PrP: Robots!
"Yep, I think we gotta job for you." The pot-bellied giantborn hunched over the desk clutches a sheaf of papers, diminutive in his platter-sized hands. His hair, thin and greying, clings to his head like a thin layer of stringy, unfortunate toothpaste. "You guys look like you could do with some, erm..." His golden eyes flick up and down over the assembled party, lingering distastefully on each member. "...easy work."
Leaning over, he flicks a switch on his desk. A buzzing crackle of electro-magical energy flickers over hidden speakers, and gruffs, "Send in that Lothario fella. Got his crew for him." The switch is flicked back off, and he drops the pages on their edge, straightening the pile. He keeps eyeing the party. Clearly, the giant-born has better things he could be doing -- or at least he thinks so.
A long lance rises up from somewhere in front of the giantborn's desk, and raps smartly on the edge. "Do not underestimate us, sir!" the gnome says shrilly from just out of the Giantborn's sight, waggling his lance dramatically in the air, "We have the Great and Powerful Donk on their side! There is no task too difficult for us!"
A low, almost musical chuckle comes forth from the lips of the slender elven ranger, flashing a brilliant smile to the Giantborn, "Indeed, underestimating us may be a mistake, however, perhaps it is all the better for the client that he gets a group that is.. Overqualified for his needs. " Looking now to the others Wren nods to each of them in turn, "Of course, we'd also appreciate being filled in on just what those needs are."
The smallest of the humans here remains quiet, standing a pace behind her church elder while her bespectacled face turns this way and that to observe those gathered. The giantborn's less than flattering demeanor merely has Qat's large eyes settling on him. "Serriel l-loves even you, sir. Be of good cheer." she says quietly, making a holy sign of blessing in the air to him.
Gragnar looks up at the giantborn, towering over the rest of his party. The mighty and powerful Donk most of all, a solid foot on even the next tallest of them. "I like the 'ittlekin's spirit," he comments to the Giantborn in his heavily accented tradespeech, the voice as gruff as his appearance. His ponytail swings lightly as he turns this way and that, looking at the other members of the assorted band of mixed nuts.
Quiet and serious to the point where one might think she had perished on her feet and only the lockup of the muscles keeps her standing, Ashlynn watches their giantborn employer in that slightly unnerving, entirely-too-focused way people often do when they don't completely trust each other and have a slight deficiency in the social skills department. She's been silent ever since the gathering's start - the only companionable gesture had been paid to the two Serrielites, a very deep and respectful nod of the head. Now? Now she's waiting. For specifics. Or perhaps orders, given the way she's standing at attention. Her back's so straight it's making the wall jealous.
The giantborn is being watched by Teppus who, conveniently, is right over there with Qat, actually. He nods in agreement with her statement about Serriel's love and then adds, "Easy work. Right. Why do I have a feeling it's not gonna be really that easy? All right. We'll do what you pay us to do." And make sure nothing explodes.
The giantborn clerk flicks his eyes between the party members, grunting as he waits. "Yeah, yeah," he mutters to Wren, though apparently, he's yet unforthcoming about details. How... polite? Instead, he leaves the uncomfortable silence to fester for stretches of minutes, until it's finally interrupted by a polite knock on the door.
"Ah, em, ahem, em, this is my group?" Standing in the doorway behind you lot is a rather //short// egalrin. Perhaps only half a foot taller even than Donk. His feathers are a dull grey-blue, his eyes wide, silvery-colored, and greatly magnified behind enormous, thick round lenses perched precariously on his beak. He's dressed in a suit of dark-hued finery, complete with coat-tails and shiny black shoes that seem to be way too big for him. "Ah, hello, ah, I am Lothario Kee'yar. I, um, trust Mister Gront filled you in on your duties?" The fidgety little egalrin wrings his talons, gaze flicking from person to person, and finally to the gruff giantborn clerk, before his beak clicks together in a frown. "No? Ah... well... o-okay then.
"I am-- was-- servant to my master, Sanzen the Brave." He pauses, waiting for recognition. "Surely you've heard...? W-well... he, ah, he passed away in his sleep recently, and ah, well... he left all his... ah, //things//." He gives the party a very significant look. A look he expects people, somehow, to understand, apparently.
The corners of Qat's eyes crinkle at the stiff human with the longbow, the priestess returning her nod with a Xian-style greeting, fists clasped together as she bows. Comfortable in the silence, the Serrielite's lips move in silent commune with the divine until when Lothario shows. Feeling an immediate kinship with the Egalrin for wearing glasses almost as thick as hers, Qat moves closer to hear what the feathered person has to say. A frankly blank look meets his mention of Sanzen and she glances questioningly to Teppus, hoping he has some inkling who this person might be.
Donk taps Gragnar's shoulder approvingly with his weapon. "And the Donk like your bulk. You'll make a wonderful distraction." The metal-clad gnome settles his lance against his shoulder, turning with a heelclick towards the door. "Mister Gront was too terrified to be confronted by such magnificent heroes, that he lost his tongue. It's alright, it happens now and again." He reaches up to pat the edge of the desk. "Nothing to be ashamed of." Donk just gives Lothario a blank look, though. The egalrin is talking about something besides Donk's many, many fantastic achievements, or money. He's starting to lose interest...
Wren quirks a brow faintly at the Egalrin, and she shakes her head just slightly, "Where are we taking you and the... Goods? I have never heard of your master, I'm afraid, but with a name like that, in his sleep, it would seem is not exactly how he would have wanted to perish.. Unless there's something you aren't telling us?"
"Ya want us to get 'em back?" Gragnar wonders, crossing his arms across his broad chest, using his slightly protruding belly as a rest. "Where'd he leave 'em?" A momentary pause. "And why do ya need us?" Turning to regard the befeathered newcomer, her soles scraping gently against the floor as she swivels more than turns in the direction, Ashlynn regards the group's avian employer for a long moment before speaking. Her voice comes out in perhaps slightly strained, measured manner, a person more used to listening than talking: "I do not understand. Please, explain."
Subtlety? Beating around the bush? Doesn't look like that's much of her deal. But at least she's polite? Her face is blank, suggesting she is indeed puzzled - but then again, it WAS quite blank before, and the difference is difficult to note.
The Egalrin is eyed for a moment. Teppus pauses. Then he says, "You're... Lothario. Okay, then. Yes, we've been told what we are to do." Then he looks at Qat. Then back at the others. Then back at Qat again. He leans down and then whispers to her, a little too loudly, "Why do I have a suddenly bad feeling about this?"
He has to lean down a ways.
"Ah, well, see-- no, no, that's not it, no. That's not it at all. I have the, ah, 'goods,' shall we say," the egalrin says, shaking his little feathered head. It seems he's molted into a bald spot in the back there. Only one tiny, bent feather remains. "But you are correct, my Master Sanzen wasn't the type to pass in his sleep, but he... he was old, and he retired years ago." Lothario pauses, plucking his glasses from his beak to breathe on the lenses, and carefully wipe them off with a kerchief from his pocket as his feathers ruffle briefly and settle down. His gaze flicks up to Ashlynn, swallowing nervously, before he continues. Bravery is perhaps not his strong suit. "He was an adventurer, for much of his life. My father, gods rest his soul, was his, ah... busom companion, until he perished under a pile of, erm, shall we say, //over-zealous// creatures. Very... ah, very affectionate, those abberations, hmm?
"... But that's beside the point. The point is, he gathered a lot of //things// in his adventures, my master did. Dangerous things. Cursed things. Things... things that might take an egalrin's head off if said egalrin did the wrong thing. Or said the wrong word. Tripped the wrong trigger." He pauses again, all his feathers a-shake as he centers himself. Oh, my. At last, he continues: "So... so I need some big strong adventurers to, ah, sort his estate." Nodding to himself, he sets his thoroughly-scrubbed glasses back to perching on his oversized beak, and he carefully, and rather attentively, folds his kerchief back into a neat square, to tuck into his pocket. "You all seem like fine folks. Fine enough. I'm... I'm sure there's nothing to worry about."
Wren smirks, shaking her head, "So basically, if I understand right, you want us to go in there and sort out your master's loot into stuff that is and isn't safe to be around, because you don't want to do the wrong thing around some of it and get yourself killed, right?"
Staring at the molting (does that count as balding on Egalrin?) birdman for a long moment, the small priestess glances up at her fellow Serrielite, one finger pointing at Lothario, "Because h-he says this in a way that would e-easily let us assume things will go badly and we will a-all die in a series of unfortunate events." She adjusts her glasses, face solemn. "Maybe. Our Stern but Just Mistress has not told me if we should t-tell him to stuff it. Perhaps it is Her will we perform this j-job."
"Ah," Gragnar says, frowning a bit, though it might just be from the way he needs to bend his neck to look down at all the folks talking. It's not easy being green, giant, and somewhat less than jolly.
"Anything dangerous found will be handed over to Eluna's servants, for destruction or safekeeping." Ashlynn says after another long moment of standing there, stock-still, seemingly contemplating the eaglefolk's words, wringing them and poking them and making them walk up and down the lane in her mind. Her own words are not forceful, and truly, were SUPPOSED to form a question - they just forgot, midway through being spilled, to become it. Realizing the fault, she corrects it (in a way) by adding, after entirely too long a pause: "This is acceptable?"
"Maybe it was something you ate," Donk says nonchalantly to Teppus. Narrowing his eyes at Lothario, the gnome struts up towards the nervous bird...thing, with a rustling of metal on metal. Not clanking. Not enough metal to be clanking. Yet.
He comes nose-to-beak on the Egalrin, rising up to his toes to try and glare sternly into his beady eyes. "So you're saying that you are hiring us to go into Zenzen...Senzen...whoever's house, find his treasure hoard, and loot all the pretty valuables?" His eyes glare viciously out from his domed helmet...and his shock-orange beard spreads to show a huge grin. "Well, you should have led with that! Sure, we'll take the job!" he says enthusiatically, slapping Lothario on the shoulder. Precautions? What precautions? There's loot to be had!
"Estate sorting," says Teppus after a moment. "This is normally the sort of thing that we'd leave to the Vardamans, I'd think, but all right. WE can do it. Making sure a man's property is sorted after his death is only proper." He nods his head at this, glancing towards Qat one more time and adding, "You've got that right. Well. Let's see what we can do, eh?" Donk is then eyeballed. EYEBALLED.
