Evacuate This, part 3

Log Info

• Title: Evacuate This, part 3
• Emitter: Whirlpool
• Characters: Dirk, Eztli, Gramarye, Nemori, Robert, Jay
• Place: On the Road to Alexandria
• Time: Thursday, June 23, 2022, 10:13 PM
• Summary: With all the villagers on the wagons, the caravan moves out. The adventurers take up guard positions, staying vigilant. Nemori nurses some dark thoughts for the Oruch that delayed them, while Dirk and Bob talk about the 'good ol' days' and how old they really are. Gramarye is confused over some of their statements, which Eztli explains as a joke, so the construct tells her chicken-related one. The road is blocked by a flock of stoned goats. Stoned, as in turned to a statue. The immediate area is watched as road clearing efforts are undertaken. The conclusion is, it isn't a cockatrice, could be a Gorgon, but also could be a basilisk, a medusae, or a few spells to say nothing of random magical accidents. Oddly, there are no tracks for the goats. Mystery Unsolved, but the road clear, the caravan starts moving again. Then they hear chickens...

Good news, everyone! The evacuation is now truly under way and you're on the move. With the last of the civilians being pushed out of their homes, you've successfully got things going again.

Gurocco did spend a little time getting his constructs back in place, just in case, but then the old orc is on his way, nattering to Robert the whole time about the good old days of the War.

Dirk rides along with the others on his pony. It's no use for a dwarf to try and keep up with tallfolk on foot, so he doesn't even try. His owl Lulu perches on his shoulder, her wide-eyed gaze staring down at Gurocco as she headtilts from side to side. As if seeing the old mecha-pilot from differing angles might help her understand his meaning. It probably isn't working--not that Dirk understands the orc's meaning either. Still, his banter with Robert brings an amused chuckle to the old snowbeard's lips. "Oh ho ho... oh, isn't that adorable. You young lads an' yer war tales." He puffs up his burly chest. "Why, I was trappin' bear an' outsmartin' foxes afore you lads were a twinkle in yer pappy's eye!" He's trying to keep things lighthearted. After all they -did- beat the orc up pretty soundly. And it's never any fun having to leave one's home, no matter the reason.

Eztli is not much help loading up the last of the things for evacuation. Too small to carry much, but she's at least able to make sure everyone is accounted for and on the right path with their supplies. The small sith-makar was presently appearing to be asleep in the back of a wagon, just with a cocked, but unloaded crossbow next to her. In reality, she was listening to the stories being shared, not that she would admit such.

The mannequin-wizard keeps close to her compatriots from the Ilife Smithy. She doesn't speak unless prompted to and hardly moves unless needed. Which might be for the best, all things considered, or else Gramarye might have to introduce herself and her long-winded name again to anyone new who comes up to her.

Jay is lots of help loading up. Lots of help. He doesn't lift, but the loud egalrin seems to be everywhere giving instructions on how boxes should be placed, or tied down, accompanied by some very enthusiastic wing-waving.

Once that mission is accomplished, he takes a position on the headboard riding shotgun as a relief driver. It also makes for a decent look-out perch, which he does.

Nemori opts to walk. Perhaps it's to make sure there's room for people who need it more. Perhaps a part of her is turning over a new, charitable leaf. People who know her better.. well... know better. She, too, walks relatively close to Robert. Some steps behind, in fact. Which also puts her behind Gurocco. Giving her ample time to study his armor. Looking for weak points. Small gaps between the plates and the gears and the hoses that might be large enough for the slim point of a rapier.

It's just an exercise in thought, of course. Now that they're FINALLY moving everything should be okay, right?

Of course, if the orc were to die before the wights got here, it's not like they could turn him into a wight at that point, right?

Nemori sighs to herself, lamenting some of the perks she's been forced to give up.

The Cerenzan enjoyed a brief stint in the military in his younger days, drumming out to follow other passions after only a handful of years. Still, it's enough to hold familiar conversation with the old oruch bolstered by their shared interests. His Dragonieri cloak is an obvious heirloom. Has he mentioned his daughter-in-law is an oruch? Bought him his magic gloves. Can't see them under the fists, of course.

The middle-aged human just smirks good-naturedly at Dirk's comment. "I think I've heard this one before; back when you could only walk uphill in the mountains no matter which way you turned? And everything was ice. Softest thing you had to eat was frozen granite?" He grins toothily, crows feet spilling out from the corners of his blue eyes. "There are a couple Khazad-aul that enjoy sharing stories of their childhood before the Sundering when we're having our community meetings..."

