Kurok was still seething about his own capture when he saw yet another group of captives being brought into the goblin encampment. He knew better than to overtly watch the "grot khasturk" -- fresh meat -- as they entered the encampment. That would have gotten him another spear in the side from one or more of his guards. But watch he did, from under half-closed eyelids, his head turned slightly to one side, as if busy with thoughts of his own. He hoped that the sand-brained goblins would put at least one of them in a cell-cage near enough to him to be able to converse. That may be punishable, but Kurok was willing to take that risk. He was surprised when they were all put in the same cage as himself.

The "new ones" were unconscious when they arrived, but Kurok was able to take the gruel they were fed and push it down unconscious throats until some showed signs of reviving.

"Well, well! Back amongst the livin', are we, now? Name's Kurok. Don't talk for now. Ya need yer strength, It can't be all back yet, even after sleepin' fer two days an' nights. Yuh, two. Takes strength to talk. We can do that later. It don't take strength to think. We need to figger out how to get free, and get armed. And we should include the fuzzy one over there. Just brought him, or it, in earlier this night, and he -- it -- ain't awake yet. But it deserves the same chance we do."

He pauses briefly, and looks as if he is trying to decide whether or not to ask something. Then he nods and smiles, as if coming to a firm decision.

"I noticed a few Khordish amongst you lot. Wondered what had become of my race, the we could be so easily captured and subdued. When I re-create the Makaz-Kharl, I intended to show my race, my people, how to defend themselves. Chaks and Khords will never again be an easy target, for anyone, any race!"

The look of determination that appeared in his face as he fell silent showed that he hadn't given up, not yet. Not even in his, and their own, current situation.

The world erupted around Geim as he ran towards the others battling the Wyvern rider. Exactly what hit him as he ran across the meadow towards his friends he had no time to wonder about. He only had time to see them go down as the ground erupted around them. Whatever it was hit him hard and hurt hiim as well. He had brief moment to use the spell he had planned for Loda on himself as he fell.

Geim struggled to get up but he was overwhelmed by the goblin forces. Geim fought back from the ground with grim determination. HE was poing to take as many as he could though he didn't expect to live though this.

Pain means life and so it was that aGeim knew he was still alive. His body was a loud throbbing multitude of aches and pains. He gritted his teeth and they hurt too so he just laid there for a moment until he could think clearly. He could hardly see through lids that were virtually swollen shut. He tried to move after a bit buthis muscles did not want to respond.. SOme of them counldn't as he found out pretty quickly that his hands were bound tight.

"Kharox give me strength," he whispered, not sure where he was or who was around him. He still had his armor on but he was not on any grassy meadow it was a hard surface.

Awkwardly he managed to get himself seated mostly in an upright position and he squinted to try see who might be with him.

It was then he heard someone speaking but the ringing in his ears made it hard for him to understand. He started to shake his head to clear it but pain quickly stopped him from doing that almost as soon as he started it. Geim grunted

Geim tried to make out who was with him. The darkness and condition of his eyes made it hard for him to see any details but the blurry shapes of others close by.

"Loda, lass Thondrek? Malius lad? Elessarae? Who's here?"

Elessarae hurt as she stirred.

"Well, well! Back amongst the livin', are we, now? Name's Kurok. Don't talk for now. Ya need yer strength, It can't be all back yet, even after sleepin' fer two days an' nights. Yuh, two. Takes strength to talk. We can do that later. It don't take strength to think. We need to figger out how to get free, and get armed. And we should include the fuzzy one over there. Just brought him, or it, in earlier this night, and he -- it -- ain't awake yet. But it deserves the same chance we do."

He pauses briefly, and looks as if he is trying to decide whether or not to ask something. Then he nods and smiles, as if coming to a firm decision.

"I noticed a few Khordish amongst you lot. Wondered what had become of my race, that we could be so easily captured and subdued. When I re-create the Makaz-Kharl, I intended to show my race, my people, how to defend themselves. Chaks and Khords will never again be an easy target, for anyone, any race!"