Lothario nods eagerly to Wren. "Yes! Yes, ah, yes, that's a good summation. It would be v...very much appreciated, and you would be welcome to a selection from the things you find. After it's sorted, of course. And-- and within reason. It shouldn't be a bother. Please, I'm just at my wits end. I'm not cut out for this kind of thing!" He wrings his talons again, giving the party a pleading, frankly terrified look. And as for Ashlynn's statement, he cringes. "Well -- I -- I will have to do the paperwork, and make sure it has been p-properly documented. Then, ah, yes, I, um, suppose that is okay. Yes." And as they all seem to agree, with varying degrees of reluctance, the egalrin seems to perk up. "Oh, thank goodness. Yes, alright, right this way. A carriage is waiting..."
In no time, the party's been hustled out into the carriage waiting outside the guild. It's very high-class, with gold-gilded corners, feather-down seats... The horses, though, appear to be made of silvery metal sheets, riveted together and decorated with gold leaf. Their eyes glow blue with the magical energy coursing through them, and their hooves have a ghostly blue light dancing about them. When everyone's gathered inside the carriage and ready, they take off, swifter than they appear to be capable of. The ride is very smooth though -- this transportation was clearly designed with comfort in mind.
As the horses clip their way through the city, the party gets a great view of Alexandria whizzing by the elaborately carved windows. They wind their way through busy district after busy district, before the city gives way to a country road, and turning from that road they start down a long driveway. Trees line the road on either side and tangle branches above, providing shade and respite from the sun or precipitation.
"We're almost there," Lothario notes with a little bob of his head, his magnified eyes drawing their pupils to points and back again. Outside, an enormous manor house looms up above the party. It looks like it was once a small house, but over the years, more and more has been built onto it until it's a jumble of rooms, spires, over-jutting windows, and gardens. The carriage draws to a stop, and Lothario hops out, swinging open the door and bowing, to permit the others to exit. Still, it seems that he's not motioning them towards the house, but to the gate besides. <OOC> Harric says, "Kinda like this: http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HhVGrCGT1uE/SF1wyx8EWvI/AAAAAAAAB4E/hPH6bzODUKA/s400/R001-003.JPG But with more ~whimsy~!"
Wren hmms as she dismounts the carriage, looking to the others. "This should be... Interesting. Before we enter, Lothario. Did your master see fit to set traps in his abode to deal with the unwary and would be theives?"
There's a little extra clambering getting into the carriage and getting settled. Donk insists on taking his lance with him, climbing the steps into the carriage and getting settled in a far corner, bouncing a little on the seat, with his weapon poking out the far window. "Plush!" he says with a big smile, "Donk's rump thinks it might be his birthday!" When they arrive, he climbs to his feet, sticking his head out the window to peer up at the house as they approach. "Hmmmm...seems a bit fruity to be a dungeon overflowing with loot..." he mutters as he hops out, nearly beaning a few people with his lance as he goes. After a moment of rubbing the vamplate of his lance, a wolf PINGs into existence beside him, giving its pelt and the chain barding draped over its body a rough shake. The gnome clambers up, dropping his stubby legs astride the tiny mount, lance held upright with a big grin. "Now! We're ready for anything!" he announces, kicking the wolf's sides and setting it trotting after Lothario. Towards the gate?
Qat spends the time in the carriage contraption utterly fascinated and not hiding it. It took effort to dig her small frame out of the clinging, downy comfort of the seats, but once out, she is immediately sticking her head outside of the nearest window, hair flopping in the wind of their passing like some cocker spaniel's black ears. "Th-This is more fun than those floating ships of d-death." she observes to the rest. All too soon for her, the trip is over and there is Serriel's work to be done. Tugging her lacquered mail shirt straight and narrowly being beaned by Donk's lance, she hops down from the carriage car, eyes alight and cheeks aglow. Up, up, up she looks at the haphazardly built manse. "Easterners have interesting tastes in ah-architec... eep!" Caught by surprise at the appearance of Donk's friend, she grasshops to hide behind Gragnar. Warily, she peers around the mountain of green.
Gragnar's ride is not quite so comfortable, owing much to his great size, but he complains little along the way. "Oi like airships, they're fun," he says with a broad grin. He considers the wolf for a moment, then looks about, and begins following the others to the gates. "Ya think it might summon sumthin'?" he wonders of the little bird.
It likely comes as little surprise that Ashlynn keeps to herself during the trip, folded very neatly in her choice seat and mostly looking out the windows (when they are not obscured by Qat, that is) with a very gentle furrow of brows, as if deep in thought - even if her eyes never lose their focus, as one might expect of a person lost in pondering. Does she EVER smile? She gets off the carriage with a small hop (the most exciting thing she's done today), mostly to avoid a flailing lance, and looks over the haphazard-looking manor. Still slightly frowning, still silent. What a ball of grump. Or discipline. Perhaps both. It shatters momentarily, as Ashlynn crouches slightly, hand going to the bow slung over her shoulder at the sudden appearance of a wolf, but not quite finishing the motion of drawing it. It takes her a good while to resume her previous (relative) serenity and posture.
Well, a carriage is great. Teppus is happy to ride in a carriage, though he's now put his armor on and he's clanking loudly around in it, not unlike Qat. Clank, clank, clank. He is alternately fascinated and horrified, actually, by this process. He flails a bit, not s eeming to like it very much, and when Lothario says that they're almost there, there's a palpable and obvious sense of relief from him. The home is eyed and then he just lets out a sigh. "Only in Alexandria, right?" he offers, weakly, before trying to get out of it and onto the street. "Well. Let's get this started, eh?" And he heads towards the gate.
"Well... yes and no," Lothario admits nervously, as he starts to lead them through the gate and into the garden. "The, ah... the other reason I bring you here, is there's a room I just can't get to. It has some of his more astonishing items, trophies, and such... But all I know is that he hid the door and trapped it somehow. You can understand how I'm a little nervous to look!" He wrings his talons and clicks his beak, brushing some tangled vines aside as they dangle from a stone statue of what appears to be a giantborn in the middle of a spinning kick. "B-but I can assure you, I am, perhaps, eighty percent sure that it is not a deadly trap? All I know is if it's tripped, I will be notified and I am to call the authorities. ...O-obviously I won't /today/, of course, since you are /not/ intruders. But-- but you know what I mean."
In the back of the beautifully tended garden is a smaller house -- probably a guest house, as it's by no means a mere shack or shed -- and it's this house that Lothario leads the party to. The diminutive egalrin takes out an enormous ring of keys and flips through them, muttering to himself, and selects a key to clip into the lock. With a click, the door opens, and he gestures everyone inside.
Qat does not clank! She clatters. It's the lacquer. Taking care to keep the more beefy members of the party between herself and the wolf, she follows warily after the rest. Watching Lothario flipping through keys, she pokes her head close to ask, "I do not s-suppose you have a key to the trapped r-room there, too?" Hope springs eternal in the priestess' heart. Wren follows the egalrin quietly, listening to his words, before she looks to the others, "Hmm, well, I don't know about the others, but I'm not exactly.. experienced.. in finding hidden doors... But I guess we can try.."
"Hit the walls until somethin' swings open," Gragnar suggests, possessed of a certain straight-forward kind of wisdom. He has given up on attempting to follow the Egalrin closely, the carriage rough enough on his neck. He stretches and turns, trying to re-limber up after the cramped ride.
Donk is pleasantly and serenely oblivious to the surprise and shock caused by the sudden appearance of his mount. Though the wolf does glance briefly back at Qat's squeak, his tongue lolling out in a happy, lupine smile before he's urged forward into a bouncing trot after their host. His nose is up and about everywhere, the wolf weaving a little, and his upright rider barely seems to notice, eyes straight ahead, affixed on the prize! Wherever that might be. "Traps, eh? Hidden rooms? You were right to call us, then." Donk nods, wisely. "Our party has one of the best loot trackers in the nation. Destroyer!" His wolf mount pauses in front of the door as Lothario gets it open, peering back at his rider, who points dramatically into the house. "Find that treasure!" His mount looks up at his hand...and tries to lick it, before trotting after the people heading into the house.
Ashlynn's own chain armor rattles - though perhaps not as much as one would expect, considering how graceful her movements are, in spite of their purposeful nature. One would think with all the stiffness, she'd move like she were made of wood, but it is not the case. Perhaps the Serrielites, Donk and her could start a band based entirely on armor noises. "I have no experience with traps." she offers plainly to the group, even as she follows them inside the smaller building.
"Do we have *anyone* who knows anything about traps with us? Anyone?" Teppus is lookig back and forth. Then he pauses for a moment. "...well. I know that I am not stepping face first into any of them. I've done that before. It was not pleasent. I don't want to do it again." Then his armor clanks as he moves forward. He's clearly not used to the weight of the plate armor, as it does in fact look quite new. Donk and his wolf are eyed again. Then he adds to Gragnar, "Let's try not to bring down the place around our ears, eh?"
"I'll warn ya if it starts," Gragnar remarks to the shorter man.
<OOC> Donk says, "Which shorter man? XD" <OOC> Gragnar says, "ALL OF THEM!" <OOC> Gragnar says, "Teppus specifically, though."
"My Lady has decreed that I m-must work with a wolf. Her will be done, Her will be d-done." Whispering prayers to herself, Qat's face takes on a determined cast. Oh, the powers of blind faith. Boldly now, she strides after the wolf with the butt of her spear thumping STERNLY onto the ground. She only flinches a bit at the lupine grin sent her way, even. She shakes her head to Teppus' question, "I h-have inkment if it hurts..."
"No, unfortunately," Lothario admits. "I don't even know where it is." He does seem quite apologetic, too. He pushes open the door, scrambling a little with the weight of it as it seems to be quite solid, and he is quite small. The foyer the party steps into is a rather little space, barely accommodating everyone present -- especially with Gragnar taking up room. The walls are quite decorative though, covered in fierce, angular masks, and sweeping paintings from Tien. It would be quite classy, if there were room to properly admire.
Lothario squeezes through the crowd to take pointe again, gesturing. "It's all this way. This way." He leads the party into a hallway where lit glass cases show off suits of armor -- leaf armor, dragonscale, dwarven stoneplate; even some silken armor is displayed, covered in lovely brocade. Each glass case is underlit, and though the armor is all cleaned and polished, it's fairly obvious they've been used extensively. They seem to be in various sizes, however, so it's unlikely a single person used them all. "Just this way, please. Here..."
At the other end of the hallway is a door, and through that door is chaos.
The room is huge, with ceilings vaulted up fifteen feet above. There are empty glass cases everywhere, where clearly things were once on display. Instead there are tables reaching this way and that with items just tossed there indiscriminately. It's a giant heap, really. There are unsorted piles of Things upon Things, but it all seems to center around an enormous knight standing on what looks like a 3x3 chunk of what used to be a huge life-size chessboard. The knight is made half in stone, half in metal, and it stands straight yet relaxed, both hands on a greatsword that stands point-down against the board. Just having a coffee break, it seems. It's covered in dust, but the pile of Stuff around his feet seems to be dust-free.
