Case of a Halfling Napping - Time: Unknown - Place: Unknown

[Ashari]

When Sando woke up, it was to a dark room. There weren't any torches lit, nor candles, and either it was night (which meant he'd missed the dinner and celebration at the Laughing King) or his drapes had become significantly thicker. His bed, too, had changed, for while it had once been stuffed with light straw, this one felt hard as stone. So much so was it dense and thick, that the circulation to his left arm was gone and he couldn't feel it.

There were a vast many differences between this room and the one he'd slept in, from the fact that his pillow seemed to be missing, to the very smell of it, as this room was quite damp and had the faint undertone of mildew and rat droppings. This was no filtering of the Pancakes from downstairs! Where were the noises of the night time crowd and their merriment? Around the room there was no familiar glint of light from beneath the crack of the door as knowledge of the warmly lit hallway beyond.

This, surely, wasn't his room.

Then, as he blinked for the first true time since opening his eyes, Sando felt a knot in the pit of his stomach as aching realism set in. The bindings of his wrists cut into his tender skin and he tasted the rough cloth that was wound through his mouth. It wasn't too tight, but it did chafe badly. What a terrible way to wake up.

It had been a Halfling-napping! They'd stolen him, right in the Avenue of Trade. Hands had grabbed him, placed a hood over his head, and pulled him into a quickly moving cart. Something had been placed over his mouth, the details were vague and swiftly paced as memories shifted by and the echoed voices in the cart gave harsh directions out of the center of town. "Left 'ere.... then.. now straight on.... right...." he was missing things, pieces, whole chunks. His mind cut to being dragged down stairs, his heavy feet clunking against each step until he was tossed unceremoniously on the floor. "Have a sleep," a male's voice said, and then the light was gone, and he retreated with his torch.

How much time had passed since then was nearly impossible to guess.

[Sando Haymaker]

The merchant's mouth was a desert- all the moisture had been pulled from his lips and throat. Sando's gag had become a wick, redistributing his saliva about the outside of his sore cheeks. The burning sensation of the thick material of the silencing cloth sawing into his mouth was received as a surprisingly dull pain. His face had become numb to the binding. His hands did not enjoy the same benefit. Although his arm had fallen asleep, the soft skin of his wrists were quite capable of sensory perception.

"MMmmuhahhghh!" An involuntary and muffled cry of pain spilled out into the dark room.

Sleep encrusted eyelids blinked again and again as panic began to set in.

Thistleberry and sour ales! What have I gotten myself into now? the little halfling cursed himself for his lack of diligence. What could anybody want with me? I have little wealth... No power to extort. If they wanted me dead I would be halfway to the nether by now.

The halfling attempted to calm himself slightly and take in his surroundings. Sando's nose flared as he picked up on the scents of a subterranean environment. Somebody had stashed him somewhere below the city. But where?

The halfling, scared and alone, strained in an attempt to rise to a seated position.

[Ashari]

There was little his senses could pick up except for varying degrees of darkness and dankness. It wasn't entirely difficult to get into a sitting position, but almost as soon as he'd done it the tingling sensation of blood rushing back into his veins tore through his otherwise sleeping arm, giving him to want to itch and rub the appendage, though he had no free hand to do such a thing. Thus, the blood rushed of it's own accord with no soothing hand to smooth the travel.

Upstairs, or so it would be surmised, there was a bit of noise, now that Sando was upright and more aware of his surroundings. In fact, he could hear talking, though it was the murmered and muffled sort of speaking that made it difficult to tell what language it was excepting to prove that it was men doing the talking... or women with extremely bass voices as it resonated through the floor boards into the basement where Sando was being held captive.

[Sando Haymaker]

A thousand army ants swarmed down Sando's incapacitated arm as the life slowly returned to it. The infuriating tingling frustrated the halfling... but he had other things on his mind. The farmer attempted to shake off the uncomfortable sensation as well as he could given his present captive state and he set upon the task of escape.

His mind quickly went towards the obvious choice. My knife! The thought was dismissed nearly as quickly as it was formulated. No no no... Only a complete buffoon would leave a weapon on their bound victim. To this point, I have no reason to doubt the cunning of these people.

Sando was in no position to reach into his pocket and check at any rate.

A plan began to formulate in the little halfling's brain. What have they given me? Which card have they played? What can I use against them? The analysis chugged along and was aided by the relative peace of his basement dungeon. If only he had the freedom to pace. Sando's legs jittered restlessly as he pondered his options.

For one, they have shown their hand by leaving me alive and relatively uninjured. He paused and re-thought that statement. He quickly assessed his body for pain to the best of his ability. How did they get me here and why don't I remember it?

If my life is what is of value to them- that is what I must use against them. But how?

Sando continued his brooding while straining to pick up any distinguishable noises from above.

[Ashari]

Even in rolling from his side onto his bottom, Sando could get the impression that his pockets were emptied of anything either valuable or dangerous. His captors had the upper hand in many regards, though the fact that he managed to not become entirely upset was impressive and said much about his resolve - especially for being such a little person.

When trying to decide what he had at his disposal to assist with some manner of escape, little came to mind. The walls of this subterranean locker were made of roughly cut stone and the floor was powdery dirt - the type one always finds in places like this. It was fine and dusty, and the movements that the halfling made caused for it to kick up some and tickle his nostrils.

Thankfully, his legs weren't tied together. It was merely his hands. If he had the urge he could likely stand. It wouldn't be easy. Halflings weren't known for their agility and their body was shaped in a way that his current position would've been much helped by having his hands free to push him off the ground, but one can't have everything.

As to the noises above, they continued in their muffled conversation. The tones were that of men, or a women with very deep bass ranges. The latter was rather unlikely. It wasn't merriment upstairs. One certainly couldn't compare it to that which would be heard in the Dragon's Den or any such thing as that, but rather, the sort of talking one's uncles do late in the evening when trying to keep their voices down (unsuccessfully) at the behest of their wives due to the children sleeping in the next room. In that was there was a conspiring manner about it, though Sando couldn't make out what they were plotting. Likely, it had something to do with him.

[Sando Haymaker]

Still quite uncomfortable, the halfling straightened his legs out in front of himself in an attempt to regain some feeling and mobility. Stretching for a moment, he pulled them in towards his body and took up his natural cross-legged position.

As he shuffled, the dirt rose menacingly through the dank air. Suddenly, Sando's entire body clenched together violently and then released in an eruption of the most adorable little halfling sneeze imaginable. The high-pitched sound resonated loudly against the stone floor and served to be a sharp contrast to the dull tones coming from above.

No! He screamed the word in his mind. He wasn't ready for his thoughts to be interrupted. He was still very unsure as to how to go about escaping the present predicament.

He stopped moving at once, frozen with fear. He held his breath in an attempt to pick up any difference in sound from the floor above.