Steading of the Hill Giant Chief

Hmm no keys.. Fernal just leaves the point dropped and walks away to the next cell.

Julian glances at the prisoner, Ælfric, and then Korgazhar. "Perhaps you could break these chains Korgazhar; otherwise, I could divine the password. This would take time. Something we have little of at the moment."

Korgazhar watched when Aelfric stepped in with the magic word required to dispel the magical darkness and silence. He continued to watch as Fernal and Julian confronted each other. At this point, it was the barbarian that annoyed him more, unncessarily risking their cell by cell search. He watched the darkness melt away to reveal the female prisoner, and hoped that this one would be of better sense and use. Maybe she knew how to get to the orc rebels.

"No other magic words anywhere else that might release these?" Korgazhar looked at Aelfric and Julian. Perhaps their searches of the bugbears and their belongings revealed other things. "I shall give these a try." The half-orc attempted both to rip the chains out of their sockets, and also hewing at them with the axe he carried with him.

Upon hearing the reassurances of the elf and the robed human, the red-haired prisoner seems somewhat more at ease. Her eyes pierce you intensely, searching for some reason to trust again after her abusive ordeal. "You are from Istivin?" She asks timidly.

"Yes." The half-orc answered curtly, pulling taut the chains that held the red-haired woman, so that he wouldn't accidentally hit her. 'You can tell us what they want with you once we get you free."

The woman gives a cynical retort. "What they want with me?....these animals, what do they ever want with anyone, but to cause pain and suffering." She cranes her head towards the ceiling and speaks as if addressing a divine power. "Oh Sunfather, I fear the hatred I have always felt for giantkin has grown now out of control, so forgive me. I myself am not without sin, as none of us are, and even among the self-proclaimed 'good' races of men, elves and dwarves, live the most vile and wicked....yet I wonder, among these giant hoards, is there not one with even a spark of goodness in his heart? Is there no hope of recourse for them?" The woman quakes as she addresses the 'Sunfather', but you get the impression her words are also meant to be heard by those around as she confesses her anger.

Julian had seen how others had worshiped their gods, seen his share of people shout to the sky as though their deity might answer. The prisoner's cries to Pelor did not endear him to her, but did nothing to inspire resentment either. "Spark of good or no, they pose a great threat to the balance of power in this region. They must be dealt with. When we free you, can we rely on you to assist us in whatever capacity you are able?"

She makes a fist with her right hand and places it on her forehead, perhaps a gesture of honor meant to seal her promise. "...That, I promise..." She says softly, her voice still trembling.

Korgazhar grunted in disdain at the woman's mention of the 'good' races, but saved his words until he had completed the task of breaking the chains.

"I grow weary of not having answers. Aelfric. Keep your eye on the halls. I must prepare a ritual to divine the solution to any further magical obstacles we would face." Julian mentally ordered his pegasus to squeeze its way into the cell block, out of sight from any passersby, as he moved to the far end of the block to prepare a ritual to contact a being who may have solutions to his problems.

"I thank you...I am Sister Dwendylin Ashar, also of Istivin." The woman says as her bonds are broken. "I have lost track of the days since they began to torture me, and perhaps the pain has clouded my memory, but I am sure I heard my captives speak of some 'mistress' the giants serve....a priestess if I am not mistaken, who is not a giant. A greater darkness may be coordinating these hoards I fear."

She takes a small step of freedom, the first in a very long time and she is glad, but still looks down at the manacles that continue to grasp her wrists. She clasps her hands together as if in prayer and speaks a sacred phrase in the tongue of angels. "Let there be light."

Julian nodded at Dwendylin's information. "I have glimpsed this mistress in my divining, however briefly. She is a powerful magic user, as Aelfric and I discovered to our misfortune."