The look of determination that appeared in his face as he fell silent showed that he hadn't given up, not yet. Not even in his, and their own, current situation.

Elessarae heard this and knew she was alive, painfully alive. Then she opened her eyes and looked carefully around.

It was still night, or night again, and they found themselves in a metal cage. Their hands were bound by thick ropes, their eyes blurry with pain. Beyond the bars of the cage, the night was only broken by a big fire that danced somewhere behind a sea of tents. Around the cage stood more tents, barrels, and racks with weapons and shields. Dark shadows moved everywhere around them, and grunts and harsh laughter reverberated damply through the fields; they were in the goblin encampment. The cage they were sitting or lying in had wooden wheels, and only a single door with an intricate lock. On every corner of the cage stood a goblin sentinel, weathered and alert. But aside from the goblins, they were not alone in the cage. There were two others, one a Khordaldrum male, the other a strange humanoid with leathery wings and brown hair. The Khord was awake, but the other lay distorted and broken in a corner.

She then looked up at the Khord who spoke. No,, as her dulled mind just now comprehended the Kh----Chak’s words in designating himself.

Elessarae nods to the Chak, accepting his pronouncement of a fabled existence with no reaction at this time and then turns to her comrades to check on each of them.

"Loda, lass Thondrek? Malius lad? Elessarae? Who's here?"
She heard Geim speak.

"Elessarae, here," she whispers.

Whoever is close enough Elessarae will lay down behind then an gnaw on their ropes.

The voice again, speaking this time with a definitely Khordish accent, "I didn't get a name from ya, lad, but by Kharox's Beard!, it's good ta hear ya're keepin' his faith alive! 'Lessaray, girl, are ya a healer?. Handy, that could be. Now if'n any o' ya's need help, jus' ask. I'll do what I can. Now that some o' ya's are awake, they'll start bringing more of that gooey porridge 'n patata stuff for ya's. Well, they will when they think of it, anyway. Tastes like bear dung, but it'll keep ya alive. Been feedin' ya's all some o' mine for a coupla days. Hau-dahk noune! [[roughly = Mercy me!]] More talkin' than I done for nearly a month. But I got sommat ta tell ya's when alla ya's're awake and kinda alert."

When your eyes focus and adjust to the flickering of the bonfire, you see an avereage-sized Khord, but with a not-so-average appearance. Where most Khordish were of dark complexion, including dark hair and beards, this one had a lighter, almost ruddy-tan skin color with light red hair and beard done in a multitude of small braids that were tied with either black cord or silver wire. But the eyes! Where light or dark brown or even black eyes were standard for the Khordish, this one had deep blue eyes. All in all, not the typical Khordish appearance in the least.

He is wearing hide armor, but of a quality seldom seen. On the breastplate is an embossed, quasi-geometric design, almost tribal in nature. The visible stitching was fine and tight, the buckles and fasteners were of fine-grade, satin-finished steel. Red dye had been rubbed deep into the darkened leather, giving it blood-colored highlights in the glow from the fire. Where the others were bound wrist and ankle with ropes, his extremities were wrapped in chains.

Malius slowly came back to awareness his body raked in pain the lower part of his body covered in his own blood. As he slowly sat up he could feel tightness in various parts of his body and knew he had been bandaged by someone. His eyes finally open fully he at once took in his surroundings and realized for the first time that he along with the others was imprisoned.

Imprisoned? what the dark hells was going on when did gobbies take prisioners. Something was way off here but as to what that something was the Syl Ranger was yet at a loss.

"Loda, lass Thondrek? Malius lad? Elessarae? Who's here?" Geim’s voice came from the other side of the cell then an answer from Elessarae.

"Elessarae, here," He heard her whisper

“I live but do not know why as Gobbies normally do not take prisoners.”

It was here that a new voice broke into the cell bringing with it the knowledge that Malius and his group were not the only captives here.

