When their "banquet" was delivered, Kurok grinned and told the others, "The taste of this stuff leaves everything ta be desired, but it will keep ya alive. And I fergot to tell ya ta just tilt yer head back and open yer mouth fer the water. It be the only way ta get enuff o' the stuff in yer mouth ta wash out most o' the taste of dinner." He makes a wry face, half smiling.

Kurok began to scrootch his stocky frame to a spot near the center of the cage, putting what distance he could between him and any of the bars. Facing their orcish audience, he spoke first, in almost a whisper, to those of the party nearest to him in Khordish as he moved, "Get ready. Gonna try for a reaction, get one of 'em ta open the gate."

---

To the orcs, speaking Orc, he says, "Ya gupes watching sommpin' intrestin'? One o' ya's got globes enuff ta maybe come closer ta the freak show? T'inkin' not, cuz I knows there ain't a globe or two on the bunch o' ya's! And I knows ya's can't kill us ta get it, 'er ya's arreddy woulda, tohk? (no?) Shame, too! What ya's missed, and what I still gots, might be worth havin', tohk? Could mean rich and could mean power. Butcha not gettin' nuttin' fer nuttin'. Gonna break my chains here an' take on who o' ya's come ta get it. Got my gonna-do. What's ya's sayin'?"

Kurok then falls silent, his unmistakably taunting grimace showing a mouthful of broken or misplaced teeth, and unadulterated laugther sparkling in his eyes along with the firelight. He looks neither right nor left, but directly at the orc group outside the bars, blinking seldom but quickly. Then suddenly, although still grimacing in humor and sarcasm, his face takes on a pained look of intense concentration, eyes narrowing and brow furrowing deeply. The muscles beneath his armor become taut and bulge with power. Corded tendons in his neck show, along with the veins pumping the blood to his now-straining arms as he now seeks to break the chains. They want a show to watch, do they? By the crushing Hand of Kharox, he'll give them one! He -- -- has -- -- had -- -- ENOUGH !!

[[ Raw attempt to break the chains with brute strength. If he can feel them give, even a little, he will not rage. If they don't seem to give, THAT will anger him enough to trigger it, but he will have already set his goal on breaking the chains, then going for the bars to bend them if he rages. Whatever happens after that, it's all about getting to the orcs and ripping their throats out, one by one, even if he fails. If he fails, and the rage subsides or is quelled, he'll go into a deeply-frustrated funk, but satisfied that he had given it his best shot ... ]]

Watching Kurok as he swelled and strained against his bondfs, the Khord could only edge him on, a boost in morale was what they desperately needed at the moment.

"At a boy, give em bonds a squeeze like a greenskin's neck aye. Heave and pull till they snap like an orc's spine, and have at the bars like an ogre's tiny pecker ya!"

Thondrek kept uttering bolstering remakrs for the Chak while insulting their captors, hoping to encourage either Kurok's freedom or the opening of the cage.

In the event that they open said cage, Thondrek will utter the word 'flash' in Cidal, invoking a flare (no somatic component) at the first creature to enter the cage as one of his freebie 0 level spells remaining. (that makes 4 total) Hoping to blind or dazzle him as it were, to better allow his companions a chance to break free and escape.

Goblin Encampment
The Chakran Mnts
18th day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
9:02 am
Perhaps it was the stares of the orcs, or perhaps it was being fed up with the chains around him that set Kurok into a fit of anger. It started with name-calling, something that only brought grins and laughter from the orcish spectators. But urged on by Thondrek, the barbarian captive started pulling at his chains.
When his bonds were not ready to give in, Kurok’s angry words turned into a screaming rage that made some of the orcs stand up in amazement. Kurok himself got on his feet, muscles bulging. The links in the chains stood tight now, as rage was surging through Khordish veins.
The orcs started cheering Kurok on, but the four goblin guards tried to calm them down, eyeing the cage nervously. They did not oblige to the demands for caution, and rooted louder and louder. More orcs and goblins came to watch, and started to cheer at the attempt to escape.

