Her eyes adjust to the dimness of the room. It is lit with oil lamps on low heat, so it is difficult to make out faces in the shadows. 

She sees two figures, and they are quietly conversing one with another. She can't quite make out what they're saying, but hears snippets.

"...got a young one..."

"...He will definitely appreciate the freshness of..."

"...we have all the necessary shards..."

"...sacrifice...greater good..."

Delilah is fully awake.

(survival check, raw roll 18)

Delilah tries to relax her anxious, racing thoughts. Focusing on her body, she attempts to move her arms, her legs, or turn her head to see if the paralysis has worn off. When they first jabbed her, it felt similar to what she uses... but... 

How long was she out for? Where is she? Her mouth still gags at the taste of the alchemic liquid they force fed her earlier.

She is still very much paralyzed, and her voice and ability to speak are very much gone. One of the cloaked figures nearby approaches her, and leans in close, whispering in her ear. 

"Don't you worry, little mouse. We're going to 'take good care of you.'"

Her eyes shoot fiery daggers, her mind screaming and her mouth struggling to form the most colorful of curse words. Some she'd probably even repressed from the days Trident traveled with them...

(18 raw perception) 

Delilah strains her eyes and ears in the dim light, trying to see... hear... feel, anything. 

Looking for doors, windows, vents, tools... Her things?

Hearing for motors, running water, clanging metal... 

Feeling if she's on metal, dirt, wood...

She can tell she is on an upholstered metal table, on her side, her hands bound behind her, and her ankles tied together. She feels a thrumming sensation throughout the whole room, as if the place is vibrating. In the quiet, she thinks she can distinctly hear the chugging of steam-powered airship engines being pushed to their physical limits. 

She sees the two figures who were quietly conversing with one another earlier, now silently and eagerly rifling through her bag; tossing things this way and that as they are searching for...something, she can't tell what yet, until one of them grunts in triumph, holding the crystal she found in the basement of the museum with Thorin!

"Found it," exclaims the first. "Lord Mephistopheles will be pleased with both the find, and the new arrival!"

Delilah eyes the edge of the table and watches what things they toss aside, angry that her carelessness let them get the crystal. 

She sees her magic rope roughly discarded and with a silent moan of frustration she realizes, "If only I could TALK... I could use that to strangle these bastards...."

She sighs into the cloth gag around her mouth, the roughness of it irritating her face. She focuses on the sounds of the vibrating. "Airship engines... Where.... Where am I right now? Even if I get out of this, can I find a way off the ship...?" She racks her brain for ideas.

She concentrates, trying to breathe steadily. A calm voice, a fresh memory, comes to mind. "Strength comes from experience, and using what you've learned to your advantage... that... is a strength you have. Your brain. Your memory. Your wit."

(13 survival check) Delilah tries again to move her mouth, her tongue, her vocal cords. She tries to stretch her fingers. Anything at all.

The whole time remembering her friends... What they might do... Stories she read. One came to mind just then, from Rhys' children's book.

"...The valiant Night Stalker came, taking the great beast Mephistopheles for his crimes. With that, the reign of his cold evil was at an end. Fulfilling his promise, he returned to Asmodeus, triumphant to..." 

She smiles inwardly. Her eyes blaze again with confidence and a pickling of faith. "If they're taking me to *him*, and those stories are real.... They are soon in for a terrible fate."

Her fingers twitch slightly as she commands them, and her toes wiggle at her command. 

Neither of the two figures who had been rifling through her things notice that she is starting to get her feeling back...(4 perception raw roll).

Delilah tries to think rationally. "No way I can defend myself yet... I'm still tied up..."

She tries to bite her tongue and digs her fingernails into her skin, attempting to wake up and energize her nerves. It's difficult and takes time, but she starts registering more pain by the time she tastes blood.

(18 slight of hand/acrobatics + 2 from focus dice.....20) 

She attempts to slowly and carefully squirm free of her ropes around her wrists...at least to loosen them enough that she could slip out at a good time.

The ropes hang loosely, the feeling returning to her limbs. The two figures in cloaks don't notice her expert wriggling and wringing of her hands and feet. 

Her fears assuaged at the moment, confidence flowing through her, Delilah feels the time to act is soon...

Eyeing her silken rope on the floor.... she carefully slips from her bindings, sliding silently from the metal table. Rubbing her aching and bruised wrists, she slowly crawls toward the rope. 

She pulls her gag from her face. Forcing herself with sheer will, she utters the faintest, hoarsest whisper as her fingers touch it. "G..g...great..ness."

Her eyes flash at the two distracted cultists. She thinks of her mom... She thinks of her friends. Her intense determination scorching away the fear, hesitancy and guilt in her heart.

The other end of the rope shoots toward the two men like a dagger, wrapping around their mouths and necks in an instant. It pulls tight, strangling and choking them, and Delilah yanks it roughly back to pull them off their feet. (9 strength + 6 focus die, 15 total)

The two men fall over, struggling against the suddenly and surprisingly strong rope coiling itself menacingly about their necks and mouths.

Delilah steadies her legs, getting the rest of the feeling back as she stands. Still holding the end of the rope, she stalks toward them.

Looking down and meeting their eyes with a cold stare, she tightly clenches her fist around the rope. 

(22 + 5 focus die intemidate....... 27.)

"Y...y..you m..made a m...mistake... m...essing w...with me." She hisses the words, roughly forcing her throat to make the sounds.

"E...even I...if I c...c....can't le..leave this d...damn airsh...ship..." Her heart beats faster, her eyes hardening. "M...my f...friends w...will find m...me. And s...send your c...comrades t...to a pl...place w...worse t...than th...the lowest p...pits of Hell."

"B....but your b...blood..." She tightens her grip harder, willing herself to maintain eye contact.

