Orion continued to watch from the wall adjacent, blinking involuntarily when the one of the stones shifted slightly, dried mortar swirling to the ground.

If it hadn't been for that mortar, Orion might have questioned whether the stone had actually moved. A moment later, any doubt he might have harbored disappeared as the stone visibly jumped outwards.

Palsat backed up all the way to the other ened of the cell. He took a quick breather and stared forward. This time he ran as fast as he could and kicked the darn rock with all the he could possibly muster.
    The rough-cut rock lew from it's socket, leaving a gaping hole in the wall. Dust swirled in all directions and chips of stone littered the ground of the dungeon cells.

As the rock ejected itself from the wall, landing with a crash against the opposite wall, Orion found himself thankful he was sitting next to the door.

Ignoring the rock, the squirrel instead stared at the hole where dust obscured all but a set of footpaws protruding from the other cell.

Although he wondered which one of the prisoners the footpaws belonged to, Orion remained silent. For a moment, he mused as to whether or not they even knew he was in here, but decided it didn't really matter – they would find out soon enough.

Palsat grunted in mild satisfaction. He had done it. He had broken out of his cell and into the next.
    He crawled out of the hole and into the other cell, squeezing himself through the small opening. As soon as he got through he took a quick look around…
    Then he saw Orion.
    "Oh."
    Frolong called in from the other cell. "Hey, Paly boy. What's it like in there? Mind if I come in?"
    "That depends on what our new friend says."

When Palsat clambered through the hole and saw him, Orion locked eyes, then listened with something akin to amusement at the short conversation that ensued.

"That depends on what our new friend says."

"Oh, by all means," Orion said levelly, finally deigning to speak. "Although I'm guessing this cell isn't much different from yours."

Palsat gave a sweet smile. "Why of course it isn't. Thats is, believe it or not, the reason that I came into here. I didn't know that there were any of beasts on this level of the fortress however."
    And with that he took out the keys that he had taken from the gaurd and procceded to the door.

Standing up, Orion moved aside to make way for Palsat. "And you couldn't use the keys on your cell door, why?" he asked, watching the marten.

"It's a duel key mechanism. If you insert and turn the key over in the other cell than you have to turn another key over in this cell at the same time or the door won't open. That'as why we needed to get in into here."
    He stepped past Orion and reached through the food flap.
    "Oh, here's a diffenence. The tray door goes two ways. It only goes one way in our chamber. I was banging the door earlier to get it open. You probably heard me."

Orion nodded quietly, then realized Palsat wasn't looking at him. He was about to give a verbal affirmative when he decided it didn't really matter, promptly closing his mouth. Instead, he leaned against the wall and watched the marten work.

"Hah! I got it!" Palsatpulled his paw out again and turned to Frolong, who was halfway through the hole in the wall. He tossed him a key.
    "Hey, reach through the flap in the other cahmber and put this in the key slot. Turn it when I tell you too."
    Frolong looked at the key a moment, then shrugged. "What could it hurt?" After another moment of studying the key in mild confusion he went back through to the other cell, muttering. "I don't see what good it will do though."
    The martin turned to Orion again. "So, do you want to get free?"

Orion chuckled mirthlessly, arms crossed over his chest. "What's this? Rhetorical questions? I'll be right behind you."

The squirrel leaned away from the wall for a moment to swish his tail free, then settled back against it, gray eyes on Palsat. "I'm just hoping this escape has a better outcome than any of your previous ones."

Palsat laughed. "Of course we'll get out this time. I thought of the idea."
    He called out to the other cell. "Ready?"
    "Ready!"
    "1,2,3… Now!" There was a wining creak as the keys turned and then a little click of success. Both chamber doors swung slowly open.
    But Palsat couldn't tell who was more surprised; him, or Valmorg and the eight gaurds that were with him right outside the door.