With a mighty battle cry, Kurok pulled at his chains with all his might. Then, finally, one of the links broke, and his hands were free. For a moment the crowd went quiet, then roared louder than before. The orcs that had initially sat down to watch the cage were now head butting and chest bumping in excitement, knocking over goblins as they went. Kurok went ahead and used his anger to rip off his ankle-bonds as well. But he found a halt at the bars of the cage they were in. As soon as he approached, he found two spearpoints coming his way as guards approached.
The crowd went suddenly silent, but it was not the guards prodding that caused it. An old goblin with a furry cloak with a high pointy hood came walking towards the cage, and the other goblins and even the orcs parted to let him pass. A crooked staff supported the old goblin, three dead rats and a live raven topping the ancient wood. A boney finger was pointed at the cave and he raspily crowed in the goblin tongue: “I need four more guards on that cage, and this ruckus is ending now.”

He was not mad, upset or even frightening, but the crowds quieted, and more than one goblin went on his business again. Four goblins grabbed spears from a nearby tent and hurried to join the ones that were already keeping Kurok away from the bars of the cage. The old goblin spent three seconds of his gaze on the captives, then left again.

(OOC: I don't know what you guys plan to do, or what Kurok's plan was exactly. If he wants to kill himself on the spears of the goblins, then he can do that. I would advice differently.)

]
Elessarae did her best to choke down the gruesome gruel, she knew she and the others needed their strength and to rest in order to regain spells to cast healing. In no way were they ready to escape.

From the moment of her testing to be named a Bladesinger, Elessarae's life had become one major life-threatening incident after the other. In the last few weeks she felt overwhelmed by the situations of the MAOUS and the infected trees and lacking the experience to handle the situations as they unfolded, but she had to preserver, it was that or die. Elessarae would not allow the deaths of hundreds of Syls to be the fate of her failure.

What was to be a simple journey to join this group and scout out the Goblins in the Chakran Mts. had become an epic journey, so much so that her name had reached far to the north before her, and her portrait was being painted by an artist at Runya Nost. She had already seen so much death, since leaving Megilindar a few weeks ago, to last the common Syl a lifetime, but then Bladesingers were not common, they were the elite warriors of the Sylvari, knights by human standards.

After gagging down the gruel, Elessarae set the bowl at the edge of the cage, and planned to rest and recoup her spells. That was until the Chakran Khord decided to act.

Kurok began to scrootch his stocky frame to a spot near the center of the cage, putting what distance he could between him and any of the bars. Facing their orcish audience, he spoke first, in almost a whisper, to those of the party nearest to him in Khordish as he moved, "Get ready. Gonna try for a reaction, get one of 'em ta open the gate."

Before Elessarae could speak any words to the wise, he launched into his tirade.
________________________________________

To the orcs, speaking Orc, he says, "Ya gupes watching sommpin' intrestin'? One o' ya's got globes enuff ta maybe come closer ta the freak show? T'inkin' not, cuz I knows there ain't a globe or two on the bunch o' ya's! And I knows ya's can't kill us ta get it, 'er ya's arreddy woulda, tohk? (no?) Shame, too! What ya's missed, and what I still gots, might be worth havin', tohk? Could mean rich and could mean power. Butcha not gettin' nuttin' fer nuttin'. Gonna break my chains here an' take on who o' ya's come ta get it. Got my gonna-do. What's ya's sayin'?"

Kurok then falls silent, his unmistakably taunting grimace showing a mouthful of broken or misplaced teeth, and unadulterated laugther sparkling in his eyes along with the firelight. He looks neither right nor left, but directly at the orc group outside the bars, blinking seldom but quickly. Then suddenly, although still grimacing in humor and sarcasm, his face takes on a pained look of intense concentration, eyes narrowing and brow furrowing deeply. The muscles beneath his armor become taut and bulge with power. Corded tendons in his neck show, along with the veins pumping the blood to his now-straining arms as he now seeks to break the chains. They want a show to watch, do they? By the crushing Hand of Kharox, he'll give them one! He -- -- has -- -- had -- -- ENOUGH !!