Dirk chortles amusedly at Robert, nodding his head. "Aye, that's right!" he says. "An' we were -grateful- fer that granite! Growin' dwarves need plenty o' minerals in their diet, after all! All this wicked greatness dinnae come out o' nowhere, ye know!" He thumps his burly chest with a grin. He peers ahead on the road. "We're makin' good time. Should be back in Alex in no time, I'll warrant."

The conversation between Robert and Dirk grabs Gramarye's attention, her obsidian eyes 'blinking' with light before she says, "Inquiry: dwarven offspring require a diet of rocks for a nutritionally complete upbringing? I have no record of such in my memory banks."

Another blink in her eyes. "Unless this is a form of humor known as a 'jape'. They are popular in social settings and casual gatherings, but not on evacuation missions."

The bluejay is looking around. Sharp eyes focused on the trail ahead, and the horizon. However, as a chatterbox bird, he can't help but pay attention to the conversations around him, so his head keeps flicking back to watch them.

Moments during which he can't help but notice Nemori. Walking. Scowling. Occasionally moving her hand to her rapier hilt, then letting it drop away. He's not sure she's even aware she's doing it.

Integrity C Truefeather, esquire, the 'C' is for compassionate, calls out. "Hey Lady Nemori, want to ride up here for a bit? You don't need to walk so much, you're not fat. Now Bob, Bob needs to walk, but you could rest. Don't want to be tired if there's a fight."

He pats the headboard seat invitingly. Dry, warped, splintery, no cushions, it's the height of adventuring comfort. "Or I could hop down and walk with. You could talk about techniques."

Nemori's head twitches a little bit when Jay calls out to her. She looks at him, then at the orc's back. Not exactly longingly... no. She shakes her head, grinning enough for her white teeth to show against her dark skin, then she nods in Jay's direction. Her hand, instead of falling upon her rapier, goes to her pocket instead as she hurries her pace enough to get to the wagon and swing herself up into the seat beside the Egalrin. "Thank you, Integrity. I fear certain entertainments do not bring me the joy they once did."

Eztli couldn't keep trying to rest, it wasn't happening, and she was better served by paying attention to her surroundings. "Hmm? Oh yeah, things are going well, but we can't jinks it."

"No, they don't need to eat rocks, they just like to say that because it gives a reason for why they're as stubborn as them." The small makari chuckles.

She looks back to those behind her, and tilts her head. "Nemori, I know you're an elf and all, but isn't Gurocco a bit old for you?" She teases, giving the cleric a sharp toothed grin.

"Muse' grace, IC," Bob laughs in exasperation. "I'm not fat. My alchemist says my humors are in exceptional balance for a man of forty-*chrmkmble*--" he raises an oversized gauntlet to mumble into-- "years of age. You just reach an age where things want to be... closer to Ea," he adds, gesturing with a sweep towards the ground.

A glance is given to Grammy along with a renewed smile. "It's important to stay alert, Grace, but we old hands are darned if we can't spin a yarn or two." He winks and gives a little hop, shifting the weight of his pack, then rolling a shoulder and the large pauldron swaddling it.

"You kids be nice now," he adds with a chuckle, looking between Eztli and Nemori. "Anyone need a snack? Water?"

Bob goes back to scanning the roadside as they walk.

Dirk can't stop the eyeroll at Gremayre. "Beards o' me fathers. No, o' -course- we don't eat rocks. It was, as ye say, a joke. A jest. A jape. Just tryin' tae keep the mood light, nay?" Lulu twists her head around to peer at the golem, fluffing up her feathers and tilting her head. "Hoo-hoo," is all she has to add to the matter. Robert is given a glance and a rumble of laughter. "Only fourty-hrmhahhrmmhuh? Ohh, boyo. Oh, my sweet summer child. I could have -grandchildren- older than you! If, ye know, I ever -had- grandchildren." Lulu twists her head back around, ruffling her feathers at Robert. Headtilt. Blink blink. "Hoo hoo."

"My apologies," Gramarye says, although the tone doesn't actually sound very apologetic. "I was not programmed as a comedian's assistant but as an artificer's assistant. Father had to explain jokes to me. Apparently this does not make them funny anymore once you have explained the joke."