"...Is mine."

The silk cord tightens to its 3,000 lb tensile limit instantly.... And snaps their necks.

After the shock of it all, she stumbles back, the sickening feeling swelling up from the pit of her stomach to her throat.

She turns away, leans against the wall, and retches.

Shaking from head to foot, she forces out the command, "U...un...undying." the rope goes limp and she drops it.

After taking several minutes to recompose herself, Delilah tries to get back into focus. 

Pulling her wig for Sarah off, she hurries to gather all of her affects together in her satchel again, buckling it to her waist. She plucks the crystal from the one cultists' hand, wrapping it and carefully hiding it in her bag.

She stashes a pair of Eliza's metal hairpicks into her waistband, a bag of polished beads and a mirror in one pocket, and her rope, now coiled and ready, in her hand.

She exhales to steady her nerves. Looking at the bodies with disdain, she reluctantly approaches them again. Knowing it is probably her best chance, but... sickened again at the idea... She removes the smaller of the two robes and dawns it over her clothes, tying the cloak on and pulling over the hood. Then she heads for the door.

Delilah approaches the door cautiously, making sure to keep herself quiet and stealthy. Very slowly, she opens the door, one tedious turn by one tedious turn at a time, she inches the door open. The hallway is empty of any cultists or danger...for now...

Delilah heads into the hallway. She tries to imagine being a cultist... Thinking about their patterns, their movement, their gait. Confidence, persuasive confidence. That's what she needs. 

"And a good backup plan..." She thinks as well, feeling the metal picks and rope. She takes her mirror, hiding it in her palm, and uses it to look around the corner of each hallway she comes to. 

(Raw rolls. Nat 20 stealth, 5 history....to see if she knows how to get out of this airship... Lol)

Delilah expertly moves throughout the inner hallways of the ship. Unfortunately she find a dead end that leads her nowhere. 

She turns around and retraces her steps back to where she came from only to have to cultists around the corner.

Slipping her left hand in her robe toward the hair picks, she keeps her hood down. Trying to act as nonchalant as possible, she waves casually with her right hand as she makes to pass them.(24 deception)

One of the cultists looks at her funny and scowls. "Whaddaya lookin at?"

The other one responds in kind with a jeering voice. "Yeah, weirdo. Flippin Initiated..."

 She presses onward without worrying about them, knowing full well they are either making rounds or checking in on that hostage room... She has limited time either way.

Learning from that encounter though, she changes her demeanor to be more stanfoffish and quiet in case she comes across more. (29 deception!)

(19 history) Delilah hurries as quickly and carefully as she can to where she thinks the exit to the deck might be.

Delilah makes her way down the hallway and it is quiet and without issue at first... Until another cultist comes around the corner. When they see her they wave and smile, and say, "Hi there!"

Kind of taken aback, she opens her mouth and closes it, not sure what to say and not sure about her voice strength.

She smiles kindly back instead, waving, but acting like she is in a hurry still. (21 deception) She tries to casually continue onward.

Delilah turns down a small hallway that leads to a set of stairs going up. She turns the latch on the door that leads outward. All of a sudden she hears....

"THE PRISONER ESCAPED! THE PRISONER ESCAPED! TWO DEAD IN THE HOLDING CELL!" 

She also hears booted feet running her direction.

Trying not to panic, Delilah grabs her hidden bag of metal beads and empties half the bag down the stairs. 500 ball bearing-sized marbles tumble down the corridor. 

She shoves the door open and steps outside as if... Perhaps a cultist looking for an escaped prisoner. She glances this way and that, trying to take in her surroundings quickly. (6 perception)

As she's standing outside looking this way and that a cultist slams directly into you not watching where he or she is going. When they get their bearings back, they take a look at her, and realize she is not one of them.

But Delilah recognizes the face, the smile, from the train ride in Alwyn... And when she first got kidnapped.

"Why hello there, little mouse. Nice to see you're doing so well for yourself." He grins, "Bye bye."

Surprised, Delilah stumbles off to the left in momentary fear. Then her eyes flare in both terror and anger. Sure she can't outrun him on a ship this size, and still holding tight to her hair picks, she whips them out and rushes the man, aiming for his neck. 

"Y...you messed with th' w...wrong mouse!!" (19 raw roll... 24 attack)

He manages to juke to the right and you get him in the left shoulder. He then hisses between his teeth, and retaliates with a sneering grin saying, "Wow, little mousey has a bite! I like it!"

He draws his own set of daggers from within his sleeves. (24 against ac 15)

He lunges forward, stabbing her in the right shoulder and the left hip. 

"We can't get you too bloody now, can we?" (Con save please!)

(11........crap)

She buckles a bit, drawing in a gasping choke at the pain. Her eyes rolling angerly, she grabs the front of his robes, struggling to get her weapon free to try to stab him again. (15 raw roll...)

Delilah begins to feel a numbness flow throughout her body from the points where he has stabbed her in the shoulder and in the hip. It spreads quickly, following through her bloodstream all the way from the from the entrance wounds to the tips of her toes, the top of her head, and her fingertips. She suddenly go completely numb and is unable to move her body. She falls to the ground... And she is paralyzed.

He goes down with her, kneeling to her side and opening a vial very quickly with one hand, popping the top off with his thumb. He drops liquid down her throat, force-feeding her the same alchemic liquid as before.

"We wouldn't want you squeaking for help, little mouse..."

Still feeling the excruciating stab wounds numbly through the haze of body paralysis, her mind struggles to swim back into focus. 

Delilah tries to grit her teeth in vain, attempting to choke out the disgusting, bubbling, burning liquid as the cultist holds her jaw open. As it takes affect, she struggles to cry out, "Ne--N--" before she can say no more. Tears of pain, frustration and anger roll down her cheeks.