other of his nearby comrades has managed to free himself from his restraints (and a good deal more quietly than Thrak was able to!), which evens up the odds a little bit. To take advantage of whatever surprise remains to them, action must be swift and sure… and hopefully a little unexpected.

    Even though he was shackled to the wall, there are many fellow prisoners here left to wallow in their listlessness, free of constraints by dint of their perceived reduced threat level (and perhaps a shortage of chains to go around). Thrakazog means to show the slavers the error of their ways in letting so many roam free — for where there may be a general willingness to be confined while hope remains elusive, it is frequently the case – especially in these hard, unforgiving times – that the merest sliver of hope will spark a flame under nearly all survivors and unleash a torrent of potential under the promise of freedom.

    To this end, Thrak intends to make of himself a rather unavoidable distraction. Expecting (well, hoping) that his newly freed companion will follow his lead, Thrakazog attempts to stir the dormant rebellion that sits thick in the slave pen like a choking miasma. How can four walls possibly contain it?! He swings the heavy chains above his head, ignoring the pain that flames in his wrists. He knows the spectacle he makes, his nearly eight-foot frame glowing with an apparently contaminated nimbus. He trots toward the guards, bellowing at the top of his lungs in Unislang, “Come, my fellow free men! Would you be made slaves and die in bondage?! RISE UP!! We are many, and they are few! Take your REVENGE!”

    So saying as he runs, the rest of his plan consists of lashing out at one guard with the whirling chain, and throwing himself bodily into the other. With any luck, the resulting mess can be sorted out by Cobb and whatever souls find it in them to fight for their freedom. Thrak only hopes to find himself on the surviving end of the melee. But whatever… he’d rather choose to die in this than be sold into slavery.

  2. Cobb winces at the sound of the large mutant bellowing, having preferred stealth, but quickly realizes his intent and scans the group to see who else is loose or on their feet trying to become so. With no sig of any others yet freed from their chains, Cobb races off in the wake of Thrakazog, mindful of his twirling chain, to attack whichever guard he leaves standing.

    It was at times like these that he was glad he had sharp teeth and the unsettling pallor of a walking corpse. With a vicious, toothy snarl, he leaps forth trying to seem as ravenous and intimidating as he can.

  3. Well; we’ve got actions for the two ‘free’ characters. I’ll probably only wait for a day before the next post, unless I hear differently from the other PCs…

    We haven’t heard anything from Cormac yet. Unless I get a comment from him in the near future, I recommend other players (or lurkers on the blog – I know you’re there!) post for him.

  4. As painful as it might be, I will give another try at freeing myself of these chains. I have had my share of long, painful experiences and I hope to come through this one just as the others, with the blessing of the gods. I will ask my freed comrades to assist me, so that I can contribute to the uprising.

  5. In the compound, all hell had broken loose.

    Pained moans, angry shouts, and blood-curdling war cries resounded throughout the small rooms of the slaver compound. It was loud enough to wake the dead.

    Vash was still chained to the wall – his thin arms suspended above his head – and he wasn’t going anywhere soon.

    The burly mutant next to him – the one who glowed with his own personal luminescence – had ripped himself free from the manacles that held him restrained. One moment the mutie’s grunting that needs someone to yank on his chains to provide tension, as though Vash were some kind of hulking freak himself, and the next moment there’s the showers of dust and shrieks of metal from the man-tank next to him.

    The behemoth was already on his feet and whirling his chains around his head like whips – all the while advancing quickly to the center of the room.

    Vash was sure as hell happy the mutie wasn’t pissed with him. Otherwise, it would have gotten ugly.

    The white-one had slipped out of his shackles too, but, he’d been much less dramatic about it. In seeming repayment, the white-one advanced upon the slaver-captors, smiling wickedly.

    A shout blasted in his ear, “FOR STALA!”

    The grungy vagrant next to him was straining against his bonds, the rusty manacles ripping through ripping throught the raw and bleeding tendons of his arms, while blood dripped, nearly black in the poor light, onto the floor.

    Vash didn’t know the prisoner’s name – it started with a ‘J’ – but, he know that he could aid the escape effort. Vash had to work quickly before they all wound up dead.

    “Listen, J. I can help get you free, but, you’ve got to try and get me out of here too – alright?”

    J nodded in understanding.

    “Excellent. Now, the way you’re straining – it’s wrong. Your cuffs have stress fractures all up and down their left side. If you lean your weight over to your left side and push – you should be able to break them” [Useful Trivia ability activated]

    “I know. Looking at those damn shackles is all I’ve been able to do for a couple of days”, Vash finished bitterly.

    He hoped that this would work….

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