Wren follows into the room, and she hmms softly, looking at the heap. "Why do I have a bd feeling about this? " with that, she starts to make her way over towards the statue to take a closer look at it.
<OOC> Harric says, "Oh yeah, you're welcome to make rolls at any time if you want >.> Provided they apply."
GAME: Wren rolls perception: (2)+9: 11
"If the wolf strikes at you, I will take care of it, ma'am." Ashlynn supplies to the unsettled Qat. She at least tries to make the words sound reassuring and not too icy-cold, and there's really no doubt that she'd defend the tiny cleric. The honorific is spoken with more force and quite a bit of conviction, too. Definitely militaristic. "I... do not think it will. It looks reasonably friendly, far as wolves go." she adds a moment later, a little more gently, serenely, eyeballing the animal again. Her eyebrow ticks up a bit at the word 'inkment', but she doesn't ask any questions - yet - and simply relegates to following the egalrin about. The frown resurfaces upon her sighting the chaotic pile of unidentified things. "I have little experience with magic, as well." Ashlynn offers matter-of-factly, without much shame. Just in case someone expected her to.
You paged Wren with 'For taking a look at the knight?' Wren pages: yes.
Gragnar does actually look around a little as they walk through, a smile on his lips. The oruch recognizes trophies when he sees them, and seems generally pleased at the collection. At the lack of organization, he looks around with a thoughtful look, trying to pick out anything of particular note. Maybe the hidden door's actually really badly hidden?
GAME: Gragnar rolls perception: (7)+3: 10 GAME: Qat rolls Perception: (18)+4: 22
You paged Wren with 'It appears to be a rather lovely work of modern art, combining stonework with very finely crafted metal. It must be worth a fortune!' You paged Gragnar with 'There seems to be a general chaos to all the piles of stuff. Hard to tell if there's anything of note, though there are a few piles that are taller than most. They mostly correspond with corners, where things are easier to pile.' Wren pages: heh. I'm still not convinced that's all there is to it. I will be looking more closely. Long distance to Wren: Harric grins. Wren pages: considering I rolled a 2. Long distance to Wren: Harric XD
Wren hmms, still looking over the statue, "The craftsmanship on this statue is remarkable.. but I somehow get the feeling there's something more to it.. " with that she continues her examination. GAME: Wren rolls perception: (15)+9: 24 Wren pages: now THAT's more like it for a roll. :)
<OOC> Harric waits for Qat to pose, before giving her the result of her roll. So I know what she's trying to perceive!
Long distance to Wren: Harric grins and will fill you in next round.
Finding herself addressed by the stiff archer, Qat glances up at the tall woman. "Thank you. It d-did smile..." She lifts a small hand, "Ma'am is inefficient. I am Qatalina Qaline Qianru of House Qoulong. Qat is sufficient. A-and you are?" The small moment of introductions is waylaid by the room LOthario leads them into. "My! An uncivilized mess." Qat raises an expressive eyebrow at the scene before them, going so far as to sniff and adjust her glasses. "Mister Lothario, w-were you behind this? Even Nanna would take an entire day t-to clean this, tch." She steps up to the statue, eyeing the dust covering it. "Qurious though..."
GAME: Teppus rolls Perception: (13)+4: 17
"No no! Not my hand, treasure! Find us valuable items! Like gems, gold, magic items, exotic suits of arm--" Looking up, Donk's eyes go wide when he sees the long line of glass cases. His mouth falls open as he stares in starry eyed wonder, his wolf just trotting happily along as they go, so the gnome has to rubberneck to see those prizes. He pats his mount's head lovingly. "Good job, boy! Good job!" "Eh, what? What's this about wolves striking?" Donk pulls his mount up short, slowing down to fall into step alongside Ashlynn, frowning up at her. "You saying something about Destroyer? He's the most loyal steed a gnome could ask for..." The lance whips forward to point at Ashlynn's nose (from a safe distance), "And I'd better not hear you saying otherwise. If you're good, he's friendly as a puppy. But if you're looking for hurt...well, you won't be for long, I'll just leave it at that." With a self-satisfied smirk, he kicks his wolf into motion again, and drifts up beside Qat, who Destroyer sniffs at curiously. Donk's neck cranes back to take in the huge room they're in now, whistling lowly. He pokes at piles of stuff with his lance as he goes by, but he and his mount trot forwards towards the statue itself, with most of the rest of the party. "Hmmm... on a completely unrelated note," he muses, "I have an idea for what I want my statue to look like." His lance raises and he goes to jab the king statue in the eyeball.
GAME: Donk rolls perception: (8)+1: 9
"Hells. They weren't kiddin'. This is amazing." Teppus is looking up and around, walking right along with the others. Dragonscale and dwarven stoneplate definitely draw his attention. He lets out a low whistle. "This... collection is damn well worth a fortune. Hell, I heard stories about dwarves wearin' that stuff. They rode these things that could turn metal to dust with a touch. Called 'em rust monsters or something like that. Terrifying stuff." He looks like he wants to touch the armor, but since it's in a glass case, he settles only for touching that. Then there's the knight and chessboard.
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Hunter's blessings. It is an honor. I am Ashlynn, of the Order of the Silver Arrow." Ashlynn offers a return of the introductions to Qat. These words are familiar to her, and they do not come as seemingly strained as others had. Thankfully, she doesn't try curtsy or bow as part of the introduction - that would be awkward on a cosmic scale - just gives a small salute, a balled hand briefly touched to her chest. With the others flocking about the statue, her own eyes fall to random item assortments - as if daring each of them to be something dark and evil and dangerous. She didn't even stop to explain herself to Donk or Destroyer, just stood there defiantly. How rude!
"Ah, well...no. A good portion was already like this. Master Senzen wasn't the tidiest, and I only got the keys after he..." Sniff. Lothario sighs forlornly, hanging back by the door. "I'm rather too nervous to explore, if you don't mind," the egalrin says, taking out that kerchief to fan himself nervously. "I don't need to lose more feathers than I already have."
Under close scrutiny, the knight statue appears to be of fine and beautiful workmanship, crafted by very skilled hands indeed. The stonework is elaborate, and it seems to melt into the metal in a very believable way, as though it really were a natural creature, made of --
"AHA!" The knight suddenly straightens, and bangs its sword against the chessboard. "Scoundrels attacking the fort, I see? How exquisite!" His fingers tighten on his sword, before he leans in a little to peer through his faceless visor at the gathered party. "Please refrain from assaulting me with your poking sharp things! I have a job to do, you know. Now! Answer me truthfully this -- oh, yes, this is exciting -- be ye robbers or persons of ill-repute?" By all accounts, the knight seems to be, well... cheerful. And more than a little excited. His movements shake the dust from his shoulders as he eagerly looks from face to face.
<OOC> Qat might need to roll fort to see if she faints. *.* <OOC> Harric laughs! <OOC> Donk XD DO IT
GAME: Qat rolls Fortitude: (4)+6: 10
<OOC> Harric says, "You manage -- barely." <OOC> Harric says, "To refrain from fainting, that is." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Adventuring. May not be good for one's heart. :("
Wren takes a step back from the knight statue, looking up at it, "At ease, sir guardian. We are neither theives nor people of ill repute. However, we have been hired to sort the collection of your former master. Unfortunately we have been informed that he has passed on due to old age. Could you perhaps be of some assistance to us?"
GAME: Wren rolls diplomacy: (15)+2: 17
Gragnar looks at the knight, starting back a little at the sudden movement, but straightening shortly thereafter. "I don't go roun' stealin'," the oruch remarks harshly. "I earn wot I have." When Wren seems willing to take over, though, he relaxes somewhat, watching the knight carefully.
Being this up close and personal with the statue, was not a good thing for Qat's peace of mind, for when it suddenly comes to life, her heart almost gives out. As it is, she is stumbling back in shock and will likely land most ungracefully on some of the scattered mess any moment now.
Donk lets out an undignified yelp when the statue suddenly springs to life, though it's drowned out by Destroyer's even /louder/ yelp, and the gnome has to reign back on his mount as it dances away from the suddenly moving statue, who gets a lance levelled at his face. "Devil's nipples!" Donk squawks, putting a hand to his helmet to steady it, and peering at the statue. "What? Robbers? Pish tosh and all that nonsense! You're looking at some of the mightiest heroes in the land! But who might /you/ be, skulking about all...stoney and such?"
<OOC> Wren says, "should also note that i have NOT drawn a weapon."
Wren pages: just thought I should make that clear as it may affect how the knight views what I said.
And, for the first time since they've met her, Ashlynn's expression changes to something that is NOT a frown or soldierly mask: shock. She stares at the suddenly, inexplicably moving stone, hand on the bow and body as tense as said weapon's string. It's a talking statue. The Order never trained her for this. It takes her a bit to gather her bearings, though the tension never really fades. "We are here on a mission." Ashlynn states matter-of-factly, inwardly trying desperately to forget she is, in fact, talking to a statue. It does things to one's sanity, that. You know, it's probably a good thing Teppus is relatively immune to fear, on account of being a paladin. Well, supernatural fear, anyways. He's not immune to having his heart skip a beat at the suden shock of the knight stepping forward.
He's grabbed at the haft of his polearm, but he lets go when it starts..talking. "I will not poke you. Yet. But... we're not robbers. We're here on behalf of an associate of the estate's owner to try to untangle the mess that's been left behind. I am Teppus -- a paladin. This is Qat. We both serve the same noble goddess." He looks at Ashlynn, eyes her, then looks at Donk. Eyes him.
And down goes Qat into the mess, crashing and scattering bits and bobs. Lying where she fell, she stares up into the fifteen foot high ceiling. "Serriel, are You w-wishing to toughen me, or kill me?" she asks plaintively. Teppus' introduction of her to the statue ends up with him gesturing to the floor where she lies.
The knight peers first at Wren, then at each in turn, for a good long time before piping, "Why, I am Sir Cassowary the Wise! And I, strange small-thing, do not /skulk/. I /guard/, and when occasion warrants, I patrol." He pauses, visor shifting a bit in an almost thoughtful gesture. "Not robbers, eh? Well. That's good, then. It is a pleasure to meet you, band of..." He pauses, regarding them each in turn once more, before continuing, ".../very strange/ adventurers!"
After a moment, he resettles in his stance, though he's now taken a straight, military posture. "If ye be not robbers, then ye be strong of heart and glad of mind, then? GREAT! Now, ah, how can I be of service?"