Thondrek added his own support, "At a boy, give em bonds a squeeze like a green skin’s neck aye. Heave and pull till they snap like an Orc’s spine, and have at the bars like an ogre's tiny pecker ya!"

Elessarae grimaced, this was not the time for this display and all she could see was that it was going to cause more trouble for them.

With a mighty battle cry, Kurok pulled at his chains with all his might. Then, finally, one of the links broke, and his hands were free. For a moment, the crowd went quiet, and then roared louder than before. The Orcs that had initially sat down to watch the cage were now head butting and chest bumping in excitement, knocking over goblins as they went. Kurok went ahead and used his anger to rip off his ankle-bonds as well. However, he found a halt at the bars of the cage they were in. As soon as he approached, he found two spear points coming his way as guards approached.
The crowd went suddenly silent, but it was not the guards prodding that caused it. An old goblin with a furry cloak with a high pointy hood came walking towards the cage, and the other goblins and even the Orcs parted to let him pass. A crooked staff supported the old goblin, three dead rats and a live raven topping the ancient wood. A boney finger was pointed at the cave and he raspily crowed in the goblin tongue: “I need four more guards on that cage, and this ruckus is ending now.”

He was not mad, upset or even frightening, but the crowds quieted, and more than one goblin went on his business again. Four goblins grabbed spears from a nearby tent and hurried to join the ones that were already keeping Kurok away from the bars of the cage. The old goblin spent three seconds of his gaze on the captives, and then left again.

Elessarae did her best to put on the air of being cowed as the tiny goblin shaman appeared, doing a make one with the floor of the cage.

“Sit down!” she hissed after the shaman had gone. “Ill timed,” she whispered, “we need to heal up. Now you have added to the problem.”

As Kurok strained against the chains, he could feel no give, no weakness in the links. But he had committed himself to this action and so strained all the harder. When he heard Thondrek add his cheering, goading litany to his efforts, enthusiastically egging Kurok on, a hope brightened in Kurok's mind. This Khord has the right of it! If you can't do, encourage!

But the chains still held. And Kurok let go. Standing, he let himself be carried into, and by, the unfocused rage he called forth. Uncontrollable as it was, it was still useful at times. And this time, he would show them, for sure and for certain, what a Khord -- a Chak! -- was capable of when bound and thought beaten! Through the tunnel-vision produced by his oncoming battle-frenzy he could see that even the orcs were "getting into" his attempt, but whether they were impressed or making fun of him, he wasn't sure. The crowd utside the cage became larger as more, orcs and goblins alike, came to see what the disturbance was all about. Dimly, somewhere amongst the encouragement of Thondrek and the cheering and gnashing of the orcs and goblins, Kurok could hear his own protracted scream. It started low and straining, but with his encreased strength and effort, it became almost a screech, a taunt, a call to enemies to come and be his fodder.

A link snapped. Elation! Twisting his arms and hands, Kurok loosed the chains on his wrists. Now the only sound was his raging screams as he reached down to take hold of a wrap of chains on his ankles and snap that bond, "Almost as easily as snapping a goblins neck", came the thought. Stamping his feet and twisting his ankles a bit, Kurok was now free! And the "audience cheered!"

As he took a decisive, threatening step toward the bars of the cage, though, he was stopped by the spear-points of the goblin guards. Although still in the throws of his madness, he was not suicidal. Not yet. He stopped, furiously fighting within himself to quell the madness that he had called upon. With the usual difficulty, good common sense won out, and the rage subsided, leaving Kurok standing a bit wobbly and trembling, his chin on his chest. Not in defeat, for his face still showed the taunting humor he had begun with. But mixed with that humor was a glad weariness, as if suddenly ending a frantic run for one's life and being able to stop in complete safety.

