POW: The Song Has Come

[Rodi]

Water dripped down the sides of the cold stone. The smell of mildew filled the thin air. The dungeons were the only dark part of the ice castle. Rather than smooth white marble the walls were made of dark gray stone covered in slimy much. There were no windows, only a torch here and there for light. It was certainly not a pleasant place. Cold in spirit as well as texture.

Through the flickering shadows a figure swept. He was dressed in the royal blue and silver of the king’s guard. A simple fae glamour hid the scarlet of his hair and the garnet shine of his eyes. It hid his pointed ears and his white as death skin. Rodi, leader of the Song, looked completely ordinary to any who spied him. Only practice and the work of his partner gave him the information to do what he did next.

There would be two dungeon guards. One on the east side and one on the west. A simple letter stated that the commander had new orders for the east side guard and Rodi was to take his place. It was stamped with the commander’s seal. The guard could not go against his commanders orders even if they did seem strange; his shift was not supposed to end for a few hours yet. The seal was undeniable, however. The guard left, leaving Rodi alone with the west-side guard…

[Xaviere Arana]

There was no light down here. No fresh air, no notable sounds, no warmth; nothing much of anything pleasant, really. Confinement here should have been enough to crush the spark out of any Fae but, as it happened, the only Fae here right now (that she knew of anyway) was surprisingly at ease.

In fact if it wasn't for the whole being held against her will issue, she might have been okay about being here. This was not the first time she'd made an extended stay somewhere dark and uninhabitable.

No, her main problem was the boredom. There was only so much sleep one could catch up on, and only so many times one could pace the tiny concrete box they called a cell. The Fairy in question had taken to lying on floor on her side, head propped up and eyes directed at the blank concrete on the other side of her bars. Her pale form almost glowed down here, drenched in gloom and barely discernible torchlight, and her silver hair caught highlights of washed-out gold.

God, it was dull. But what could she expect? It was the price one paid for attempting to assassinate the King; as it happened, it was probably not a one-Fairy job. But if ever there was a creature with nothing to lose it was this one - Xaviere, most corrupt of the Fae - so she'd taken her chances and been thrown in the dungeons for her trouble. Presumably to await execution. It had been the damned bird that had saved the guy; a sickeningly rainbow creature with some misplaced loyalty to its master.

She'd not expected any relief from the mind-numbing monotony any time soon, but rather to her surprise the prisoner heard the exchange quite clearly between the guards.

Now, when one had been rotting in the same hellish cell for around a month at her last count, one got to know the patterns. Xaviere knew perfectly well that the guards were not supposed to change for hours. So why the sudden change? Did it mean her execution had been scheduled, and was soon?

The Fairy climbed gracefully to her feet, shaking off the stiffness of long hours in the cold. She could see the new guard from her cell, and it looked as though only one had been changed. More importantly he was one that did not normally frequent the place. How odd. However despite the fact that the Fairy interpreted this to mean that her end might be finally arriving, it was with faultless confidence and more than a little allure that she sauntered over to the bars of her cell, the thin grey spider-silk doing little to cover, well, anything.

"Something finally about to happen, is it? About goddamn time, I'm wasting away from sheer boredom over here." The Fairy leaned against the bars, her blue-grey gaze fixed on the newcomer. She fully expected to be ignored as she usually was when she attempted to interact with the guards, but it was worth a try right? Anything was better than staring at that wall for another month.

OoC
Not sure if this is actually an open thread. Lemme know if it isn't, I'll just delete the post XD

[Rodi]

There were eleven prisoners in the dungeon. One shapeshifter. Four fae. Three humans. Three daemons. Only three of those prisoners were prisoners of war. Two fae plus the shapeshifter. One of the fae creatures looked badly injured. The other? She seemed…feisty. Rodi hid a smile as she spoke to him and ignored her. There would be time for talk at a later time.

First target. A male spirit elf by the name of Lotus. Heavily injured. Survival looked grim. Cracked skull, both arms broken, heavy blood loss from a knife wound in his back, three broken ribs, severed right leg from the knee down, missing left eye, and a nasty flu. Second target. Female sky fairy by the name Xaviere. Wings replaced with spider silk. That would be the feisty one. Last target. Female werewolf named Olga. She was a storm wolf in her true form. No wonder she sympathized with the fae.

Rodi approached the second guard. The man looked at him, perplexed. “What are—“ Too late. Rodi’s dagger slid through the man’s gut with deadly ease. Only now did Rodi acknowledge the fairy.

“Something is most definitely about to happen,” he told her with a grin, “How about we make a deal? Help me carry the elf out of here, and I will set you free. Agreed?”