Donk's ears burn from Teppus' stare, but the gnome keeps his firm glare on the statue...until there's a clatter from Qat, and he whips the lance in her direction instead, then back to the statue, peering. Sizing up the massive knight... he smiles finally, and tamps his lance against the floor. "Well! That's more like it! You can start by telling us where all the best loot is hidden."
Wren smiles to sir Cassowary, "Well, sir Cassowary. I would assume that as a guardian of your master's collection, you would be familiar with it? Would you be willing to assist us in sorting it to determin what of it would prove dangerous to the unwary? We have also been informed of the existence of a hidden chamber in which more of his collection is stored, with a concealed entrance., Would you know where that is?" Wren then /glares/ at Donk.
Gragnar looks at Qat, then leans over, pulling them to their feet, giving them a gentle pat on the head before looking back to the statue, then to Donk, examining the tiny creature.
"We are not here to commit larceny." Ashlynn says in Donk's general direction, a good deal of weight behind the reproachful words. Teppus' eyeballing, however, is met with patience and a second salute. "We are employed to uncover and remove any items such as may be deemed dangerous, especially those that may bear traces of darkness. A hidden cache is told to exist that we must also inspect for such objects." the soldierly archer offers to the statue freely and without even a trace of pretense or falsehood. "If you can offer assistance, it would be..." You're talking to a statue. "... very..." STATUE. "... pleasant and accomodating of you." Headache.
When something almost seven feet tall pulls you up, you are PULLED up. Squeaking and flailing a little, Qat suddenly finds herself back on her feet, courtesy of Gragnar. His pats, though well-meaning, almost sends her back onto the floor and she gives him a strained smile of thanks. "S-Serriel bids us to tidy this place, for it is m-messy and needs a good cleaning." she pipes in belatedly to the knightly construct.
Sir Cassowary nods slowly, clanking happily to himself. "Oh! Hidden cache? Why yes, in fact. That is my primary function, guarding that cache." He pauses, though, to eye Donk a little, maybe even a bit suspicious, before he tips his head up at the rest of the party. "Then you're interested in seeking that cache? Excellent! One moment, I've got this well in hand, I assure you. Just a second."
He takes a deep, and quite unnecessary emulated breath, and speaks. "To pass ye here to the trove of treasure, prove me ye have worth of measure." He pauses, asiding quietly to himself, "(Oh, yes, that was quite good. Good show, Cassowary, bang on!)" And then he continues.
"A goodly man (or woman, struth) must show compassion, faith, and truth." Once again he pauses, clearing his throat. "Er, that wasn't the best of rhymes. But, I sally on! Justice, temperance, diligence and hope, with valor, prudence... I know I had a rhyme here. Cope, snope... I'll skip ahead. ...What rhymes with 'sagacity' anyway?" Again he sits back, thinking as he tries to work out whatever rhyme he's got in his head.
Finally he shakes his head, drooping maybe a little. "Okay, quite honestly, here's the thing -- and without rhymes because it's been far too long and I am, forgive the curse, //rusty//. I will permit no scoundrel to Master Sanzen's treasure room. A knight has his code of honor, and so must you! Now why should I let you through? Personally, I mean. What worth do you have to show the Wise and Wonderful Sir Cassowary? Eh? Speak up!"
Wren smiles, and she stands tall upon hearing the words of sir cassowary, "While I am no knight, I am one who seeks not to further my own wealth, but to protect the lives and the future of others. Not so long ago, myself and some others were hired by a sorcerer whom shall not escape my wrath for the things he did. He had kidnapped children in order to test his magical theories.. We released the children and sought to bring him to justice.. though unfortunately we could not prevent his egress using magical means."
<OOC> Wren says, "ok, so it was a Wizard, but I think the words say enough? And they are entirely truth."
"..."
Teppus is staring at the knight for a long time. He stares at it and his expression is clearly one of 'You really have got to be kidding me'. "I can tell you why ou should let me through. You should let me through because I'm a paladin. That's why. I'm here to make sure nothing dangerous falls int othe wrong hands, to ensure its safe for the people who're going to have to figure out who all this belongs to now that the mater of the house has pssed away, and to ensure that nothing bad happens. All of these artifacts are pieces of heritage that belong to *people*. They need to be seen to remind peopel of what's been accomplished by the civilizations of the world."
Donk snorts. "Larceny? No. Looting? Yes! It's what we've been hired for, after all, to gather up Sanzen's estate, hmmm? No need to beat around the bush, about it." When the knight starts to give his speech, Donk lifts his lance against his shoulder, tilting his head back to peer up at the statue from under his helmet. His gaze turns a little blank at all the rhyming, brow furrowing as he tries to follow all this fancy talk. It all comes down to that question of worth, however, and Donk raises and eyebrow. Loudly, the gnome clears his throat. "Worth? My good sir, you have eyes don't you?" He gestures down at himself, as if showing off a fabulous treasure...and then at everyone around him, like it were an afterthought. "Just gaze upon this most fantastic group of adventurers you've ever seen. The sight of us should be proof enough of our worth. Although...you've been trapped in this room for so long, I suppose I can't fault you for not knowing the name..." He salutes with his lance. "The Great and Powerful Donk Yauti!"
"Huh," Gragnar says, considering the knight for a bit, translation taking a little longer than normal for the oruch. Words over 3 syllables. Or at least the way the monk'd pronounce them. "Well, I don know about compassion, but I got faith in me abilities, and I don't lie. Not even when my mates think I should." He looks around for a moment. "Not this lot, other mates. Drinkin'." He clears his throat. "Yeah, offica, it was us. Just havin' a little fun, offica! Oh come on now, the damage isn't that bad, offica," he quotes. See, honest!
"I am Ashlynn, Journeyman of the Order of the Silver Arrow." the stoic woman indeed named so says, straightening fully, a dip of her head indicating the pendant of the order about her neck. "Not blessed by the Light, but in service of it regardless, to seek forces of the Dark and banish them from the world. If there are such influences here, objects bearing those taints, I must see them gone, sir." Her words are calm, with only a little variance in tone - save the last, of course, which is expelled with that habitual, military force - but her jaw is set with determination as she offers them. Still stoically ignoring she's offering them to a thing of cold stone and wrought metal rather than flesh. She'll get used to it all, surely. Eventually.
Slowly recovering from the extreme shock of before, Qat rests a hand over her pounding heart, her throat bobbing repeatedly. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she appears to be gathering her wits about her as she rests a hand on Teppus' pauldron and steps forth. Looking up the knight's towering person, she now rests a trembling, white hand on its own. "Such faithfulness," she whispers, eyes filling. "I serve the church of Serriel and have g-given up my wordly possessions, vowing m-my life to furthering her stern but honorable justice. We are h-here only to tidy this place o-of dangerous things. If a-any would try to claim what is not rightfully theirs, y-you have my word that I will find them naughty in the Guiding Star's sight and smite them with eh-extreme disapproval." She does not look at Donk. At all.
Neither does TEppus, actually. At all. In fact, his expression has gone rather tight as he's trying very hard not to look in his direction.
Sir Cassowary takes another deep, emulated breath, nodding a little here and there. "So I see I have been confronted with great heroes, then, have I?" He nods and lifts his sword in one hand, hefting it with ease.
First, he turns to Wren. "I see you have fought for the welfare of children, and given them succor. Oath to me that for the next month, you shall work in service of charity, to expand your horizons. Give of your wealth and time, to feed those who are foodless."
Then, next, he turns to Teppus. "You are a paladin, of might and fierceness. You fight for the welfare of all. Oath to me that for the next month, you will speak always the truth, in service to your god and fellow creatures."
To Donk, he pauses. "I see you are a brash and proud defender, tiny centaur. You live by glory and valor. Oath to me that for the next month, you will refrain from the wanton giving of offense, and be humble."
To Gragnar next! "You speak the truth well, strange green one! For the next month, oath to me that you shall complete the enterprise of anything you have begun, for there is no honor in quitting."
And now, Ashlynn! "You also fight for the welfare of all. And you clearly respect authority. Oath to me that, for the next month, you shall give of your time and money to aid those less fortunate without hope of reward."
And finally, Qat. "You are clearly a follower of light. Oath to me that for the next month, you shall never refuse a challenge from an equal, and shall vehemently stand up for what's right!" "So oathed," booms Teppus, firmly. He seems he has no problem with this idea. "I already do not lie anyways. At least, not purposefully." He sniffs, then he looks at the others expectantly. GET ON WITH IT, that impatient look says.
Wren smiles easily, nodding to sir Cassowary, "I shall partake of that oath gladly, Sir Cassowary. To the benefit of those in need. "
Withdrawing from the knight's immediate presence, Qat listens to his conditions. Serious eyes weigh the seeming living construct. "I so do oath, yet only with the condition that i-it does not supercede the o-oaths I have made to my Goddess." Teppus is given a disapproving look from over her glasses, as if to say '/THAT'S/ how you do it. "I h-have much work before me..." she murmurs to herself.
Gragnar laughs at the requested oath. "Ain't no fun quittin' either!" he agrees. "Speakin' of finishin' think ya could help us finish this?" he asks with a broad grin, showing the base of his broken tusk, matching the tooth he wears as a necklace.
For the first time - possibly EVER - a small curving of lips, a tiny thing that may just be a smile, finds itself on Ashlynn's lips, for just a splitsecond. "So given. It is an oath I give each day." she says solemnly. These words, unlike some of the others do not come in that careful, measured manner, nor do they have their edges - these seem smooth, easy, light and soft as a breeze. Honest.
"Centaur?" Donk blinks and shakes his head. Destroyer cocks his head curiously up at the statue, before raising a leg up to scratch vigorously behind one ear. The determined look on Donk's face fall, and his well-groomed moustache even seems to sag a bit. "Sir Cassowary," he says after giving all else the chance to speak, the edge taken out of his voice as he sits up straight. He removes his helmet, revealing a tangled shock of orange hair pulled back into a ponytail, and holds his helm against his breast. "I am a proud Knight of the Cockatrice. Humility is a trait that goes against our edict. We are brash, bold, forthright, and loud. We are /proud/ to be such! I have given my oath to my Order...so I cannot give that oath to you. I do not offend...at least, not intentionally. But humble is not something you can ask of a Cockatrice." He wipes away a small tear from his cheek. Replacing his helmet, he levels his lance at the statue again. "That said, a Knight of the Cockatrice does not let anything stand between himself and his goal. Will you stand in my way, Honorable Knight?"