As he stood trembling, an ancient-looking goblin approached, the crowd parting before him like villagers before a dragon. He looked to be a shaman of sorts, from Kurok's view. But this, he knew, was the power-man here. A leader if not the leader. Bootskull? Still with head on chest and looking upward, out from under his bushy eyebrows, Kurok would have bet his left hand that it was.

“I need four more guards on that cage, and this ruckus is ending now.”
The shaman paused briefly, only seconds, to stare with contempt at the occupants of the cage. Noting this, Kurok snapped his head up and stared back at the old goblin with as much teasing contempt as he could muster until the creature left. By then, most of the "audience" had dispersed, some hurriedly, as if they had some other duty to attend to suddenly.

When the shaman had left, the elven woman whispered fervently, “Sit down! Ill timed. We need to heal up. Now you have added to the problem.”
Kurok looked at her with uncharacteristic calmness and a very large smile, as if inordinately pleased with himself.

"No, thankee, missy. Think I'll stand fer a while longer. I found out more than I'd hoped for. Didn't get the react I wanted, but I got the head-hoople-man out here. Now I know who Bootskull is. And I know where our gear and weapons're at."

Then he turned to survey the camp, looking as if he was seeing it for the first time, or as if he was not a prisoner, but the ruler here ...

Elessarae goes back to resting and whispers to Geim to do the same to regain his spells. Once he has them and if he needs to cover his casting of them, she will tell him to let her know and she will sing to cover the chanting. She could put all her spells into healing, even the flying creature needed to be healed. She would keep daze, flare, mage hand,and maybe animate rope is as.

Before she, hopefully, sleeps she looks to Kurok. "First, we must be healed up before we can do anything, so wait for a signal. Tell me, when is their most active time?" It would be best to catch them when they least expected it.

If they could only get back to 4 guards it would be of a help, she could daze one early on and the try to lure them into the cage. She was thinking of throwing her voice and pretending to be one of the goblins and spot a gold coin in the cage. That just might get them to open the cage and come in. Then she could flare one, and they could use the ropes that tied them and use them as garrotes and that would keep the goblins from yelling for help. It was difficult to yell when your throat's being crushed.

Thondrek could use his dimension hop to get behind one and throttle one of them.

Before she goes to sleep she shares her ideas with the others.

Back post to before Kurok breaking his chains.

"Ohhhhh OWwww Uuuuuh,"Geim moans and groans pitifully hoping his friends while come over to help him. He has spells left and he can dump them all for healing.

"Och, I hurt so bad." he wails raggedy. Then in a softer woice, "Get the others to help ye out I will heal all I can."

Geim plans to use his Cure Critcals on Elessarae and Malius, then Cure Moderate on Loda, and Thondrek, and whenever else he has on Draven and himself. He saves one for the winged creature still on the floor. However it is a fight to maintain concentration so he can cast Kharox's divine spells. He is hurt, but he has suffered worse before and so he toughs it out.

"Kharox, it would be mighty fine if you help my healing spells just a bit more that usual to help us out. Seeing as how we are in the midst of goblins and a lot of other nasties.

After spending all his healing Geim turns towards the strangely colored Khord in their midst, chained solidly to the cage they were all in.

"You say you're Chak, do ye?" he whispers, "I am Geimedahfer, Cleric of Kharox. Most call me Geim. I'd shake you hand, but you are a bit tied up for sure."

If needed, Elessarae will sing lowly to cover Geim's intonation of his healing spells. While openly trying to comfort him by patting him on the shoulder with her head, and commiserating with him that this was no trip for a scholar and a bard.