[Winter]

A tall figure appeared behind Rodi, mostly hidden in the shadow. He stepped into the dim light, grinning with wicked good cheer, revealing it to be a rather handsome man clad in guard uniform and wielding a large knife. Instead of attempting to kill the red-haired Fae, he performed an elaborate salute. "Nightingale reporting."
"The way has been cleared. We better hurry though, I found that an extra guard round comes around every ten minutes. And they are required to know the faces of all guards who work here." The man grimaced, his deep, distinctive voice fading into silence. "In other words, we have to hurry or we'll be fighting the entire castle."
Winter stepped lightly over the dead guard, careful to not make a sound, and produced a small leather wallet. He began to pick the lock, and spoke again without looking to his leader, "How many do we have today?" The changeling brushed his snowy hair from his striking bronze eyes with one hand, still working the lock-pick with the other.
The lock popped open with a barely audible click and Winter swung the old door open just enough for the prisoners to get out. Footsteps echoed down the hall, very far off, and coming slowly, Winter glanced urgently to Rodi for further instructions.

[Xaviere Arana]

Well now, this grew more and more interesting. Xaviere watched silently but with growing interest as the new guard promptly and efficiently dispatched of the regular guard. That wasn't normal routine. Her clear grey eyes followed as he slumped to the floor, a silent thrill of vengeance running through her still, pale form. The very same guard who had been, like the others, both attracted to her sensuous beauty and repelled by her cut-throat attitude and Fae features, leading to endless painful and derogatory punishments at their hands.
He deserved everything he got. If Xaviere had had time before the newcomer had done the deed, she'd have requested it be more painful.

Then, she noticed the arrival of another armed guard who made no protest about the death of the first.

Apparently, these weren't guards at all.
Xaviere grinned, slender hands gripping the bars as she watched the elegant, grim red-haired Muse appraise his next challenge (seemingly, several prisoners of which she was either one, or too irritating to ignore completely). And when he spoke to her, all efficiency and authoritative, it looked like her luck had just taken a turn for the better.

Xaviere smiled. "And here I was thinking you'd come down here to drag me upstairs for a nice public execution. If you can get my head off that particular charge, I'll happily help you carry anything." The fairy stepped back slightly from the bars to wait for the second Fae to get to her cell, already anticipating the freedom. Seemed the humans would have to try a little harder to get rid of this particular assassin.

More importantly, it seemed Litharia still had heroes, after all. And here she was being all cynical. But just what kind of heroes were these?

[Rodi]

Time restrictions did not make Rodi happy. Rescuing prisoners directly from the Ice Castle was always a dangerous ordeal. The battle muse scowled. “We have three. The wingless fairy, the spirit elf, and the werewolf.” The others would be left. The Song did not rescue petty thieves and cutthroats. They only cared about the war related prisoners. The spirit elf looked unconscious. It was good that the fairy agreed to help.

While Winter unlocked the fairy, Rodi dragged the elf out of the cell. He turned towards the werewolf. “Help Xaviere carry the elf.” There was no room in his voice for her to disobey. If she did, they could always leave her behind. “Winter, lead them out. I will take the rear.”

The battle muse drew a long, wicked spear from a holder on his back. He held it in his right hand and the dagger in his left. Rodi was a fighter. That was what he did best. Thankfully, the werewolf obeyed. She took up one half of the elf and waited for Xaviere to pick up the other. She was clearly terrified. He would have forced her into a deal as well, but shapeshifters had that nasty ability to lie.

[Winter]

Winter shot a reassuring smile in the werewolf's direction as he disappeared around the corner. The sounds of the guards footstep grew closer and were suddenly silenced, only a small strangled choking to be heard. The changeling came back, still holding the serrated knife he had used to kill the guard with. Expression grim, he motioned for the prisoners to follow and made his way down the escape route.
Winter did not like taking lives. But sometimes it was necessary, and in the line of work he had chosen, unavoidable. Still leading down the hall, Winter closed his eyes a moment and prayed for the guards they had, and would kill.
The halls began to grow somewhat lighter, causing Winter to cringe. They were almost out of the castle and so far it wasn't as hard as stories said. The Ice Castle was supposedly the best prison in the world, but if two people could break in and take off with the prisoners, then it must not be true. Winter smiled softly to himself as he ran. With Rodi at the back and himself at the front, it was no surprise that they made their way so efficiently through the castle. Both trusted each other with their lives, and both were very accomplished fighters.
Winter swore as the small company stepped into the sunlight. He rubbed at his eyes and came face to face with a tall man in a commander's uniform. Behind the man was about ten or so guards, all quickly realizing the situation.
Winter almost instantly had twin daggers in his hands, staring down the man. ready to fight at a moment's notice.

[Xaviere Arana]

Freedom! Xaviere stepped out of the cell, unfurling her wings as if to say, 'wingless fairy, huh?' She was wingless only in the strictest sense of the word. Thanks to an unprecedented stroke of luck the Fairy had been spared not only her life, but her power of flight too.