Sir Cassowary seems mighty pleased, though it turns to confusion when Donk says his piece. The knight-construct's head cants, and then he hms. "Fair enough! You are serve your order in faith. That, too, is a chivalric edict. Then, oath to me instead that for the next month, you shall give of your money and time to help those less fortunate than you, in charity."
Donk's eyebrows fly up again, looking up at statue with disdain. What? /Give/ his wealth away?? But his expression softens into one of thoughtfulness, and he scratches under his well-groomed and pointy beard. Eventually, he lifts the point of his lance upwards, and nods at the statue. "I give you my word, Sir Cassowary." Destroyer sneezes.
"VERY WELL THEN!" Cassowary booms, and he reaches into his stony pockets, producing a handful of small gold tokens. He hands one to each person, and sweeps his sword above their heads. "Then, by thy word, I seal thine oath!" And with that, he steps off of his chessboard. A great rumbling scrape of stone on stone reverberates through the little room as the piece of chessboard slowly slides away to reveal a staircase heading downward into darkness.
"Oaths made, ye may proceed," the knight says proudly, gesturing to the darkened hallway.
Wren accepts the token, placing it into her pouch for safekeeping. then she bows to the knight before moving to proceed down the steps, hesitating for just one moment, "Before we proceed, sir cassowary, are there any dangers for us in your master's cache we need to be aware of?" Gragnar looks the coin over, and ducks a bit as the sword swings around. "Right," he says, and slips the coin into a pouch by his waist, and leans over the new hole in the floor, peeking down, just in case.
GAME: Gragnar rolls perception: (3)+3: 6
A Xian-style bow is given to the knight, the priestess accepting his token with all due seriousness. Being as 'tall' as she is, Qat has no need to duck the knight's sword, though she does take a moment to study the coin with curiosity. Keeping it in the pocket of her silk pants, she then peers down the darkened stairwell. "Hmm." Passing her hand over the head of her spear, she whispers a few words, causing it to glow a steady, blue light that chases away what shadows might linger.
You paged Gragnar with 'It's a dark hole in the ground! With stairs! :D'
Donk visibly relaxes, and kicks Destroyer out of his scratching-nirvana to step forward, and he takes the gold token from the stone knight, turning it over in his hand and biting down on it curiously. Hmmm... His lance jumps as Cassowary's sword catches the very tip, and he looks up distractedly. Wuzzat? A bird? Oh! Hey, hidden stairs! "Step back, fellows," the tiny gnome says in his best hero voice, spurring Destroyer up to the stairwell. "There might be danger. Let the Donk go first." Lance levelled down the stairway, Donk makes ready to descend. Not even waiting for the statue to answer.
(Day 2) ------
<OOC> Harric says, "OKAY. When last we left our intrepid heroes, they were gazing into the vast darkness of a stairwell leading downwards into the ground. How did they get there, you ask? They were hired by a tiny balding Egalrin, Lothario, to help him sort his late Master's estate, as it's entirely likely there's dangerous things there. And, he's agreed to allow you to take the most dangerous stuff out to be taken care of -- once it's been logged, of course. In searching the room, our heroes met Sir Cassowary the Wise, a rather chipper statue who has oathed them all into chivalric promises. By agreeing to his task, our intrepid heroes have proven to be of strong mettle and good heart, and thus valiant enough leaders to venture into Sanzen the Brave's secret keep of treasures..."
Ashlynn accepts her own token, inspecting it for a moment before packing it away. Bowing her head to the stone knight, the woman frees her bow, holding it in hand - just in case - as she moves to glance down the stairwell herself. She still keeps glancing over her shoulder at the statue, however. Freaky. Statues shouldn't -do- that! The token is also accepted by Teppus, of course, though he is eyeing it. Teppus fgives a nod towards Qat and says, "All right." And then he peers downwards, grabbing his guisarme and getting himself ready. "All right. Let's have ourselves a looksy."
Qat gives Sir Talking Statue an uncertain bob before making her tiptoed way past the tall figure. When Teppus nods to her, she is reminded of something and quick as a flick of a duck's tail, she whips out her ever-present calligraphy brush and, licking the tip of it to wet it, touches up the fierce brows drawn on her fellow Serrielite's face. Nodding in satisfaction that he looks properly intimidating, she slips her brush back into the armband she wears that of course, holds spare brushes. Patpatting him to please get between her and Donk's wolf, she moves down the stairs, keeping her tufted spear high to benefit those with imperfect humie eyes.
Sir Cassowary pauses, head tilting in thought as he considers that question. "Ehhh, well... I don't really know /what's/ down there, to be sure. I simply guard the place. So, I leave that up to you!" Settling back on his feet, he takes his place near the slab of chessboard, fingers resting easily on the handle of his blade.
Wren takes a slow breath, nodding faintly before she moves to head down with the others, unslinging her bow and readying an arrow, just on the offchance it should be needed. "Do you guys want me to take point? "
And then he is painted.
Teppus now has inqment on his face. He looks at her quizically. His nose twitches. And then? Then he senezes. He opens his mouth to say something once he's recovered (and he politely sneezed into his elbow) and then says, "...I'll be asking you about that later." Someone is... not... at all familiar with the glories of inqment in Serriel's name!!
Unfamiliar with the nomenclature Wren uses, Qat blinks, then turns to the sneezing Teppus. "Elves are better at pointing a-at things?"
Wren smiles, looking to Qat, "I mean, do you want me to go first, I've got very sharp vision, even in poor lighting conditions.. Might be safest with regards to spotting any potential hazards in our way.. "
Donk and his mount patter down the steps into the darkness, out of range of the conversation up above. Donk's voice echoes up the stone stairs, quickly receding: "My, sure is dim down here."
Qat's mouth makes a small 'o' when the elf explains this. Those bespectacled eyes peer up at the elf's eyes, as if the little Xian is attempting to ascertain this sharper vision with her own poor one. Reminded by the voice echoing up to them, she points downwards, "I think h-he stole your point." she says to Wren.
"I have your back, priestess." Ashlynn tells Qat, falling into line accordingly. After all, it wouldn't do to expose her to attack from that direction. There's a brief glance into the darkness below. "We... should probably make sure he comes to no harm." she suggests at Donk's eagerness.
Wren nods to the others now, and she moves swiftly to follow Donk, looking around VERY carefully as she does so, "Donk, wait for us. Do not be foolhardy."
GAME: Wren rolls perception: (18)+9: 27 GAME: Donk rolls perception: (1)+1: 2 <OOC> Donk says, "Ouch. He definitely doesn't hear Wren."
The stairs, wide enough for two people to descend side-by-side, lead down into darkness. Down, down, down, further down still. In fact, by the sheer number of stairs, one might even consider their destination a /bunker/, rather than a basement. Still, it's not long before lights on the wall of the stairwell start to flicker on with an audible weak zapping, and their shadows are thrown like puppets onto the walls. Cobwebs hang in ribbons along the seams of the ceiling, but at least it all seems pretty safe. No crumbling mis-steps, no giant spider with fangs dripping with poison.
<OOC> Wren says, "Deaf as a post, our Donk." <OOC> Harric XD <OOC> Donk says, "What? Wazzat?" <OOC> Harric says, "Destroyer was too busy whuffing and huffing and snorting as he descends the stairs." <OOC> Wren whispers conspiratorially, "Shame he's not mute as one too" <OOC> Donk says, "He doesn't like stairs. Whines the whole way down." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "I think she said she wants some roast! Or maybe it was toast? Going to the coast?"
As the lights come on, the party descending sees the foolhardy cavalier perched on the bottom step, rubbing at his eyes under his low-fitting helm. He peers out into the room beyond, lance out and pointed at...well, anything and everything, as usual. As the party gets closer, he glances back and gives them a toothy smile, calling up in a loud whisper, "Never fear, fellows. The Donk has disabled all the traps on the stairs. It's safe to enter! Now..." He looks forward again. "Anyone see anything valuable in here?"
<OOC> Harric says, "It's completely pitch black in there at the moment." <OOC> Donk says, "Ahhh, that's lighting only in the stairwell, then. Well, he's got even more reason to stop at the bottom of the stairs." <OOC> Donk *peers out into the pitch dark room beyond
"Y-You do?" Qat asks Ashlynn in surprise, and actually glances back to see if her back is still on her or in the archerwoman's position. Belatedly realizing the soldier must mean something else, the priestess' cheeks flare a sakura pink. "Yes, yes o-of course you do." Keenly feeling her inexperience, she takes firm steps down after the rest, lips moving silently. Either she is praying, or saying very bad Xian words about herself. The light her spear-tip casts is more than sufficient for people not to break their necks slipping, at least. Still useful! Coming into the web-encrusted room, she peers around with all the quriosity of a qitten. "Hmf. N-Not yet." she says, squinting at the impatient Donk.
<OOC> Wren says, "Ok, cast Light on an arrow and fire it into the gloom to illuminate it!" <OOC> Qat cast Light on her spear head at the end of the last scene. <OOC> Wren says, "Heh. two light sources then. :)" <OOC> Qat says, "So hm 20ft around where Qat is I think." <OOC> Qat nodnod. :) Let's see how far your arrow goes. <OOC> Qat hmm. <OOC> Qat says, "Wren, are you casting Light? Or were you asking me to cast it?" <OOC> Wren says, "casting it." <OOC> Wren says, "using my Voice of the woods racial ability." <OOC> Qat says, "Okay. Just checking. :)" <OOC> Wren says, "Allows me to cast it once a day"
Wren reaches the bottom of the stairwell, where the illumination ends, and she frowns slightly for a moment. Murmuring something softly, the arrow she has nocked to her bow flares with light, which she then looses into the gloom ahead in an attempt to light the way for the group.
It takes Ashlynn a moment of eyeing Qat to realize the little Xian woman must not have understood what she said. "It... means I shall endeavor to prevent any hostiles from striking at you from this direction." she tries to explain as she moves down the stairs as well, wary of... well, anything and everything. One can never be too careful stepping into a vault that has the possibility of being full of evil artifacts.
<OOC> Harric says, "Wren, how far can you shoot?" <OOC> Harric says, "Also do me a favor and roll it :3" <OOC> Wren says, "um, what's the range on a composite longbow?" GAME: Wren rolls ranged: (19)+6: 25 <OOC> Harric looks it up. <OOC> Donk says, "110 feet" <OOC> Teppus says, "Back!" <OOC> Donk says, "Is the range increment, but that just defines how quickly the accuracy decreases." <OOC> Harric says, "Ah, thanks, Donk. :3" <OOC> Donk says, "Welcome!"
