Afraid the remaining guard might bring more, Thiferl needed to silence him. With mace in hand he took a swing at the table leg, letting his compatriots finish off the guard once he hit the floor.

(Assuming someone gets the guard)

Then looks around at the doors into the warehouse to see if there is any movement there.

Argent dove into the fray. There was little he could do to prevent chaos, which was already spreading like a disease to their plans. So, he decided to roll with it.

He slammed his fist at the closest guard, but unfortunately, the man was quick to parry. Standing so close to the man he judged that a series of fast pummels would be most effective. He couldn't block the monk's blows forever.

(OOC: Switching to flurry of blows).

Daleel looked down and saw the slice through his armor. There wasn't much he could do about it now. The plan didn't work as well as it should have, but he had learned to expect such.

When he looked back up he noticed only one gaurd left. One guard that was making a lot of ruckus. He also noticed one of the dwarves making a move to smash the leg of the table. If it worked the remaining gaurd would fall right into the rest of the team. Daleel decided being there when he fell would be fun. He held out his sword and dashed forward.

(OOC:So I figure that what Daleel is trying to do is get there before/as the table leg breaks and deliver an upward slash as the remaining guard falls to the floor and into the middle of Daleel's comrads)

(All active players posted so I figured I would do the update a day early. Here ya go!)

The little halfling sprinted as fast as his legs could carryhim, sword in hand and a gleam in his eye that was remeniscent of another more savage halfling race. As he moved he saw the battle unfolding before him.

The guard stabbed out at the dwarf on the table making contact, but thanks to Argent's quick reflexes the guard managed only a glancing blow (2 hp damage).

Seeing what his brother meant to do, Argent moved to one side of the table, opposite the leg Thiferl was aiming for and began his attack. In a flurry of movement which was remarkable undwarflike (thought the guard), Argent lashed out first with a first. The left cross was easily dodged by the skilled guard, but not so the foot the followed it. The foot connected solidly with the man's face spinning him in a half circle just as Thiferl landed a crushing blow on the table leg.

The end of the table collapsed. Again the monk's reflexes saved him as he leapt to the side landing firmly on the ground as the gaurd went face first, the table flipping after him, towards the grinning halfling.

A slight grunt followed by a loud crash ended the battle. The gaurd falls solidly into the halflings blade, taking Daleel down to the ground under his weight. The moemntum of the fall flips the table on to both of them.

As the dust settles Thiferl looks up at the solid door to the office just in time to here the quick sound of metal against metal, as a small peep hole in the door closes. The door does not open however, and for the moment, nothing furhter seems to be coming.

The monk waited for a few moments to see if there were any more guards hidden or if there was movement from behind the door to the office.
Apparently the fight had been swift enough and now they had to face part two of their plan.

"We must act quickly before their friends show up." he stated, unnecessarily. "Or the city guards." he added.

So, he went about looking for either the goods they were to retrieve, or a hidden door to another room or level.

Rolling the guard off of Daleel, Thiferl helps the halfling to his feet. With his hands on him he mutters a prayer to Amon Atus (OOC: Replaces Cure Obscuring mist with Cure light wounds and casts it on Skit), and brushes the dirt off of the halfling.

"We must act quickly before their friends show up." Argent stated, unnecessarily. "Or the city guards." he added.

"Argent is right, I saw the peephole close on that door," Thiferl said pointing at the office door. "Whatever we're going to do, let's do it fast before we get more company. Does anybody see the triskele on any crates?"

Keeping his crossbow ready, and his eyes and ears open, should the need to fire arise Echario joined the dwarf in looking for the brand they were sent to find, or anything else that may be interesting or noteworthy. He checked crates and floor lines, knocking on crates to see if any were hollow, possibly dummy crates hiding a secret room or passage into another storage area.

Daleel stands there dazed for a few moments as the rest of the group scatters around the room in a frantic but relatively methodic search.

You find no crates on the floor level that bear the mark you seek. Nor did Daleel see any on the uppoer floor on his way in (which he quickly speaks once his head clears), though he only got a brief look and event hat only at half of the crates.

There is a locked cellar door in the corner of the room. The door is made of wood and iron, and seems very thick and sturdy. The lock seems well-made, and the hinges are not visible.

Thus far there is no sign of the arrival of more foes.

Staying alert and ready Echo makes his way over to the cellar door and waits until Daleel is able to get over and attempt to get them past the lock. He keeps his crossbow held ready, aimed at the door just in case something or someone on the other side is feeling less than hospitable.

It seemed indeed that they were waiting for Daleel to make an attempt at picking the lock. But so far, the little rogue seemed vacant minded enough to mistake an onion for a precious diamond.

"Oi, master halfling!" Argent urged, "What do you think about this lock over here? Any chance you can unravel it?"

If the halfling is too much out of it, the time has come for different measures. Perhaps their sorcerer had some form of opening the trapdoor? Argent was confident he and his brother would be more than capable of destroying the hatch in a few well aimed bashes. Still, doing so would draw even more attention to them. He kept it in mind as a last resort.

(OOC: If the halfling doesn't respond, and nobody else has any bright ideas, Argent will urge his brother to help him bash open the thing. I don't like that option, but if players disappear, what choice do we have?)

The cell which the mysterious silent half-orc was placed in was dry, and putridly hot during high moon, and extremely cold during the low cycle of the night. The abomination was alienated from the human prisoners, and he had no quarrels with such a scenario; he was not one who desired companionship. Or rather, he was one who had given up on finding such a thing long ago.

