Of all the luck! No sooner had I managed to assemble a snap-bladed pistol from my issued hygiene kit and some found parts than it is discovered and I am incarcerated. Ah, well, from everything can be found profit, as my ancestors would say. Having took not of the materials available to me (a wooden pallet with a heap of straw for bedding—at least it was clean, fresh straw) I set to work plaiting a crude twine from the straw as I determined how to disassemble the pallet into useful parts. I had maybe 10 feet of twine in this manner when I noticed the guards’ distraction over something I looked and saw a gunship sailing directly for the keep! Noting the ship’s trajectory, I realized that I had little time for a methodical breakout and, kicking the pallet apart, I began tying boards into a wedge against the cell’s door and then got myself to the safest corner of the cell. The blast of the ship’s powder going off hit my wedge with enough force to break the door’s hinge pins and, free once more, I moved with purpose to the armory to retrieve my pistol, relieving a corpse of its truncheon and cloak along the way to better fit in amongst the chaos.
The armory was, of course locked, so I went in search of a key, or at least something to pick the lock with. I quickly found a guard not too willing to risk his life, but unfortunately perceptive enough to note me sneaking up on him. Luckily, he was easily bluffed, and I got his dagger in exchange for not telling the captain of his dereliction of duty. The dagger was of poor quality and snapped in the lock, but there was enough wedge of blade left to pry the hinge pins loose. Having aqcuired my pistol again, as well as powder and shot for it (something I was still working on assembling when the falcons discovered me) I made for the officers quarters to make my exit. Finding an unlocked door I relieved the officer of a pair of fine daggers and a letter opener—the closest thing to tools he had. I then fashioned a crude rope of the officer’s bedclothes and quickly descended to freedom, ridding myself of that ridiculous black cloak on the way.
I had almost made the safety of the trees (and determined how to fashion the letter opener into a functional screwdriver) when I was accosted by an idiot Colronan determined to prevent me from accosting the honor of some imaginary damsel. He was, however, not so far gone in rut that words were insufficient to convince him of my disinterest in said maiden and I continued on to the village, where I managed to divest the blacksmith of a few more tools. I then wandered some, trying to find a nice, private place to work when I stumbled onto a glider that had been secreted away! Not willing to ignore an opportunity staring me so blindingly in the face, I dragged the glider to a quiet spot near the village and began dissasembling it in order to upgrade it to something more capable of long-term flight.
I was approximately one-third finished with the dissasembly when I was accosted by an angry woman demanding to know what I was doing with her glider. Before I could respond properly, Roderigo the Colronan leapt out from behind a bush and accosted me again. We ended up talking it out and, as it turns out, all of us wanted off this Vaoz-forsaken rock. I began revising my plans for the glider to enlarge it to hold all of us, including the Colronan’s unconscious brother and possibly a koldun from the village, if the Barathi wench can convince him to join us in taking the supply boat—and if we can get him unfettered. The Barathi found a safer place for me to work and Roderigo hauled in his sibling, whom I checked over for damage as the Barathi went to speak with the koldun and fetch me a few tools. I do not envy the sibling the headache that will be there on awakening, but that is one fortunate Colronan.