The pink only heightens when Ashlynn deduces Qat's confusion. The Serrielite is grateful for the explanation, either way, and so she gives the scarred soldier a thankful little nod. Firmly, though, she pipes up, one finger held forth, "I am h-here to protect with Serriel's stern but j-just love. We will w-work together to further the cause of r-righteousness." Teppus' stern eyebrows are given another approving glance.
The arrow launches into the gloom, and >thunk< lands in...an owlbear? The creature, however, does not move, but stays right where it is, in mid-swipe, beside what appears to be a rearing stag. The light, at least, flares up to show the life-sized panorama they've been placed in, and in the gathering gloom, glass glints from the darkness to the right of the entrance, about head-high.
Wren looks to the others, a slight frown on her face, "Ok, that's a BIG room. This isn't going to be easy, so stay on your guard. This may be a stupid question, but do any of you actually know much about magical items?"
"Does he really call himself 'The Donk?" repetas Teppus to Qat, "Can't he come up with something better than that? Hell, I think I came up with something better than that when I was seven years old playing with sticks in my back yrad." The now-inqmented Paladin of 'Sewwiel' is eyeing the now shot arrow. "Well."
Ashlynn's own glance at the ferocious, frowny inkment brows on Teppus is one of puzzlement. Then again, this is a new experience to her as well, and she's not about to question a priestess of the Light. If she noticed the blush, she doesn't comment on it. Emotions? What is this strange thing you speak of? Lifting her bow at sight of the -horrible monster-, hand halfway through the motion of drawing an arrow forth, Ashlynn stops herself from adding another projectile to the trophy when she notices it has not actually moved. The arrow is let to slip back into the quiver until it is actually needed, and she peers into the gloom about them silently.
<OOC> Harric also notes, this owlbear is /cleeear/ across the room. Like, the very edge of Wren's accurate range there.
Gragnar approaches the creature slowly, peering through the dark easily. He looks around a little as he advances, his eyes more sooted for the gloom than his companions' might be.
GAME: Gragnar rolls perception: (1)+3: 4 <OOC> Wren says, "As I said BIG room..."
Qat blinks up at the elf while she states a few obvious things. "Pointers are good at pointing out the o-obvious." she notes, filing away the information into her noggin. Shaking her head to the question about knowing about magical items, her attention is drawn to Teppus whispering to her. "Perh-haps 'Donk' has a certain meaning in h-his language. It could mean 'The Impatient'? It w-would be an efficient language, i-if so." she compliments. Surrepticiously, she fans at warm cheeks, willing the color to go away now in the name of Serriel while she studies where the arrow has landed, and its immediate environs revealed by the light Wren cast upon it. "That is... is it... d-did a bird h-have unholy relations with a bear?" she whispers, horrified. "How w-would it work?!" She feels her brain melting.
Gragnar approaches the creature slowly, a single hesitant step at a time as he peers through the dark easily. He looks around a little as he advances, his eyes more suited for the gloom than his companions' might be, though he's still staying within their own sight, only a couple yards away.
"S'called an Owlbear. Seen one before, not unlike that, too. Back in the war, we were about a few minutes away from this camp of goblins, getting ready to take their suddender. We heard this ungodly screamin' and when we got there, it was one o' those things eatin' the goblins up like nothin'. Horrible creatures, owl-bears." He grimaces, moving further into the room. Hesistant is a good way to describe it. Cautious, really, his guisarme out. "This is a big room," he notes.
"Eh? Are you casting aspersions on The Donk's title?" The lance whips back to point at the much bigger paladin, and Donk turns sideways to glare up at Teppus. "I'll have you know, that DOZENS of societies will fall to their knees in fear at the very /sound/ of... Oh! A trophy room!" Donk spurs Destroyer off the bottom step, and the wolf saunters out into the gloom, the long lance rising straight up as he peers about him. "Magical items? Please. The Donk has broken more magical items in his day than you have ever laid your hands on!" He grins at Qat's confusion, raising his voice, "Ah, glad you asked! The owlbear has some incredible history. You see, it actually harkens back to the avatars of two star-crossed gods of the forest..." Oh god, he's going to start talking again. Someone stop him!
As Gragnar, Teppus, and 'the' Donk step into the gloom, no traps seem to spring, but lights do seem to slowly ease on from the walls -- before suddenly sputtering and crackling with a violent POP. And once again the party is left in gloom, with the exception of the arrow illuminating the area. There was a brief flash, indeed, of the room, before the malfunction.
Wren hrms, and she starts to make her way forwards alongside Gragnar, moving slowly, and looking arond in the gloom carefully, her elven vision sharp as she peers about, looking for any dangers.. "There's got to be some way to illuminate this place... Some trigger like to the illumination on the stairs down here.. "
<OOC> Harric says, "Everyone roll me reflex and perception please!" GAME: Wren rolls perception: (16)+9: 25 GAME: Qat rolls Reflex: (2)+1: 3 GAME: Qat rolls Perception: (19)+4: 23 GAME: Wren rolls reflex: (18)+7: 25 GAME: Gragnar rolls perception: (14)+3: 17 GAME: Gragnar rolls reflex: (6)+6: 12 GAME: Ashlynn rolls Perception: (12)+4: 16 GAME: Ashlynn rolls Reflex: (19)+4: 23 GAME: Donk rolls reflex: (8)+2: 10 GAME: Donk rolls perception: (1)+1: 2 <OOC> Harric says, "Man, your perc rolls hate you today. XD" <OOC> Donk says, "He's gotta get a hat that fits better. It keeps falling in front of his eyes." <OOC> Harric says, "Qat is blinded for one round by the lights! The rest of you are okay. Lemme send some pages." GAME: Teppus rolls Ref: (16)+5: 21 GAME: Teppus rolls Perception: (12)+4: 16 <OOC> Wren says, "heh, trust me to say that right as the lights come on.." Donk pages: SHould I make a save and per check for Destroyer, too? You paged (Wren, Qat, Ashlynn) with 'As the lights come on, but before they explode into nothing, you see that it is indeed a trophy room. There are lots of similar dioramas along the far wall, museum-style, with stuffed trophies looking fierce. Above you is a stuffed full-sized green dragon hung in flight. At regular intervals through the room are big glass cases, displaying awesome weapons, jewelry, and ... that's about all you caught.' You paged Donk with 'Go ahead and do Reflex for Destroyer.' <OOC> Donk says, "Rolling reflex for Destroyer" GAME: Donk rolls 5: (5)+5: 10 <OOC> Harric says, "Destroyer is not blinded. XD" <OOC> Harric says, "He has spots though." You paged (Teppus, Ashlynn, Gragnar) with 'Your brief glimpse of the room before the lights explode shows ... teeth! There's a dragon above you! It's roaring! It's ... stuffed. A full-sized green dragon is posed above you in flight. There's some glass cases throughout the room, but you didn't get a good look; only that they're placed at regular intervals.' You paged Donk with 'Your helmet fell in front of your eyes. On the plus side: you didn't get blinded! On the downside, you got no glimpse of the room when it was fully illuminated.' From afar, Donk XD You paged Ashlynn with 'Oop! Take the latter description.' Long distance to Ashlynn: Harric is good at this. herp. Ashlynn pages: Pssst, you sent me both of those! I assume the latter one's corre-- Ashlynn pages: Yez. <3 Long distance to Ashlynn: Harric counted your reflex as perc, the first time. XD Wren pages: oh, so the lights are only on for a moment? You paged Wren with 'Only a moment. They exploded.' You paged Wren with 'Or, well pop-fizzled.' You paged Wren with 'Haven't been used in a while.' From afar, Wren nods.
<OOC> Qat says, "If I'm blinded for one round, does this mean we're in inits?" <OOC> Harric says, "Nah, not at the moment." <OOC> Gragnar says, "This roll's purely for me." GAME: Gragnar rolls wis: (7)+wis: 7 <OOC> Gragnar says, "Screwed that up, but good enough for me." <OOC> Harric will let you know when you're in initiative. :D
Blinded and flailing, Qat tries to find a solid someone to hang onto, the priestess teetering on the edge of the stair she is on. "I s-saw a dragon!" and other things, but, "Green dragon!".
Snapping her head sideways and squinting to shield from the sudden flash of light, Ashlynn startles -again- at whatever it is she saw, tensing like a bowstring. And tensing the ACTUAL bowstring, with an arrow nocked, too. "... I have never before considered how unsettling a trophy room in dim illumination can be." she says, after a few seconds to calm herself.
In the gloom of the light spread by the stairway, Gragnar can be seen to flinch, half shielding his eyes, half blocking an attack from above that... doesn't come. A moment passes, and Gragnar cautiously lowers his arms, then looks around. "'Notha trophy room," he remarks. "Lights came o' when we moved... Maybe da floor?" He turns back to Qat as she grabs his braid. "Weren't movin'."
Wren sees what she sees, the diorama's about the room, and she scowls as the lights fizzle out, "Damn it. Okay, we're going to need torches, and lots of them if the magical lighting doesn't work.. But we'll also have to be careful.. "
GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+15: (10)+15: 25 GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+21: (4)+21: 25
Donk acks as the lights suddenly burst on, jerking his head back as his helmet falls over his eyes. His mount yelps and skitters back a few steps, the pair quailing at that sudden change. "C'mon out, you rascals!" Donk yells, swinging his lance about blindly, menacing the empty space around him with the sharp point. "Face me one-on-one! I can take three at once! What are ya, afraid?" Destroyer sneezes, still blinking as he backs towards the group again, nervous now by the sudden brightness.
<OOC> Harric says, "The lights popped, so it's dark again."
"Waugh!" Teppus' eyes are shielded from the brightness as he twists his head away, hand over his face. He reaches out to grab Qat to steady the other cleric, instinctively. Someone is protective. "Dragon! Damn it!" It's stuffed, of course, but he can't really tell right now.
Qat hangs on to Gragnar's braid for dear life, the eyes behind her thick glasses blinking painfully. Seconds pass before her eyes stop burninating. Dabbing the tears away, she gasps, "I-It was not? Truly? It looked b-big, and powerful!" She brandishes her lit spear in a futile attempt to chase the darkness away, still rubbing her hurting eyes clear.
GAME: Teppus rolls Perception: (12)+4: 16 GAME: Wren rolls perception: (19)+9: 28 GAME: Qat rolls Perception: (13)+4: 17 GAME: Donk rolls perception: (3)+1: 4 GAME: Ashlynn rolls Perception: (10)+4: 14 GAME: Gragnar rolls perception: (3)+3: 6 You paged Wren with 'You aren't sure but you might hear a faint...click? off in the distant darkness.'
