ACT I | Part 1 - The Imprisoned

Visions of last night pass through everyone's unconscious minds. The poisoned governor, the frantic barmaid, barking guards swarming into the tavern, ending with sharp pains striking the backs of your heads...

The still sore and pounding lumps are likely the first thing you all feel as the grogginess lifts and eyes slowly flutter open. Mossy, grime-coated stones are what serve as your current cots and pillows. Dripping from the nearby trickling water spout in your cell tells your parched throats that at least the dungeon you're in isn't totally without remorse for its incarcerated denizens. There is little light within the cell save that which comes from a nearby dying torch's flickering embers.
Aside from the torch and the water, all is silent within this gaol. It's hard to say whether or not any guards are nearby or patrolling.

What a way to make a name for your party in the capital... First, you were just barely on the lips of others. Now? Now you're likely to be muttered as assassins and traitors to the crown...
Well, in any case... Not much to do now except to make idle chatter with one another.

As Bull grips the bars, he can feel the damp chill that coats them. He tries to bend the bars managing to at least hear some creaking. Alas, the bars of their confinement are strong and far from malleable.
Standing closer to the dimly lit hall though, the bisren can hear what sounds like something skittering in the darkness from the end that has no lit torch. Perhaps a rat, but even one as dull as Bull recognizes that it's a bit bigger than a regular rat. A giant rat maybe?

Drova looks down the darkened hall where Bull mentioned something like a rat was heard. The dwarf's eyes spy the reddened outline of something alright - but not anything that would suggest a rat. Instead, as the creature rears its head around the corner of what might be a cell or an alcove, she recognizes the form of a goblin. It seems to have some sort of sack hoisted over its shoulder.
The goblin finally notices everyone in the cell and stares inside from a distance. Then everyone can hear its dry laughter as it points at the bars. Before it starts off further down the dark hall, it shakes its rear at everyone, cackling something in Goblin. Afterwards, it's gone.

Bull collides with the thick iron bars, causing a clatter to partially echo through the stone halls. The bars barely bent, their foundations unbroken. Some dust lightly tumbles down onto the ever-more pounding head of Bull.

"Oi! Keep it down, down there! Some of us don't get to sleep a whole day like you traitorous scum can get in a dungeon cell!" Cries out a voice from around the lit hall's corner. The sound of a slam notes their exit, as sudden as they entered.

As Bull continues to muscle the sturdy iron bars, Vallana searches the dimly lit cell. Alas, all she can find is moss, grime, a rusted manacle, and some small loose stones.
Both activities go on for maybe five minutes. Strangely, the guard that called out previously does not call out once more, despite the din of Bull's escape attempts.

"So then, you lot are the supposed killers of a royal official, eh?" quizzes a voice from around the corner of the torch. How they got there is quite curious since not a footstep was heard coming down the hall.