{answer to back-post]
"Geim, eh? Well met, Geim! Name's Kurok, meself. A worshipper of Kharox, are ya? Only met one other like ya, and that was quite a few years ago. There's hope for Khords if'n they got men like ya to carry on the faith for us. And, yep, I'm Chak. And I'm Khord. But she who birthed me made sure that I kept the pride in my Chakrandrum heritage. Even tho' I'm not a blooded Chakrandrum, I look different enough to be able to claim it, too, even tho' sometimes it causes me a bit o grief. We got lots ta talk about, you and I. But I think that until we give up, now is not the time to do it. And I ain't givin' up yet!"

---

[Moving on ... ]
"Active time? Wahhhlll, Miss Elessa, ma'am, they're most active early morning' or early evenin', when they head out on their forays ta do what they done ta us, or when they come back from it. They're less active at Night's Height, when the night raids are out and before they come back. But there's always some activity 'er sompthin' goin' on most times between. The camp's never dead or sleepy, ya know?"

Kurok stands watching for a bit longer while the others settle in. The fire in his blood had physically drained him, but left his clarity of thought morning-sharp in the aftermath -- at least for a while. For that brief period, and until he decided to sit and prop himself against the bars, he amused himself by trying to catch the eye or eyes of one or more of the cage's guards to give them the benefit of a taunting stare or snaggle-toothed grin.

Goblin Encampment
The Chakran Mnts
18th day of the 8th month: Temoth Ore
9:12 pm
After Kurok’s outburst, things settled down a bit in the camp. The orcs once more sat down, though now seven of them remained, silently inspecting and evaluating them. Their spirits were uplifted, and glee ran free on their faces. They were definitively looking forward to something.

When Geim started his chanting, masked by Elessarae’s singing, more than a few guards turned at the sounds that suddenly flowed from the cage. They were unaccustomed to the low Khordaldrum tones and the higher, edgy melodies of the Sylvarian Bladesingers. It made them nervous. More nervous than they already were. They eyed each other, eyed the cage, but did not dare move. But when Geim had finished his first healing spell (cure serious on Malius, since he doesn’t have cure critical yet), one of them realized what had just happened. The guard’s eyes went wide first, than he started shouting something in draconic tongue (for those who understand this language: “Magic! They’re using the power to heal wounds!”). He turned and broke into a run. There was no doubt he was going to inform someone of higher rank about this. If he would get away, their plans for escape would surely fail!

But help came from an unexpected source. As soon as the goblin guard began its sprint, one of the orcs stood up and took a running jump. He caught the goblin by the legs and tackled him hard. They both landed in a cloud of dust, but the orc was up in no time, and kicked the goblin in the flank before dragging him to his feet. There was a short snarl or reprimand, and the goblin returned to his post. The orc found his way back to his fellows and sat down once more as if nothing had ever happened.

The healing continued inside the cage, under the watchful eyes of the orcs. Elessarae used two of her spells for healing, and when all was done, the companions were somewhat refreshed and healthier than before. But the discharge of so much clerical power had rendered Geimiedefher exhausted. Healing spells came with a toll, and it dragged hard on the Khord’s bones and muscles. He need to sleep. They all needed to rest, to restore more power and regain spells.
If the orcs had any sympathy for the encaged group, they were not likely to show it now. When they noticed the first of the companions fall into slumber, they sent two of them away, who soon returned with a set of drums and wooden clubs. It was their turn to treat the heroes to a taste of their musical skills… which were abominable. The drumplayer knew to keep a pace, but the other orcs slammed their clubs into the metal bars of the cage in a unrhythm that was SO out of beat that it was an art in itself. There would be no sleeping in quite a while.

But the drums and the healing had stirred up the strange creature in the corner of the cage. It was chipping and chirping at them now, as if trying to communicate with them. When they didn't understand it, it struggled and squeezed a choked "Where... I...?" out of its throat.

(OOC: hit points count is now as follows:
Thondrek: 19/61
Malius: 29/42
Geim: 20/64
Elessarae: 22/53
Draven: 11/42
Kurok: 24/91
Loda: 17/51

That is at least a little better than it was before. There is no way you’re going to fall asleep through the constant noise around you, and there is no indication that the orcs are going to stop their dance/music anytime soon.)

