They waited in a side room until after the bouts began, knowing that they would have a little more freedom in their movements with the Master and all of his cronies fully occupied instead of running around trying to finish a last detail here or there. The other Ylveryans delivered food and drink during that time as well, as originally planned.
Virryn and Kre waited for a bit to ensure that the guards would be busy with their dinners and therefore hopefully less likely to stop eating just to question them.
“Are you ready?” she asked, feeling nervous herself but not visibly shaking as Kre seemed to be. As she had before, she wondered just how such an innocent young man had ended up as a part of such a hardened adventuring crew. She reminded herself that this childlike adventurer had fought off a powerful, tier one ranked arena fighter on his own and her hope in the success of this venture was restored.
Kre certainly didn’t feel ready, and he didn’t trust his voice enough to audibly answer so he just nodded. He also clenched the basket tighter in hopes that he could make his hands stop trembling.
It didn’t work. In fact, he had to eventually set the basket down to keep the illicit contents from clinking together too loudly.
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, focused on the next step in their newly formed plan, and released it slowly. “I’m ready,” he replied in a calm, clear voice.
Virryn smiled warmly, relief washing over her. This was the kind of adventurer that her people needed. She hefted her basket up a little higher and nodded, indicating Kre should open the door so they could begin. He did so and picked his own basket up to follow, this time with none of the soft clinking of weapons to indicate that his hands were again trembling.
His nerves were put to the test as they walked past two guards standing outside of one of the rooms they used as a prison cell. These two were engrossed in their platter of meats and cheeses and only gave them the barest of looks until it was clear that there was no indication that the two servants would be bothering them.
Their destination was a room much farther down the hall, where the more valuable slaves were kept, including the Dweorvkin. The distance between the two cells worked to their benefit as any noise resulting from their actions likely wouldn’t carry to this far. The only unknown so far was where the mobile guards would be when things got started.
They didn’t have to wait long to figure it out. In front of the other cell were six guards, not the standard two. The dinner platter was off to the side, untouched, and four of the guardsmen were conversing quietly off to one side while the other two stood sentry in front of the door.
All conversation stopped and all eyes turned to Kre and Virryn. As the hallway ended here, it was clear that the two of them intended to be here and all six guards waited to find out why.
“Pardon sirs,” Virryn said, lowered her eyes as was required of her. Kre followed suit, two steps behind and to the right of Virryn. His hands felt both cold and sweaty at the same time, and an odd feeling washed over him where his fingers itched to wrap themselves around the hilt of a blade.