Murton’s hand sat on his bare face for several silent moments. His face slowly transitioned from pale white to pink, before settling on a deep shade of ruby. His breath started huffing out of him in fast and bigger thrusts as his hand started to shake.

“Murton, Teryn said quietly, coming around to his side. “We can deal with this later. I know what you want to do, but we need to get out quietly. Please Murton, for me. For us.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch violently. He took a long breath, trying to even out the gasps that were coming. Devin saw the red go slightly softer as he stood up. He turned towards Teryn and murmured, “Promise me.”

“Promise you what?”

“Promise me we'll be back. I need to hurt the people who did this.”

“Well, if it was the torturer, he's dead in the hall.” Dahlia piped up, causing another snicker from Daisy.

“Is that one the blonde fellow, kind of skinny and scraggly lookin’?”

“That's him.”

Murton shook his head. “There were two others before him. A bigger black haired fellow, had it all slicked back with oil. And a woman. Beautiful woman but cold. Face like ice with purple lips.” He shuddered slightly. “Promise him and her are mine.”

“I promise Murton, I will do everything in my power to help you with this.” Teryn said.

Devin saw the dwarf was still shaking, so he walked over and stood down beside him, resting his mangled hand on the dwarfs shoulder. “I promise as well, Murton. I have my own payment to exact on these people, one in particular.”

Murton finally stopped shaking and his face returned to a more normal hue, if still slightly red. “Thanks lad. Thanks to both of you. I’m gonna hold you to it though, so be prepared.”

Griff grunted on the table behind them, loudly.

“Oh gods, I am so sorry Griff!” Teryn snatched the keys from Dahlia and jogged over to him. She quickly undid his clasps, freeing him from the torture table. He seemed slightly better off than Murton, likely due to him not mouthing off to the torturers. He rolled his neck, causing a cascading sound of pops, and stretched his arms across his massive barrel chest.

As Teryn fussed over the wounds on Griff, Dahlia addressed them all. “Unless you know where they stashed your weapons, we need to make do with what we can salvage here.”

She looked at Devin, Griff, and Murton in turn, each of who shook their heads except Murton.

“Any ideas Murton?” she asked.

“None at all, they took them off us way before we got here, they could be anywhere.”

“Well, luckily, we are in a torture chamber. There seem to be enough tools to make do with makeshift weapons. I don’t plan on fighting our way out of here, but it never hurts to be prepared.”

Teryn turned from Griff, satisfied he was not wounded in any significant way, and announced, “I’m good to go. Magic needs no physical presence.”

“I’ve got my short bow,” Shia said, patting at her leg. Griff reached down to the table he was on and started to pull. Thick ropes of muscle bulged and strained against the wooden table, banded with metal. He let out a loud groan as the table started to squeak. With a rending crunch, the table tore away from the metal post that was holding it up from the floor.

“Ready,” he said, holding the table as an impromptu shield and patting its side.

Devin walked over to the desk that held all the tools of the deceased man's trade. There were an abundance of highly specialized tools, made to inflict pain when used specifically, but likely useless outside of their purpose. He picked through a few of the tools, eyeing a tin saw for a moment, before settling on two rods.

The rods had leather handled and about eight inches long, tapering to a slight point. He guessed they were for heating and burning, but the point and metal would do for now as an impromptu pair of stilettos. He glanced over and saw Daisy hefting one of the larger saws, possibly made for cutting through bone on a large limb. She gave him a slight wink when she saw him watching her, swinging the saw like an axe a few times.

Murton blundered around, trying to feel his way toward the table they were choosing weapons from.

“Perhaps it is best if you don’t have a weapon, Murton,” Teryn said. “Especially not something sharp. We don’t want you hurting yourself or one of us by accident.”

“Nonsense,” he shot back, “My eyes are starting to open. In fact, I can see nearly clearly!” He ran into the edge of the desk, simultaneously hitting his shin on the lower brace and his gut on the top, cursing.

Teryn sighed and walked back over to him, “At least let me help you pick something.” She sort through the desktop, opening several drawers as well, before she found a large hammer. She handed it over to him and he grunted in appreciation.

“Almost feels like my own hammer. Bit smaller and lighter though.” He gave it a few swings and nodded, satisfied he could help.

“Are we all ready then? We need to be quick and decisive to get out of here.” Dahlia asked.

“What's the plan?” Devin asked. “I mean, we are free now, but that was the easy part. How do we escape from the compound itself?”

“Well, We still have the Argenti clothes, even if mine are ruined.” She gestured down at the blood splatter turning a crusty brown on her robe. “Though that might actually help us…”

She shook her head, “Anyway. I plan on leading you out as my new prisoners, and walking straight out the front gate. We will get as far as we can, and, if that fails, fight our way out as much as we can.”

“Do ya really think they’ll let ya walk out? I mean, I know the Argenti are powerful, but Bronn seems to be amassing his own base of power.”

“Murton makes a good point, surprisingly,” Teryn said. “What if this is the catalyst that causes him to challenge the Silver Queen?”

“Then we fight our way out, plain and simple.” Dahlia said.

“Won't we be killed pretty easily if we have to fight our way out?” Shia asked, looking worried.