There's a beat, before she says. "I will recite my favorite joke. Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Oh! Yes. Yes! I'd like some water, and a snack, and Nemori wants water. Everything except her teeth are sucking up the sun!" Integrity shares happily, making space and crowding the actual driver so the Mul'niessa has more room.

He continues taunting Bob, "I heard about that, it's the furniture disease, when your chest falls into your drawers, right? And your stomach dunlopped over your belt?" The bluejay is helping. Trying to.

Bright, avian eyes suddenly focus on Gramarye with sunbeam-like intensity. "Whyyyyy...."

The column of civilians and their wagons are moving forward at a fine pace, now. With even a small military escort, and yourselves, the chances of anyone being stupid enough to try to bandit it is ... remote.

The wights are a differnt matter, of course, as is ...

"Hooooold up," calls a voice from up front of the line.

"We've got a problem."

Naturally, this brings you forward to where you can see the problem yourselves. Up ahead in the road, there appaears to be a herd of goats.

...well, it *was* a herd of goats. They appear to have been petrified, what, with all their lingering around the roadway as a bunch of statues. Goat statues.

All over the road.

"Do Dwarves dream of Granite Goats?" Jay says randomly, surveying the obstructions.

Dirk reins in his pony as the column is called to a halt. He tips back the brim of his tricorne, blinking as owlishly as his companion as he stares at the statues. Slooooowly he turns to regard Jay and headtilts. And they say people don't resemble their pets. "No. No, I cannae say as we do," he says. He draws his thunderbelcher from its saddle-holster, racking the slide with a glower. "Either there's -some- manner o' dread beastie about, or someone's playin' a -verra- elaborate joke on us," he grumgbles.

Gramarye's joke module has been activated. It cannot be stopped.

"To reach the other side," Gramarye says.

A beat.

"It's my favorite joke because it is *BAAAAWK*ing hilarious." It's a perfect imitation of a chicken noise.

The mannequin-wizard shifts around now that her joke has been completed. "Activating search module," she announces. "Casting... detect magic."

The incantation is said and the magic is cast. Gramarye's eyes turn a glowing blue, almost like sapphires in the right light.

Nemori stiffens a little bit at the makari's teasing after settling in beside Jay (and certainly not complaining about the extra space he provides.) "Eztli," she says, her voice calm.. perhaps deceptively calm. But Robert said to play nice. "I would sooner dandy with a.." Whatever she was going to say is lost as her eyes settle upon the petrified herd. "I do not see a problem. Push them over, move them out of the way. The only problem we will have is if we are delayed any longer and we are happened upon by the undead."

"Let's keep the good people back for a moment," Bob offers as he pats one of the guards at the lead of the caravan. "We'll clear the road after we make sure there isn't something ongoing..." he adds, sliding his domed helmet down into place. The titanic suit ambles forward but stays beyond the edge of the petrified herd.

"Don't think I ever heard of wighs doing such a thing..?" His shoulders turn and the little eyeslits in the dome consider Nemori, then Gramarye. "Thoughts?" He turns again to consider Eztli, Jay, and Dirk.

GAME: Gramarye rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (8)+10: 18
GAME: Eztli rolls knowledge/arcana: (20)+4: 24
<OOC> Robert says, "If Eztli's got it, I won't roll!"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "By all means roll :)"
<OOC> Whirlpool says, "No one person knows everything, after all!"
GAME: Robert rolls Knowledge/Arcana: (18)+14: 32
<OOC> Eztli says, "now I get showed up :("
GAME: Jay rolls knowledge/arcana: Trained Use Only: 0
GAME: Nemori rolls knowledge/arcana: Trained Use Only: 0
<OOC> Nemori says, "You know more than the most of us, Ez."

"Yes!" The bluejays crows, looking at Nemori, "You're absolutely right. Whatever did it is long gone and we have to keep moving. I'll do that."

Without much more warning, Integrity moves into the herd of unfortunate ungulates. He attempts to pick one up. This doesn't go well. Instead he settles for 'walking' it, by rocking it side to side and pushing it towards the edge of the road. "Are they all looking in the same direction? That would be where a creature that did this would have been, unless it was an area effect spell. They would be looking in all directions if that was the case."

"Anyone see a shepherd? Hey, maybe the shepherd did this, stones his flock for the night so they don't wander off. Except, well, middle of the road seems a bad place to park your goats." Jay looks up, part-way through walking another goat off the road, "Oh, uh... you wanted to look around first? I didn't see anything in the bushes."