"Well, well! Back amongst the livin', are we, now? Name's Kurok. Don't talk for now. Ya need yer strength, It can't be all back yet, even after sleepin' fer two days an' nights. Yuh, two. Takes strength to talk. We can do that later. It don't take strength to think. We need to figger out how to get free, and get armed. And we should include the fuzzy one over there. Just brought him, or it, in earlier this night, and he -- it -- ain't awake yet. But it deserves the same chance we do. I noticed a few Khordish amongst you lot. Wondered what had become of my race, the we could be so easily captured and subdued. When I re-create the Makaz-Kharl, I intended to show my race, my people, how to defend themselves. Chaks and Khords will never again be an easy target, for anyone, any race!"

Not replying, letting someone else do so, Malius remained quiet and tried to get a better look at this ‘fuzzy one’. With all the strange mutated creatures they had so far encountered it did not hurt to make sure this new ‘fuzzy one’ was not such.........

Lodas eyes opened into a world of hard blackness. She felt her head propped up against something, her face basically mashed into the corner of the cage. She rolled over and sat up with a stiff neck, only to see another kord that was not one of them talking. She caught about half of what he had said, and her eyes quickly adjusted as she leaned up against the cage bars. Her long braide black and greyish beard and hair was a mess, and she would have to fix it later. one thing she really needed now was a drink. She struggled against the restraints and looked at the fuzzy thing in the corner. Loda sat up straight and looked at the Khord with many braids, and gave a half smile and nod to him, her self still trying to recover from the days events.

Elessarae whispers lowly, using her bardic talent so as not to draw the goblin guards' attentions. "Lay behind who is close and gnaw their ropes."

Goblin Encampment
The Chakran Mnts
17th day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
10:27 pm
Their will to fight returned with their consciousness. Bound hands made it hard to get up, even though they were desperate to take in their surroundings. A short inspection told them they were all still alive and present, except for Alyssia and, as Loda found out, Gothard. They had been graced with two fellow captives, one of which strikingly resembled features as they were described on Chakrandrum. But could it be? Perhaps a far descendant? It was the least of their worries now.

They were bound, and bonds prevented hands from weaving magic. And without weapons, magic seemed the only way out of this cage. But as broken as their bodies felt, as groggy were their heads, and spells were not newly gracing their brains. What they had left were the few reserves they had not been able to wield in the fight against the hordes. A meager sum, but possibly helpful.

Whispering softly, Elessarae urged the others to gnaw on each others bonds. Those who obeyed had to bite through the horrid taste of the goblin ropes. It seemed they were drenched in blood and earwax, a sickening combination. But even the most persistent of them found that teeth would take a terribly long time to cut through the thick and well twisted rope. And the prisoner who had introduced himself as Kurok was bound in chains. It would take more than teeth to get him loose.

(OOC: In other words: it might work, but you’ll be gnawing for days maybe. If that’s what you want to do then that’s your decision. If others have a different plan, or maybe an addition to this, please post it. Also I would like to know what you’re planning on doing once your hands are free, so I can update a bit more at a time)

Once the futility of gnawing on the ropes became evident Elessarae started to work her hands in an attempt to get free. The Elven skeleton was finer and more supple than Khord or human. Elessarae even had practice, not only at the Meleglindar Nost but when she was young and her older brothers and cousins used to play Elves and Goblins. Because she was small she was almost always the goblin. They would stalk her and then tie her up. In time she learned some tricks to getting away. When she had first gone through training at the keep where the class was tied up and left to get free she was was the firstto do so.

Elessarae stays down as it would cover some of her movements. "Someone" she whispers again, "spit on my hands and wrist."

When that happens, Elessarae will curl her palm up tightly, tucking her thumb towards the center to narrow her palm to make it easier to pull her hands free of the ropes around her wrist. By staying on the floor, she can use the rough wooden surface and partly lay on her wrists to hold the rope around them in place while she pulls a hand free. She uses a strong steady pull so that it would be less evident.

She silently thanked the deities for being Elf and having a slender and flexible body, and her trainers at the Keep for having enhanced what nature had given her.