Still, they were pretty creepy. The outfit she wore was deliberately eye catching and sparse, beautiful silver-grey spider silk clinging to pale skin, but her wings would never be the striking storm-and-silver butterfly wings they once were. The bones were bleached and thin spider webs drifted between them, a macabre reminder of lost innocence and cold-heartedness.

However she was still a Fae, which meant she had not lied when she'd agreed to help. Also she fancied her chances of escape would be better if she stuck with her unexpected rescuers. She been unconscious when she'd been carried down, after all, and didn't much feel like sneaking around the human fortress.

Xaviere took the injured Spirit Elf's head, her petite five foot frame stronger than it looked, and they progressed quickly through the passages with the Elf leading. His directions were faultless and the Fairy grinned exultantly when she felt the sun hit her face for the first time in over a month. It also revealed the extent of the damage - her skin was mottled grey and purple from bruising and deep, criss-crossing cuts decorated her back, the blood long dried, but Xaviere didn't feel them. She was far too busy appreciating the freedom.

"Okay, valiant rescuers, I hope your plan doesn't end here. We're hardly in safe territory and your friend here is in spectacularly bad shape."[/font]

[Rodi]

Ten? Twelve? That wasn’t…so bad.

The young battle muse calculated the odds of survival. Out of their company, he would most likely be the best fighter there. Fighting was, after all, embedded into his very life force.

There was four of them, assuming the fairy and the wolf could fight. The elf was obviously out of the picture. The wolf had claws and teeth, but the fairy was relatively unprotected. Rodi made a quick decision to give the fairy his dagger, a wicked and valuable weapon, if it came down to a fight. He hoped she would know how to use it. Generally speaking, the prisoners they rescued were a tough bunch.

Even so, they were outnumbered and at a disadvantage due to the injured elf they had to carry. Their one advantage was in their glamour. Rodi and Winter looked like members of the guard. Now Winter had best do some quick thinking if he wanted to talk his way out of this, otherwise they would be forced to fight. Part of him was furious with himself. He should have taken the lead so that Winter would not be in that situation! But another side of him was perfectly calm; he trusted Winter to keep cool.

[Winter]

Winter didn't miss a beat.
He slid his daggers back into the sheaths in his sleeves, careful not to let anyone notice, and
gave the giant man a sharp salute, expression stony. "Sir! We were ordered to bring these prisoners to Interrogation Room B."
There, the addition of one of the rooms in the castle would make it more believable. Well, as long as they didn't know anything about the room...

The man seemed to consider the statement for a moment, and accepted it with a nod of his head. "Very well, but who are you? I've never seen you or him," he gestured to Rodi, "before."
"We're transfers from the other wing." Winter replied cooly. The man grinned and his demeanor turned friendly. However the fact that he was close to seven feet tall, and made of nothing but muscle made the mood seem disturbing.
"So am I! What unit are you from?"
Winter swore under his breath. What unit? He didn't know what the units were, hadn't even had enough time to research the guards!
Time to ad-lib. Maybe he could still make it out of there without trouble.

"Sorry sir, we're in a hurry." Winter frowned at motioned vaguely down the corridor. The man sized Winter up again, growing displeased.
"You can go, but there's only one thing I have to ask you. Who the hell do you think you are?" his voice rose to a thundering growl as he seized Winter by the collar of his jacket, causing him to yelp in surprise. He lifted him partway, snarling in his face, "I run the interrogation room! I would know if a huge group like this were going into my office."

Winter gulped, going pale. The man really was strong. Suddenly over half of the patrol fell limply, apparently unconcious.
Winter gave a feral grin. The anesthetics he had put in the mess hall were finally kicking in. A jagged knife seemed to appear in his hands and tear through the throat of the giant interrogator. He let out a strangled noise and dropped Winter, falling back into one of his men.

"Don't let them get away!" Winter leaped over the fallen man after a guard who had been attempting to run for help and took him out with cold precision. He glanced back at Rodi and the captives to see how they were faring.
Well the prisoners at least. Rodi would be fine, fighting was in his blood after all.
A guard came at him bearing a broadsword with merciless swings, forcing Winter to drop back and protect himself. The prisoners would have to save themselves.

[Xaviere Arana]

Well well now. Things had just taken a turn for the worst, but Xaviere made no move to indicate fear or uncertainty. She indicated to the Werewolf to gently lower the Elf they were carrying, leaving the injured creature hopefully out of harms way just in time to find they were being charged but some pretty pissed off guards.
They wanted to play it like that, huh?

They always underestimated her. She was female, after all, and in the Human world women were no more than property. This was not true for Fae of course, and Xaviere had spent years learning how to weild a blade. She was an assassin, not a soldier, but she had the necessary skills to take out an idiotic guard who thought the slender, pretty Fairy would take no more than a few words and a bit of rope to subdue.
He found his own dagger slotted neatly between his ribs for that mistake.