"Think anyone would want to buy these?"

"They could be used as siege ammo, fired into a city. It would be like firing dead animal corpses, but better because they wouldn't rot and couldn't be eaten. Well, not without reversing magic." Jay speculates, looking over at Dirk," Anything like that happen in your wars?"

"Hmm? Oh no, I'm fine, I have a waterskin on me, and I don't eat much. Thank you very much for the consideration, though." Eztli replies to Robert, waving off the offer, before she snorts at the joke. "That was a good impression, Gramarye. Is that a recording, or were you able to replicate a chicken like that? Such an upgrade must be worth a poultry sum, after all."

The small makari pouts for a moment as Nemori moves to sit up front. But the grin quickly returns as she rests her chin in her hands. "Oh? do tell, I'm curious what your type is." The small makari chuckles, only for it to die off as she looks past to see the statues.

"Everyone, be very careful. If you see anything in the forest edge, then we need to move. Jay, you don't see any bite marks on the goats, do you? If there are signs of punctures or wounds, which I don't think there would be, I read about this back in Dragonier, various sources of petrification. There's too many at once for it to be a cockatrice. If any of you see what looks like a bull nearby, get as far away from it as possible. There might be a gorgon wandering around these woods." She warns.

People are hanging back. The civilians are nervous, yes. Goat statuary forest is weird.

GAME: Gramarye rolls Perception: (6)+2: 8
GAME: Eztli rolls perception: (20)+5: 25
GAME: Dirk rolls Perception: (15)+9: 24
GAME: Jay rolls perception: (7)+14: 21

"The goats would hear a gorgon coming, wouldn't you think," Bob offers, voice tinny inside his helmet. "But to catch so many in a swath the gorgon's breath seems more likely than the bite of a cockatrice." The armored suit takes a few steps closer to the treeline, the man within attempting to pierce the shade and shadows. "It's such an oddly... prosaic scene."

The group can't see the middle-aged human nod along with Eztli inside of the helmet. "A large, metallic bull. Roughly the size of an auroch. Not usually known for their stealth."

Having just recently settled on to the wagon's bench, Nemori has no real interest in climbing back down again so soon. "I am not nearly inebriated enough to go into the details of my wilder youth, Eztli," Nemori tells the makari, having calmed down once again. While the others move to investigate, she leans forward and rests her chin in her hands, elbows on her knees. "Perhaps it was a mad sculptor with a passhion for goats."

"It is a recording," Gramarye informs Eztli. "Father thought it was funny when I told that joke to him. I heard it from a young man who visited the shop quite often. He never bought anything but wanted to watch me work."

The explicit discounting of cockatrices results in a 'blink' in Gramarye's eyes again. "Are you certain of your assessment?"

"A metallic, shiny bull, and it's called a Gorgon? Are you sure? I don't see anything that big, or shiny." Jay says, looking around, off the road, back at the goat statuettes. He grabs another one and rock-walks it to the edge of the road where he lets it topple into the ditch.

"I think they would be more toppled over if a sculpture dropped his work." The egalrin speculates, "Also they're not very appealing, up close. You get to see everything. It would be a very mad, passionate, sculpture to carve all these burrs in the hide." Burrs, and worse. Rock, rock, rock, "Off you go goatee."

"You should try your chicken call again, Gramarye. If it is a cockatrice that will draw it out. Allegedly." Maybe even the bull. Cows and Chickens go together, right? "Well there's no sign of violence on this goat, nor damage. They never saw whatever was coming their way, and then suddenly were statuary."

That's not foreshadowing at all.

Dirk swings out of the saddle and trundles over to the statues. He peers over them, running his fingertips over the stone. "I'm nae seein' any sort o' bite or stinger marks," he grumbles, tugging his beard thoughtfully. "No sort o' entry wound of any kind. Whatever stoned these poor goaties... it caught 'em by surprise." Lulu hop-hop-hops down Dirk's arm and wings over to one of the goat heads. She headtilts back and forth, then peck-pecks at the stone. Ah, a caterpillar. Someone -did- mention snacks, and she's an owl of simple tastes. "I'm nae really likin' our odds wi' all these villagers," he says, looking worriedly over his shoulder. "Anything what can catch these goats off-guard might could do the same tae -us-. An' I've no real interest in gettin' stoned any time soon."