Malius throughout the newcomer Kuroks display of strength and foolishness had remained quiet searching for his two missing Ferrets.
Then there he had them, gladly yet alive, but for the moment they were not close urging them to be careful he felt for them to come to him. It was at about this time the ‘fuzzy one’ began to come awake and with a mangling of common showed to the Syl Ranger that it/she/he was not well versed in such. Moving slowly and without threat he moved to its side, placed a hand upon it and tried to connect with it using his animal empathy.

(OOC: OK lame post I know I hope after Monday, if I pass my EPA, I will be able to once again devote more time to writing better ones. Not sure if my Animal Empathy or my being a Ranger will help but who knows maybe I can connect to our friend.)

Elessarae would not let the fact that the healing had been noticed dishearten her, but she watched the proceedings with interest as the Orc stopped the Goblin from racing to tell some higher up that they had been using magic.

Strange, the guard had shouted out in Draconic, not goblin.

When the Orcs begin beating on the bars and the drum, Elessarae just sit there staring out at them. She was hoping the Goblin in the cave will take umbrage and send them away, but that was asking a great deal from Heren'salkya, whom the humans called Shinara, Goddess of Luck and Fortune and in their case good fortune. She made silent prayers, as she has done before in her recent extremities to all the Gods and Goddesses of the Light and the Good and in Here’salkya's case even those who were more neutral. She also adds a special prayer to Ona-Estelan, the God of the Hopeless, Lost and Needy.

She will take the time to test out the floor of the cage, the condition of the wood. When she seems to be stretching she will use her legs to press against the bars of the cage to test them.

WEll now, even though Kurok was free, and their winged friend had joined the concious, it mattered little for they were still trapped. They would need to wait apaprently till their 'new' entertainment value diminished, and they were to be sent wherever before reacting. Thondrek kept a Dimension hop ready just in case the opportunity presented himself for a quick escape, and a Flare was ready for a diversion or an opportunity to overwhelm a dazzled opponent and run if possible.

For now though, it was simply a waiting game. Thondrek moved scurrying across the cage towards the winged creature, his red beard bunched and filled with uncomfortable small debris which scratched his neck. "Aye, don't try and speak much, though it don't be fer lack of an audience. Long story short, we be cellmates, and lest yer wings can carry ye outta here, we're in fer tha long haul."

Elessarae heal what she ccould and then Geim took over using all his healing spells. . But the discharge of so much clerical power had rendered Geimiedefher exhausted. Healing spells came with a toll, and it dragged hard on the Khord’s bones and muscles. He ached and it wasn’t just form the beating he had taken or the injury. He head was muzzy as he finished the last of his healing spells. Luckily he had used the hightles t level spells first. He found it harder and harder to concentrate but the tough dwarf kept at it. He could barely keep his head up. Geim longed to rest but it was not to be

The orcs noticed the first of the companions fall into slumber, they sent two of them away, who soon returned with a set of drums and wooden clubs. It was their turn to treat the heroes to a taste of their musical skills--which were abominable. The drummer knew to keep a pace, but the other orcs slammed their clubs into the metal bars of the cage in a unrhythm that was so out of beat that it was an art in itself. There would be no sleeping in quite a while.

Geim, never-the-less, prayed to Kharox, clearly speaking those ancient words of worship to Kharox. Then he put down his head he tried to focus on the drumbeat which had a rhythm and ignore the bangs and bashes on the cage from the clubs of the orcs. He tried anyway. Ir was a matter of focus and concentration and he gave it all he had, He knew eventually he would sleep because at sometime he would be so deprived that all that noise would make no difference.

“Come on you old Khord.” he told himself “Just think of it like your mother’s lullaby when she sang you to sleep.

Takes her time to speak to each advising they wait until there was a lull in their captures watch, but to be ready just in case.

When she get to Kurok she speaks lowly, "Does the shaman has our gear?"