There was a moment of shock on both sides, but then…
    "OOF!"
    Palsat launched forward and punched Valmorg right on the nose. He grabbed the stunned martin by the scruff and haulled him up, with a dagger at his throat.
    He spoke gently and quietly to the confused vermin in the halway.
    "Drop your weapons at my footpaws and step slowly away to where I can see you and don't come after us. We will leave your little leader at the end of the tunnels."
    He called ot the others when the beasts had obeyed. "Frolong, take the bow and arrows and train them at the captain's throat. We don't want anyone following us out. Orion, I need you too grab that bottle of wine and a long strip of cloth."

((Hm, I don't think Orion ever introduced himself, but no matter.))

Seeing Palsat had the situation mostly under control, Orion walked out of the cell at more of a leisurely pace. Frowning at what the marten asked him to do, he nevertheless did as ordered, picking up the bottle of wine from the floor.

While searching for a strip of cloth, Orion picked up two sheathed daggers from the pile of weapons, stashing them in his belt for the time being. Already, the squirrel felt better, less defenseless. Pity there's no more bows. Frolong took the last one. I guess I'll just have to get one later, then.

Unable to find any cloth among the weapons, Orion moved nimbly over to one of the guards and removed a pouch from the guards waist. Stepping a safe distance away, he quickly opened it to inspect the contents. Appears to be medical supplies…

Reaching in, he pulled out a long wrap. Alright, first try, he thought amusedly, attaching the pouch to his waist. These supplies might come in handy later.

Holding up the medical wrapping for Palsat to inspect, he asked "Will this work?"

"Perfect. Now stuff one end into the bottle. We might have use for it later."
   Palsat kept the knife at Valmorg's throat, not prepared to let go any time soon.
   The tyrant reamaned calm, though in danger. He didn't want to get killed, but didn't think that he would. Palsat wouldn't kill a defensless creature and he knew it.
   He was however losing the bait that he had set for Trok.
   Sort of…
   Palsat stepped back down the halway.
   "Frolong, shoot if anyone shouts. We've had enough fun for today."

As asked, Orion pulled out the cork from the bottle, tossing the scent-laden object away with a shudder. Quickly stuffing the end of the bandage into the bottle so there was still a nice, long tail, he held it away from him, breathing deeply. bloody alcohol…

When his head cleared, he followed Palsat, bottle in one paw, long dagger in the other.

Valmorg changed it all. They were only about fifty paces down the hall when The martin began secretly signing to the gaurds with his paws.
    -throw-dirk-kill- A simple message. 3 easy signs.
    The captian replied with a nod. He put his paw behind his back and began to retrieve his hidden weapon. Fifty paces was an easy throw for someone as big as Palsat.

Walking behind Palsat, gray eyes cautiously watching the doorways they passed, Orion was tempted to simply kill Valmorg on the spot. Unlike some beasts, he didn't have any qualms about harming a defenseless creature, especially knowing the marten would, himself, lose no sleep over the same thing.

Nevertheless, killing him here would accomplish nothing. In fact, it would likely be detrimental to their escape, seeing as he was their ticket out of here. Still, Orion mused. Something doesn't feel right… It didn't occur to the squirrel to look behind him at the guards, figuring the other two were doing that.

The gaurds saw that the others were no longer looking in their direction. They extracted their hidden dirks.
    Something that Valmorg had all of his new horde beasts taught was the art of throwing knives. Each always kept a dirk hidden inside of their clothing and used them in emergency situations.
    The eight gaurdds threw the blades down the hall, towards the four fugitives. They kept the aim cleaary off of Valmorg, but still aimed to imobilize Palsat and all of the others.

As the deadly projectiles made their way towards the escapees, fate, as it's wont to do, stepped in. Orion stubbed his paw on a stray stone. Although normally that would do little to inhibit the squirrel, that coupled with his state of near-starvation he had been forced to endure in the past weeks was enough to bring him heavily to the ground.

Still, despite his fatigue, he managed to soften the blow with a partial roll, at the same time as managing to both keep his dagger from impaling him, and keep the bottle of wine from breaking.

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