Xaviere smiled coldly, standing in a defensive crouch over the injured Elf. It was a minute or two before another guard decided to tackle her, having ascertained his comrades were busy with Rodi and Winter.
"Hello, darling. Bet you didn't expect to see me out alive." Seemed she recognised him from her period of incarceration. He showed few such signs in return, no doubt more interested in removing the current threat.
He didn't manage it.

Ugh, Human blood. The Fairy delicately wiped it off her pale cream skin, cold grey-blue eyes watching for further threats.[/font]

[Rodi]

Winter was good at the talking. He seemed to come up with an answer for everything the other asked. But this was dangerous. Their intelligence was not all knowing. They did not have the names and faces of every guard under the king. Rodi was tense, his heart pounding, waiting for—yep. Here it came. The attack. And then, Rodi had to allow himself a smirk as several men dropped down.

Score one for Winter, that stuff kicked in just in time. In the time it took to blink, Rodi carefully analyzed the situation. The fairy and the werewolf, as he suspected, were fine on their own. It seemed the girl did not even need his blade. The muse grinned. He was impressed.

And relieved. With them battle ready and the odds much closer to even, Rodi could remain by the injured prisoner. He was not going to lose one. He had more than a reputation to protect, but a life. Rodi had never lost one before. With expert precision, Rodi fought a man who happened to come within reach of his spear. The deadly weapon went through the man’s throat with frightening precision. The move was swift enough to prevent the man from calling for help.

Meanwhile, the werewolf Olga was locked in combat with her own assailant. She had shifted into her half form, with large, vicious teeth tearing gashes in the frail human guard. It was not a one way battle, however. He had a weapon and she did not. Olga was receiving several wounds from the man’s knife. His sword lay abandoned on the floor. At least she had managed to get that away from him.

[Winter]

Winter plucked a small knife from his boot and launched it at the guard who tangled with Olga the werewolf. With a yelp, the man toppled over and Winter promptly turned to lock into battle with another guard.

Then suddenly, the battle ended just as quickly as it began, and the corridors fell into an unnatural sort of silence, broken only by the breath of those still among the living. Winter panted lightly, glancing back to Rodi and the prisoners. Rodi, of course was fine, the fairy clothed in spiderwebs seemed un-injured as well. Olga however had not been so lucky.

She bled from many shallow wounds, and looked to be in great pain. Winter removed a jacket from one of the guards and got to work expertly cutting it into strips and making make-shift bandages. He tied each one tight and then looked back to Rodi. "She'll be okay, they were only flesh wounds."

Winter stood and brushed himself off. "We need to go. Now. There's no way that at least one guard didn't hear that little scuffle, and the unconsious ones will awake in less than ten minutes." He frowned and glanced down the halls. They were almost out, but that always seemed to be the hardest part.

[Xaviere Arana]

Xaviere had thrown herself wholeheartedly into the abrupt scuffle - her life, after all, depended on it. But despite their disadvantages the small group managed to overwhelm the guards and, warily, Xaviere stood up and glanced briefly at the unconscious Elf behind her. Seemed their protection efforts had succeeded, too - the unconscious Fae was no worse off than he already had been.

"Time to leave, then? Lead the way." Xaviere had no desire to wait around for her captors to wake up. Revenge was sweet of course - she had thoroughly enjoyed dispatching a couple of her tormenters, but battles like this weren't her forte. The Fairy was an assassin; she specialised in stealth, in underhanded tactics, not in face-to-face battles.

Xaviere bent down and picked up the unconscious Elf at the shoulders again, her sympathy for him enough to not mind that it slowed them down. He was a fellow prisoner after all and had been tortured cruelly by the looks of it - if not directly then at least by denying him the treatment of a Healer. The Werewolf, though, was no longer in such great shape.
"Er, a little help here?"

[Rodi]

Winter was already tending to Olga. That was good. Rodi tilted his head to the side, a silent question. With Winter, words were hardly needed.

"She'll be okay, they were only flesh wounds."

The muse nodded once as a small bubble of relief was released inside him. If the wounds had been serious, getting out would have been much harder.

Time was of the essence at this point. He looked over Olga, trying to gauge the immediate severity of her health. She looked well enough. “If you help carry the elf, will it slow you down?” The wolf shook her head, her gaze was strong and resolute.

Rodi nodded. He would have taken over if it was necessary, but he much preferred to keep his hands free in case of a fight. He waited while the werewolf knelt to lift the bottom half of the elf, watching her carefully to make sure she was truly okay.

Satisfied, Rodi signaled for them to move on. Someone would eventually be along to investigate the sound of their scuffle. They would not be happy to see the unconscious guards. Rodi briefly considered moving them, but there would not be enough time to clean up the mess.