"An entire swath of civilians could get caught that way with no way to fix it, and left here conveniently to warn us about it. I don't like it," remarks one of the officials travelling with you. The civilians are staying back. Some have taken to hiding in their wagons.

"Well, maybe I can buy you some drinks when we get back to town? Not the time, though, and we need to get back to town for that." Eztli sighs as she hops up over the edge of the carriage to look at the statues. "No, these weren't attacked by a cockatrice. Cockatrice spread petrification by their bites, and it spreads outwards from there. These look like they were petrified all at once, and not from any injuries."

"I don't know if we can deal with it if it is a gorgon. But we might not have a choice, it seems. Unless we can draw the thing away and get the civilians past, but that's asking for trouble, too."

"Well, are Gorgon's smart? Would one block a road and then lurk waiting for a vehicle to travel by. That's some planning." Jay says, continuing his efforts to clear the road one goat at a time. "I can go have a careful look around."

He laughs, "if I don't come back, you'll know I found something, and Nemori might smile."

"Not seeing any signs of prints or tracks, either," remarks one of the guards, looking over the goats, "... not even goat tracks, actually."

It's true, now that you're looking. There are no goat tracks.

"IC--" Bob turns from where he's looking into the wilderness beyond the roads. "No, stay. If this is a gorgon, I don't want you out there alone."

Robert sighs and steps back, waving folks forward. "Let's clear the road. Keep an eye out. Don't clump up." The articulated gauntlets flex and he steps over to the first goat statue to lift it up.

"I will not make the chicken noise again," Gramarye says in reply to Integrity. "It is loud and I do not want to attract attention to us. It is a tactically unsound maneuver."

Her head pivots to Dirk's direction. "I am told some organic lifeforms enjoy being stoned," Gramarye say. "I am unclear by what manner of the term that people find it enjoyable, however. There is imbibing mind-altering substances, and then there is gratification by--"

Robert gives the order and Gramarye nods. "Understood," she replies. She follows orders. That is what she is programmed to do.

"If you think I might smile at that, Integrity, then you have yet to understand me at all," Nemori says, her words sharp. Then she sighs and climbs out of the wagon to assist with clearing the road. She is slight, like most elves, but days in the forge have toughened her up enough to be of some use here, at least. "Perhaps they will be easier to move if we break them into little pieces first."

"There are no tracks." Jay says, observing the now obvious. He repeats, "There are no tracks. How did they get here? They weren't dropped from a low-flying airship, unless it was really low. They would have broken legs."

He turns his head from side to side, examining the scene and the layout. "A teleport mishap? With some wild chaos magic that also turned them into stone goats? Someone levitated them over?"

The egalrin surveys the scene once more, "are they arranged in any kind of meaningful pattern?"

Then he snaps his fingers, "I know! Tarienites have been here. Allegedly."

He deflates a little, pulling in his wings as he gazes at Nemori, "But they're nice statues, and they might be turned back. If we break them up, they'll be dead. If we had more time we could load them in the wagon for lawn ornaments."

"No, Robert is right. Don't go out on your own, that wouldn't help, and we wouldn't be able to help you." The small makari sighs as she holds up one hand. "I didn't stop to consider that, though. Why would they be here, if they were not moving around? Maybe the road doesn't catch their hoofprints." Eztli shrugs. The small makari is at least attempting to drag one of the goat statues away, which is mostly just awkwardly wobbling the goat back and forth to move it. "We could break them, but all the fragments might just damage the wagon wheels anyways."

"We should spread out a little more, though, to avoid being caught in a group?" suggests one of the military men, glancing towards the others. "... could be what whoever put this here wants us to do."

"..ugh."

Still, there's no difficulty clearing the road, the statue-goats are put to the side where they can judge you with their weird creepy goat eyes. Rock goat eyes. You begin to pass over where they were when there is a distant clucking sound.

Chickens? Perhaps. Cockatrice? Maybe.

Or it could be that Gramarye found a rooster looking to mate. Either way, *something* is out there in the darkness.

Gramarye: "Please do not mate with me."

"It seems odd to go to the trouble of teleporting these here," Bob muses as he shifts the stoned goats out of the way. "At least one of us would've had to see through an illusion." He grunts, voice echoing, and again pauses to consider the wilderness stretching out on either side of the road.

"It's rather exacting detail for it to be some sort of stone shaping..?"

The artificer considers some of the townsfolk, walking closer and opening his helm. "How often is this road used? Could these have been here for some time?" He's running thin on ideas.