“Probably,” Daisy nodded, earning herself another withering glare from her sister which she returned with her broken tusked grin.

“We will only resort to that if we need to. Our robes carried us this far, I think they will carry us through at least until we are out of the compound.” Dahlia said. “Is everyone armed enough though?” The group nodded toward her.

“Now, hide those as best as you can.”

Devin managed to stick the metal rods under his armor and turned toward his two friends. Murton was feeling around at the disheveled shorts he wore while Griff was just standing with the table in hand.

Dahlia strode over, “This may be a bit more difficult than I thought.”

“I’ve got it!” Devin said. “Griff, lay the board down on the ground here.” Griff placed the remnants of the table on the ground at his feet.

“Murton,” Devin continued, “No offense, but you look like absolute shit. We are going to use that to our advantage.”

“None taken, I figure I am finally down at your level for daily looks,” he said with a bloody grin. Devin winced at the missing teeth.

“I’m glad to note they didn't harm your head any worse than it was before.” Devin said. “Now, we are going to lay you down on the board. Griff and I will carry you out, pretending you cannot walk at all.”

“Great idea,” Dahlia said, her face lit up as she caught on. “The Argenti would never stoop to carrying prisoners on their own. What better way to punish them than make them carry their own comrade?”

“Exactly,” Devin nodded, grinning.

“This might actually work, it seems sadistic enough for an Argenti.” Teryn noted.

Murton got down and felt around for the board before locating it and laying on it. Devin and Griff stepped to either end of the board and knelt to pick it up.

“What about my hammer?” Murton asked.

“Can you stick the handle underneath you and hide the head with your arm or something?” Shia said.

“Aye, I can do that. It's a bit uncomfortable though.” Murton replied.

“Beats dying,” Shia said back.

Devin grabbed the board with his good hand and the three remaining fingers of his bad hand through the bandage. He counted to three and lifted with Griff. Murton was surprisingly light, though Devin suspected Griff was doing much of the lifting. When they settled on a height, Devin shifted his hand and gasped in pain.

His mangled right hand shot jolts of electric pain from his missing fingers down his arm. The board slipped slightly before he caught it, causing another wave of pain to shock him. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he steadied himself.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Teryn asked.

“He has to. It will be awful, but the fact his hand is mangled and he is carrying this will really seal the deal.” Dahlia said.

“Now wait just a minute-” Shia started before Devin interrupted them.

“No, she’s right. That's why I came up with this idea and intended to carry it. We really need to make this as believable as we can to get out of here alive.”

“Fine, but as soon as we get out of here we are getting your hand fixed,” Shia spat as she turned on her heel toward the door.

“You two got Murton now?” Dahlia asked. Devin and Griff nodded. Devin saw Griff's muscles straining again and suspected he was lifting far more than his share to ease the burden on Devin’s hand. He would have to properly thank him for that after all of this, if they made it out alive.

“You will walk directly in front of me and do your best to look beaten and downtrodden,” Dahlia gave Daisy a small shove toward the door.

“Growing up under you, that shouldn’t be too much of a stretch for me,” Daisy said. Dahlia rolled her eyes and led her out the door.

“Siblings, eh?” Murton asked from the table.

“Never had any,” Devin said as he started to walk through the door into the hallway.

“Oh I did, fifteen of them to be exact. We were all only a couple of years apart and fought like you’d never believe.”

“Fifteen of you and only a couple of years apart? How in the world did your parents manage that?” Shia asked from behind them.

“Dwarves are different from humans. For us breeding consists of planting the seed and fertilizer in some rocky ground. We sprout like plants in a few months. You can plant as many as you’d like, too.” Murton lay on the table, shaking softly as his own jokes.

Devin glanced over to see Shia squinting at him. After a few moments she turned away from him and said, “I don’t believe you. After this I’ll just ask Teryn what really happens.”

Murton continued to laugh at himself before turning his attention to Griff, who was holding the head portion of his board.

“What about you big man, got any siblings?”

“Two,” Griff said, as he looked back over his shoulder to make sure he would not run into the door at the end of the hall.

“They as big as you?” Murton asked.

“Bigger,” Griff answered simply. Murton let out a low whistle.

“Time to hush, dwarf. We are about to go through the door and back up to the main level. Do your best to pretend you're on death's door, and quietly,” Dahlia hissed back at the group.

They passed through the door in silence and made their way back up a winding staircase. Devin tried to count the number of doors and floors they passed on their way up but was distracted by the increasingly throbbing pain in his hand. They finally came to the top level and walked back out into a vaulted room.

They crossed a carpeted floor and Devin noted a ridiculous mural of Bronn fighting a dragon on his left. He rolled his eyes at the ostentatiousness of the whole thing. He shot a quick look at Teryn and saw her doing the same thing as she eyed the mural.

They passed the mural and found themselves looking down the hall toward the front entrance. Devin cursed silently at the sight of several guards mingling around the door. Two of them were crouching behind a desk and muttering to each other. One of the guards near the door turned toward the group and raised his hand.

“Halt!” he called out.

“Here we go,” mumbled Murton, prompting a small shake of his board from Griff.