It took her a good part of the night, but after a long time of struggling, wriggling and stretching of muscles, Elessarae got one hand out of the knot. Quietly she celebrated her freedom by undoing her other hand as well. Now she was ready to release the bonds of the other captives. The knots proved tough, well placed and tightened securely, but her two able hands had her companions loose before the first sunrays.

The sky was already colouring light blue, but in between the mountains, day was a long way from breaking. The goblins guarding the barred wagon had not noticed the careful escape of bonds that had been going on. The campfires in the distance had reduced to embers, and activity in the camp had slowed down. Goblins and orcs still walked from tent to tent, but they weren't in such a rush.

When all were freed, except for Kurok who was bonded in chains, a pair of orcs walked by and suddenly halted. The goblin guards eyed each other carefully but did not say or do anything.
The two orcs stared at the wagon and its prisoners, and then mumbled something under their breath. One of them walked on, but the other one sat down on the floor and put its chin in its hands, peering at the prisoners with a daring smile.
Several minutes went by when the other orc came back, and brought five more orcish warriors with him. They all sat down, and stared at the group.

Once freed Elessarae would have used her Cure Moderate on heself and her Cure Light on whomever seemed the worst off, whispering the incantations.

As Elessarae untied each of her group, she left the ropes lightly tied on each person's off hand, so that they could quickly wrap the loose end around their primary hand in case someone came to check on their bindings. She tells each in whispers, that they could use the ropes as garrots.

Kurok smiled and nodded his head when he noticed that Elessarae had freed herself. As she worked on freeing the others, he would scrootch over to place his wide, squat body mass between her task and whatever guard or guards might glance hin their direction.

When they came to re-wrap their ankle bonds to make them look undisturbed, he simply grunted lowly, "Uh-uh! Not necessary.".

The gobby-lins would have figured them to use each others hands to free their legs, he thought. But then he also thought that if the applied to their legs, why not their hands? While one could not bend his or her wrists backward to get at their own bonds, another's fingers would be able to eventually be able to undo them. So maybe it didn't make a diference whether they openly kept their bonds or not. But better to err on the side of caution ... The fates were showing him still another example of the advantage of working together, as a group or part of a group, being able to count on the actions or efforts of others. Kurok knew that and had experienced it many time before, but he always had trouble remaining in group situations like that. He had been accuse of not acting fast enough or not acting at all, or he just rubbed too many people the wrong way. He was ingrained with the need for solitude and accountability to no one but himslf. Here, hee needed them. Even if he got loose, he could not take on the whole camp himself. They would kill him outright for even attempting it, for being a nuisance, an irritant, a thorn in their side.

He just wished -- yet again -- that he had not "gone raging" when he himself was overrun. He was satisfied with the number of the little, misshappen mistakes of nature he was able to take out when fighting for his freedom and before he was simply inundated. And the blow to the back of the head that ended his efforts did so abruptly. He imagined that the chains he wore were a reminder to him that they took his killing actions personally. He was far from being as supple as the elven woman, or even a human. And one couldn't gnaw through chain links. And there were no knots in the chains, just locks. And he couldn't even see those, for they were both on the underside of the bonds, effectively out of his reach.

The others could no sooner count themselves as nearly free when two orcs passin by the cage stopped, looked at each other. Then they both stared at the wagon-cage and muttered something.

[[ Kurok speaks/understands orc. Could he hear well enough to catch what they said? Hearing normal Listen @ +0 ]]

One of the two orcs moved away, leaving the other to stare at the captives with a knowing, expectant grin after sitting down and putting his chin in his hands as if he was watching some kind of entertainment. After a time, the other (another?) orc returned, accompanied by an additional five more of his kin, all warriors. All of them also sat and sared at the captives.

Kurok didn't like this. It smelled of entertainment. Were they to be the entertainment? An arena or pit battle? One-on-one or mass combat? If so, Kurok expected the odds to be stacked in the captors' favor. If not, it still didn't look good ...