After that initial scare, things all seem to settle down a little, into darkness or gloom. The dragon above, indeed, does not appear to move. Though it looks quite fierce. And possibly hungry.
Wren frowns a moment, raising her hand quickly, "Quiet, everyone... I think I just heard something up ahead, in the darkness.. it was faint though... "
Gragnar's head wobbles a little at Qat clinging to his thick, rather surprisingly smooth braid. At Wren's comment, he falls quiet, the only sound the slight grunting as he tries to compensate for the extra drag with his strong neck.
Donk goes silent, save for the swishing of his lance as he swings it about, and the chinkling of his armor. As he settles down, he adjusts his helmet back up onto his head, to find that Destroyer is sidling up next to Qat. He gives the cleric a big grin. "Light! Wonderful! Will you be leading the charge then? Quite brave of you! It looks very dangerous out there..." He looks down at his lance and waggles it before him. "Hmmm, should figure out a way to get you to light up..."
At Wren's warning, he goes quiet, peering off into the darkness. "Fiends??" he whispers, hefting his shield and his weapon, leaning forward eagerly.
A glance across the group to make certain everyone is alright, Ashlynn lapses into silence. This isn't unusual at all when it comes to her, really. She leaves the arrow nocked in the bow, ready to draw at moment's notice (and likely embed it in an unfortunate trophy, if any more of them should decide to get illuminated at inopportune times). Eyes dart about the gloom, but it's obvious she doesn't see anything. At least it distracts her from considering how odd, overall, her day's been.
Wren hrms, looking to the others a moment, "I'm not sure. Wait here, be ready to cover your eyes if need be, but also watch my back. I'll see what I can see.. " With that, she starts to head out into the room, quite slowly, only maybe 10 foot a round at most, looking around VERY carefully as she does so, for anything that may help make things clearer for the others.. or which poses an immediate threat, her bow still drawn, a fresh arrow ready just in case.
GAME: Wren rolls perception: (6)+9: 15
Horrified that her safe handhold hand turned out to be Gragnar's braid, Qat lets go of it like it was a hot bottle of inqment. "My a-apologies!" She tries to regain her bearings now that her sight is restored, only to find Destroyer scooching next to her. "Eep!" Mindful for the vow she just took, she nervously stands her ground. "N-Nice doggie..." she gulps, not feeling any better when Wren mentions hearing something.
You paged Wren with 'Darkness extends out ahead of you, and to your right. To your left appears to be the near wall, where a long, waist-high glass case shows off some neat artifacts. Behind you is the direction of the stairwell. Which direction are you going in?' You paged Wren with 'Straight ahead, is where you shot your arrow, but there's darkness between you and it.'
Braid released, Gragnar shakes it out, and watches Wren as they proceed. After a couple moments, he goes ahead and raises his arm, just in case. "'Salrigh'," he says to Qat, softly.
GAME: Qat refreshes spells. Wren pages: heading straight ahead GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+15: (7)+15: 22 GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+21: (18)+21: 39 Wren pages: I do have low-light vision double that of a human due to being an elf. Wren pages: I figure best to head towards where I THOUGHT I heard something.
As Wren heads forward toward the owlbear, the party is hushed, mostly. Thankfully -- or perhaps frightfully -- as she approaches, she hears no further noises. Perhaps that first one was a fluke. Wren keeps going, slowing down though, looking around, and listening still, she gestures back thatthe others should still wait where they are for now.
GAME: Wren rolls perception: (6)+9: 15
Destroyer looks up at Qat with a big wolfie grin, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. He starts to crane his head up, sniffing at Qat's hands and the fancy glowing stick she has! If she throws it, he could find it really quick, he bets! Really really quick! "Down, Destroyer!" Donk hisses, urging his mount's attention back to the task at hand, and they trot away on Wren's heels. "The little lady will need our help when Dnager leaps out at her!" Waiting? FEH! "This is all... really immpresive. Exactly how big a collection -is- this going to be?" asks Teppus after a moment, rhetorically. He's paying attention, guisarme ready, and looking highly... *higly& uncomfortable.
Ashlynn blinks once, twice, at the retreating forms of both Donk (plus wolf, quantity one) and Wren, and glances in askance at Teppus, Qat and Gragnar, uncertain what to do in the situation. After a moment's consideration, she opts to remain at the side of the two Serrielites, however, bow at the ready.
"Not doin' much sortin' are we?" Gragnar asks, taking only a couple steps away, trying to keep the advancing figures at the edge of his vision. If something eats them, it'd be nice to have warning before it got to him.
<OOC> Qat says, "Question! If Qat put Light on Ashlynn's arrow to shoot at the dragon, could she conceivably cast a decent amount of light into the room as a whole?" <OOC> Qat says, "Er, *puts." <OOC> Wren says, "better idea, if you cold, actually cast it on the stuffed dragon itself?" <OOC> Wren says, "ould, even" <OOC> Wren whaps her player's typing. Could, even. <OOC> Harric says, "Only in the radius of the Light spell from the object it's cast on. The dragon is about 20 feet up out of reach, so it would cast a dim light in a radius from whichever object." <OOC> Harric says, "Since it's 20 feet normal light, then 20 feet dim light after that; double that for creatures with low-light vision." <OOC> Harric says, "That is, that's what the light spell does. :D" <OOC> Qat says, "Oh okay. Wouldn't be terribly useful then. Touch spell, too, so unless someone hurls Qat up there..."
Lips peeled back in a poor simulation of a smile, Qat eyes the big, wolf tongue coming closer to her face. Saved by the Donk, she exhales a shaky breath, leaning on her spear, weak with relief. "T-Too big." she mumbles to Teppus, already wondering if Serriel's testing will cause her to expire before she reaches the ripe old age of twenty-five.
<OOC> Teppus says, "She's tiny. I could do it. :(" <OOC> Qat KER-PROING! <OOC> Harric XD <OOC> Ashlynn shoots Qat out of the bow? :( <OOC> Harric says, "Perception checks for those who are trying to perceive." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Shut up, physics! This is totally viable! :(" GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+15: (17)+15: 32 GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+21: (16)+21: 37 GAME: Wren rolls perception: (9)+9: 18 GAME: Ashlynn rolls Perception: (11)+4: 15 GAME: Donk rolls perception: (15)+1: 16 <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Limited to the area of the light, of course, and wherever Ash is, which is wherever Teppus and Qat are at the moment!" GAME: Gragnar rolls perception: (17)+3: 20 <OOC> Harric says, "Okay! Place your markers, if you please, so I know where you are at the moment <3 https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/ccc?key=0Ar8-TnFFdezZdG5mRGltV1VnbVBuX18wTkRLYVFtNVE#gid=0" <OOC> Qat says, "L deonotes where the light source is?" <OOC> Teppus says, "Oh nooo D:" <OOC> Harric says, "Correct." <OOC> Harric says, "The outer two rings are visible for characters with low-light vision; the inner two for everyone." <OOC> Gragnar says, "And Darkvision just goes 'Meh, light source?'" <OOC> Harric says, "Yes :3" <OOC> Qat is at where L is, with her lit spear, she figures? <OOC> Harric says, "Nah, there will be another radius wherever you are." <OOC> Wren says, "no, it's my lit arrow i think" <OOC> Harric says, "The L is the arrow in the owlbear." <OOC> Qat says, "Ah, forgot about that. The owlbear." <OOC> Wren says, "which means that with the two light sources, I should be able to see most of the room. :)" <OOC> Harric says, "This is not the whole room :3" <OOC> Harric says, "Just what you can see so far XD" <OOC> Wren nods.
In the lit portion of the room, the party gathers, tense and alert, when all of a sudden there's a modulated shriek, like some kind of dying animal. A bipedal creature with sharp teeth and strong jaws leaps out of the shadows onto Teppus, strong reptilian tail lashing behind it. Small metal protofeathers layer over its shiny metal hide, each of its two eyes red and glowing. Its powerful hind feet sport a single wicked scythe-like claw, as it takes out its rather sudden robotic fury on the paladin.
<OOC> Harric says, "Surprise round!" GAME: Teppus rolls initiative: Roll: 16 + Bonus: 1 = Total: 17 <OOC> Teppus says, "so we're rolling init now? :)" <OOC> Harric says, "I think that happens after the surprise round." <OOC> Harric says, "Right?" <OOC> Harric says, "Or I guess we could +init now :|a" GAME: Wren rolls initiative: Roll: 10 + Bonus: 4 = Total: 14 <OOC> Qat says, "Hee. Probably easier to know who's acting surprised first?" <OOC> Wren says, "I don't know how much longer I can stick around, but I'll try to stay as long as I can." You paged Teppus with 'Ah, I see. Gotcha.' <OOC> Harric says, "Okay yes roll init!" GAME: Gragnar rolls initiative: Roll: 19 + Bonus: 3 = Total: 22 GAME: Donk rolls initiative: Roll: 1 + Bonus: 2 = Total: 3 <OOC> Wren already did. :) GAME: Qat rolls initiative: Roll: 2 + Bonus: 1 = Total: 3 GAME: You roll initiative for Clockwork Deinonychus: Roll: 5 + Bonus: 6 = Total: 11 <OOC> Harric says, "Okay lemme figure this out here..." GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+5: (16)+5: 21 <OOC> Qat says, "Sure thing. :)" <OOC> Harric says, "Talon 1 strike against Teppus." <OOC> Teppus ( <OOC> Teppus says, "My AC is presently, while surprised, 20. :)" GAME: Harric rolls 1d8+2: (4)+2: 6 <OOC> Harric says, "Aha, gotcha." <OOC> Harric juggles commands. GAME: Harric damaged Teppus for 6 points. 22 remaining. GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+5: (18)+5: 23 <OOC> Donk says, "Depending on where it is, do any of us get an attack of opportunity on it?" <OOC> Harric says, "Talon 2 strike. Ouch." <OOC> Teppus says, "We don't, Donk." <OOC> Harric says, "Umm -- do you get to do AoO when surprised? :|a" <OOC> Teppus says, "It's going before us." GAME: Harric rolls 1d8+2: (7)+2: 9 GAME: Harric damaged Teppus for 9 points. 13 remaining. <OOC> Harric leaves it at that >.> Okay, top of the initiative! <OOC> Gragnar says, "Step over and try and stunning fist it" <OOC> Harric says, "Awesome, roll it." GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1: (1)+6: 7 <OOC> Gragnar says, "DERP~" <OOC> Harric says, "You miss! Whoosh! Pose it!" <OOC> Harric says, "Ashlynn!" <OOC> Harric says, "What you do next?" <OOC> Donk says, "Ah, flat-footed means no AoO. That's right." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "I would like to 5' out of its range (I can't see it on the map, so I dunno if that's feasible yet) and full attack it with Rapid Shot and DA, please." <OOC> Harric says, "There, the C is the Clockwork Deinonychus. :3" <OOC> Harric says, "Roll it!"