He sat cross-legged in the shadows, brooding alone in the darkness. His eyes were closed, the left permanently so: a large scar running from above his brown to his mid cheek vaguely explaining an encounter he had in years past. His protruding lower jaw barred tusk-like fangs that came from under his upper lip, his left fang’s tip went to about half way between his upper lip and nose while the right one was broken half way up. He had been told that he had small amounts of troll, giant, and ogre running in his veins. He had no idea if this was a truth and the fangs were the evidence of such heritage, or if it was simply a physical characteristic that just so happened to be with him. It mattered not, the humans and other ‘goodly’ races scoffed at his visage whenever he had encountered them, he was judged by his appearance and as such he was taught to survive alone.

Amidst the night the silence is disrupted. The half-orc opens his one good eye, he is able to see the humans even now due to his orc heritage. They did not hear anything, at least not at first. However, as the disturbance got louder, and thusly closer, the others started to rustle, wondering what the commotion was. Sighs of despair were blowing in the stagnant wind; they did not wish to be given to harsh masters. He did not care. He could easily escape once he had access to a few essentials. He was one with the desert, and no one would separate him from it for long. He would return to this city to complete his objective, and then he would return to paradise isle.

The branding on his left shoulder throbbed. It had been about a day since it had happened, but he still had sentimental pain, his pride had been damaged with such an abhorrent act. As soon as he could, he would remove it from his skin. Either acid or fire would work to remove the obvious sign of ownership. But that would come later. For now he would need to escape. Taking some of his ragged clothing, the half-orc slung it around his left shoulder and his right hip, making sure the brand would not be seen. If he were to be owned, the ones who had done it will need to force him to show the mark.

He looked at the woman cradling her new born infant. It was wrapped in the majority of his shirt, hence the rags that he now owned for attire. Of course, the new mother had no idea where the cloth came from, as it was always dark and no one had told her to take it. He knew that the child would need warmth, and his clothing was made for such a task. He did not feel any obligation to aid the feeble woman, indeed had she found out and refused, the half-orc would have rebuked her and cursed her infant to death. But he knew he could survive with less than he had, and her child would not. It was no bother, so he gave her what she would need.

The sounds got louder and louder. A squabble between guards? It mattered not. The half-orc closed his eye again. It was none of his business.

After exhausting the possibilities on this floor of the warehouse, the question of what lies beneath becomes more and more apperant. Skit must be standing guard as Thiferl and his brother hover over the looked cellar door.
Giving Argent a knowing look, he prepares to cast a spell.
While the Agamud brothers try for the most part to keep their respected noses clean, there were times in the past that were more challenging than others. These were times where it was morally justifiable, even under Amon Atus' eyes, to take from those who had more to feed and clothe those who had less, namely themselves. And while they weren't proud of what they have done, at least from the bragging-about-it-to-others point of view, they had learned a number of skills in their life that have helped alleviate the wealthy from their burdens.
Waiting for the nod from Argent that told Thiferl his brother was ready, Thiferl cast Icicle at the padlock, with icy and sudden results!

Since the halfling has, for some unknown reason, slipped into a coma, the dwarven brothers go to work on the lock and the door.

Thiferl prays for a moment under his breath while Argent brings himself to his center, focusing on his next strike. As Thiferl's prayer continues a sharp dagger of ice forms in the dry air. With a gesture he streaks through the air, striking the lock on the cellar door and leaving drops of water in its wake. Right on cue, only seconds after the icicle strikes Argent slams his fist into the lock.

The lock looks extremely damaged, but has not yet broken to the point that it could be easily removed.

You can hear the sounds of murmuring and voiced on the other side of the cellar door, even as the echoes of the tremendous blow fade into silence.

Another smash shatters the brittle lock. The door is unlatched and opened easily revealing a dimly lit room below. About a dozen sets of eyes stare up at you from the base of the stares...

(Argent makes a successful Perception check):
The triskell symbol looks to be tattooed on the left shoulder of every person held in this room.

While the dwarves may be able to see in the darkness below just fine Echo knew that the others, himself included, would have a harder time seeing down below. He cleared his mind and began the arcane motions and chants to cast the only spell he could to illuminate the room below. As he finished the spell 4 floating lights appeared in the room below, bathing the room below in light, revealing the multitude below.

Daleel dropped out of his daze. his plan hadn't worked out as he wanted. It did not involved getting squished by a full grown human. It was enough to put any self respecting halfling into a daze. At least in his mind.
He noticed everyone had gathered around the cellar door. Wondering what everyone was looking at he worked his way to the edge and looked down. People...slaves? They had to be. He noticed the symbol they were looking for on each persons arm. Well this isn't going to sit well with the others. "Well, this is interesting."

Daleel was worried about what was going to happen next. He wasn't for slavery himself, and it seemed as if some of the others were of the same opinion. This was a job though. They had to complete it. There would be consequences if they didn't. Wouldn't there? Perhaps they had this all wrong, maybe their employer was trying to save these people and couldn't do it himself. Not likely, but it was a thought. Well something had to be done.

"I don't suppose we have much time left to get the package out of here. Should some of us go down and see what we are dealing with?"

(OOC: so I am assuming these are slaves and our stolen "package". I guess one or two of us should go in the hole and talk to them to see what is going on and asses the best way to get them out of here.)