Or then again, maybe it did. He would be able to show them once and for all what Chaks and Khords were about to become, what they were capable of ...

... Oh that's the sweet stuff. Deep amber with the scent of fired cedar, the richness of the vaults of Kharox and as delicious as the woman serving it. Look at those ruddy cheaks that forgefire hair, and good God the beard, oh how I'd like to get my fingers in there and...uggg nnnmmm Thondrek felt someonthing brush against him and it snapped him from his blissful reverie back to the unpleasant reality complete with the aches and pains which testified to the turn-out of the battle. They had not won, had not even escaped, and as he looked around to notice Elessarae subtly releasing the bonds of his companions, Thondrek's darkvision settled on those around the cage.

"urg..." He moaned, wanting to rub his sore body but unable to lest he give away his newfound freedom. He noticed a pair of other people-if one could be called a person-- in the cage with them, but chose to remain quiet, silently mulling over their chances of escape from this precarious situation.

Moments passed, and a pair of orc's became one, which soon after became a half dozen. add them to the four goblins posted, and the group was only slightly outnumbered, even less so if the strangers vied to help in the escape plan.

Thondrek looked at the Orc's that stared at him like some sort of ornament on display. My how he'd have liked to piss them off something fierce.

Using the metal bars of the cage to aid him, Thondrek get's his knees under him, still hunched but no longer letting his rump go numb. Plus, it would allow him to leap up if need be using his squat body as a weapon if it came to it. He had a few spells with no somatic components he could use, but it would be futile if even one of the enemy got away to call for reinforcements. As it stood, he'd have to wait with the others, though he noted the exit (s) in the room, and kept a dimension jump at the forfront of his mind, just in case he needed to make a quick escape, or provide a barrier to slow them down.

Loda looked around, and was delighted as her bonds were cut, but kept her hands behind her back, for obvious reasons. She sat there just looking inconspicous(sp?) and waiting for everyone to be released. She spoke out in Khordulum to anyone who could understand, and in a whisper incase one of the orcs are actually smart enough.

" Let's not try to do anythign right now. Let's wait till nightfall atleast, or until we have to show what has happened."

Goblin Encampment
The Chakran Mnts
18th day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
8:02 pm
Though the group of orcs was mostly quiet and observant, but every now and then wisps of words and phrases could perceived inside the cage. They were words of destruction and beating, killing and overpowering. The harsh language of the orcs was one as wicked as the race itself; grunts and guttural noise mixed with the grammar of the Sylvari speech. As the orcs spoke, even the captives that did not know their tongue recognized the reoccurring use of the term ‘Bootskull’.

When the day broke, the orcs remained seated. Every now and then one of them left, to be replaced by another.

An hour after the dawn claimed the Chakran Mountains, two goblins in ragged clothes came to the cage, carrying four bowls of a potato mush with insects and a slimy sauce to bring the flavor down to a level of acceptance. It smelled unpleasant, and the taste was even more revolting than its substance and texture. With it came a bucket of water, which was splashed over the captives rather than given to them. Kurok could tell the rest that now was the only time during the day that they were given anything to drink.

It was at the splashing of the cool liquid, which seemed to come from the icy streams of the mountains, that the strange creature in their cage stirred for the first time. It was humanoid, but the head was longer and completely bald, save for a small patch of rough, short hair on top of the slightly tanned scalp. Simple bindings of cloth covered its privates, and assuming it was somewhat human, the companions could guess that it was a male. He opened thick eyelids and peered at his surroundings groggily, and let out a serious of weak chirps. Then he bunched himself up in his corner as good as he could with bound hands.

(OOC: I didn’t know whether or not you had freed him or not.

Also, let’s do a short HP count:
Thondrek: 4/61
Malius: 6/42
Geim: 7/64
Elessarae: 8/53
Draven: 3/42
Kurok: 11/91
Loda: 5/51

That’s after Elessarae healed some of you. You have to remember that now the orcs are watching, healing will not be easy to do without anybody noticing.)