At the shriek, Gragnar starts, and is moving even as the creature is landing on Teppus. He pulls back a fist, going to clobber the creature after the first talon strike, but, not anticipating the first, he misses entirely, the result actually mildly embarassing.
<OOC> Ashlynn says, "Kay-o, see it. Will move marker momentarily." GAME: Ashlynn rolls 1d20+5: (5)+5: 10 GAME: Ashlynn rolls 1d20+5: (19)+5: 24 <OOC> Harric says, "First misses, second hits!" <OOC> Harric says, "Roll damage." GAME: Ashlynn rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9 <OOC> Harric says, "Okay! Teppus!" <OOC> Harric says, "(Pose it, Ash! :D)" <OOC> Wren says, "not having rapid shot yet means I will only get 1 shot, right?" <OOC> Harric says, "I believe so." <OOC> Teppus says, "My turn? :D" <OOC> Wren nods <OOC> Harric says, "Yep!" <OOC> Teppus says, "I five foot back, hit it with my guisarme. Activate power attack." GAME: Teppus rolls 1d20+7: (1)+7: 8 <OOC> Teppus says, "... :(" <OOC> Harric says, "Miss :(" <OOC> Harric says, "Pose it!" <OOC> Harric says, "Wren!" <OOC> Harric says, "You're up." Ashlynn's eyes widen in surprise and alarm as the creature - or construct, as it may be - leaps out of the shadows at the paladin. Hopping backwards to not be in reach of sharp claws, the woman lifts her bow, her hands a flurry of activity as she sends two arrows at the thing in rapid succession. One of the projectiles bounces off metal hide harmlessly and spirals, broken, into the distance. The other, however, embeds fairly firmly into the plating and causes gears beneath to whine. <OOC> Wren says, "5 foot step and try to shoot it with my bow, using precise shot." <OOC> Wren says, "I get my bonus to hit from oath, right?" <OOC> Harric says, "Yes, first shot does get a bonus, that's right!" GAME: Wren rolls ranged+1: (2)+6+1: 9 <OOC> Wren facefaults. <OOC> Harric says, "Miss :(" <OOC> Harric says, "Pose it :D"
Wren whirls as she hears the commotion behind her, jumping and raising her bow, but she stumbles, the arrow instead of streaking towards the clockwork monstrosity, shooting straight up, and into the stuffed dragon above.
"Waugh!" Teppus is struck, clawed by the clockwork thing! He stumbles back, raises his weapon, and tries to hit it.
Badly.
<OOC> Harric says, "The Deinonychus is going to take that five-step toward Ash and chomp at her, because she made it hurt." GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14 <OOC> Harric says, "Miss!" <OOC> Harric says, "Qat's turn!" <OOC> Harric says, "No wait --" <OOC> Harric says, "Donk!" <OOC> Harric says, "Donk's turn." <OOC> Donk says, "Donk will circle around, stabbing with his lance when he gets close enough, then Destroyer will close in beside the dino (flanking with Qat) to bite it and try and drag it down." <OOC> Donk says, "Should I roll, Harric?" <OOC> Harric says, "Anyway! Donk! roll!" GAME: Donk rolls weapon6: (9)+7: 16 <OOC> Harric says, "Miss!" <OOC> Donk says, "Bah! Okay, Destroyer next." GAME: Donk rolls 3+2: (16)+3+2: 21 <OOC> Harric says, "Hit! Roll damage." <OOC> Gragnar says, "Clearly, the secret is to attack it twice." <OOC> Harric XD <OOC> Donk says, "Woo! Okay, he also gets a Trip attempt." GAME: Donk rolls 1d6+1: (4)+1: 5 <OOC> Harric does a misfortune aura. <OOC> Donk says, "Does flanking count on trip?" <OOC> Harric says, "Uhhhh... does it?" <OOC> Donk looks real quick <OOC> Ashlynn says, "It does indeed. Though... I'm not sure Qat threatens. She has a lance, and they're reach weapons, nee?" <OOC> Donk says, "Ah, true. So Destroyer's attack should have been 19." <OOC> Donk says, "Still hits?" GAME: Donk rolls 3: (16)+3: 19 <OOC> Harric says, "Still hits!" <OOC> Harric says, "Also ... buh?" <OOC> Donk says, "That was his trip attempt" <OOC> Harric eyes that line though. "Rolled a 3, but you got a 16." <OOC> Harric will take it! <OOC> Harric says, "You trip it!" <OOC> Donk says, "I rolled 1d20+3" <OOC> Donk says, "Woo!" <OOC> Harric says, "Pose it! Qat you are up!" <OOC> Qat says, "Let me see, can I move to the bottom and left of Ashlynn and still cast Bless?" <OOC> Harric says, "You can! Because the raptor is flat-footed (prone?) it can't AoO you." <OOC> Qat says, "Yay. I do so!" GAME: Qat casts Bless. <OOC> Harric says, "Anyone with spell resist has to roll it, right?" <OOC> Harric says, "Well in the meantime >.> Pose it! And now it is... Grag's turn!" <OOC> Teppus says, "sec." <OOC> Teppus says, "my dog just kicked me in the crotch. >.<" <OOC> Teppus says, "Oh not my turn thank god. xD" <OOC> Harric says, "D:" <OOC> Gragnar says, "Flurry of blows!" <OOC> Harric says, "Who rolls to overcome spell resistance? I forget. Is it the caster, or the recipient?" <OOC> Harric says, "Go for it! Roll!" GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1-1: (8)+6+-1: 13
"Ah HAH! A CHALLENGE!" Donk cries, kicking his heels into Destroyer's side, making the wolf whirl about with a yelp. His lance swings around, but the momentum gets Donk's helmet spinning on his head, and his lance skips off the deinonychus' metal feathers. Destroyer's nice puppy act is gone, and he lets out a loud, vicious snarl as he closes on the back of the metal dinosaur. His teeth close on the back, and dig in with a crunch of teeth-in-metal. Gears whirr and grind painfully, as the wolf and dinosaur wrestle...only for the dino to go down hard on its side with a thunk, at the maw of a battle-hungry wolf.
GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1-1: (5)+6+-1: 10 <OOC> Harric says, "Does not hit!"
"I... Wha?" Caught entirely by surprise, Qat is unable to react to the sight of her fellow Serrielite being clawed. Sighting the thing naughty enough to be hurting Serriel's own, she gathers her wits as best she can, watching the rest in her party deal with this sudden interloper. As Donk's mount sends it sprawling, she quickly takes the chance to move a few paces to place Ashlynn's comforting bulk between herself and the creature. The glowing tip of her spear menaces at the prone... whatever. Lifting her bucklered arm, she begins weaving a holy script. Eyes flaring a faint, steely gray, she flicks her spell-laden finger lightly against the polished wood of her spear. This sends a humming reaction down the length of the weapon, whereupon it radiates from the end to blanket every person in the party with conviction and courage.
GAME: You roll initiative for Young Deinonychus: Roll: 13 + Bonus: 8 = Total: 21
<OOC> Harric says, "Do you get more than one blow for flurry?" <OOC> Gragnar says, "I rolled 2, does that 13 hit?" <OOC> Harric missed that. Nope!
With the creature now lying prone at his feet, Gragnar goes for the ever reliable curb stomp, stomping his foot twice down on the creature, missing both times as it squirms this way and that, simply refusing to accept it's beating with dignity. "Quit squirmin'!" the oruch bellows.
<OOC> Harric snrks. <OOC> Harric says, "A new challenger joins the fray, with his initiative right about now! A smaller, faster version 2.0 streaks out of the darkness to attack Donk and Destroyer!" GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+4: (12)+4: 16 <OOC> Harric says, "Miss with talon 1!" GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+4: (5)+4: 9 <OOC> Harric says, "Miss with talon 2!" GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+4: (15)+4: 19 <OOC> Donk XD <OOC> Harric says, "Miss with bite!" GAME: Harric rolls 1d20-1: (7)+-1: 6 <OOC> Harric says, "And miss with his foreclaws. XD" <OOC> Harric will pose it; Ash, you're up! <OOC> Donk says, "Holy hell, that's a lot of attacks." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Show me where the new thingie is, please!" <OOC> Harric says, "Pounce+Full Attack." <OOC> Donk nodnod. <OOC> Harric says, "Little-c is the young one!" <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Hm. Delay. Liable to be until after big raptor, but if more things show up, may stop delaying earlier. Will holler if so." <OOC> Harric thumbsup. <OOC> Harric says, "Teppus!" <OOC> Teppus says, "Teppus steps back again and second verse same as first." GAME: Teppus rolls 1d20+7: (11)+7: 18
Another simulated shriek heralds a smaller, lither version of the deinonychus writhing on the floor as it tries to make it to its feet. The wee dinosaur leaps after its charge to lash and scrabble at Donk and Destroyer, but as much as it has exuberance, it doesn't quite make up for its ineffectual flailing. Sure is cute though. (Well, except for the robotic red eyes.)
<OOC> Harric says, "Hits!" <OOC> Harric says, "Roll damage!" <OOC> Teppus says, "Sorry about that pause. One sec." <OOC> Teppus doublecheck his damage. <OOC> Harric says, "No prob :3" GAME: Teppus rolls 2d4+12: (5)+12: 17 <OOC> Harric says, "Holyballs" <OOC> Donk says, "Woah" <OOC> Qat says, "Paladin balls are pretty holy. :(" <OOC> Harric D: <OOC> Teppus says, "Level 4 power attack. :D" <OOC> Teppus says, "2d4+6 base, +4 from PA, +50% from 2 haneded power attack." <OOC> Harric says, ">crunch<" <OOC> Harric says, "Woof!" <OOC> Harric says, "Okay! Pose it, it's still not beaten but you did take a chunk out." <OOC> Harric says, "Next! Wren! Who is also Teppus!" <OOC> Teppus is eyeing Wren's sheet. <OOC> Teppus says, "Wren opens fire." GAME: Teppus rolls 1d20+6: (1)+6: 7 <OOC> Teppus says, "And MISSES." <OOC> Harric says, "MISS" <OOC> Harric says, "Dino! He scrambles up from prone and roars at Teppus >:E" <OOC> Donk says, "AoO from everyone around him." <OOC> Harric nodnod. <OOC> Harric says, "Donk and Grag get AoO." <OOC> Harric says, "Roll eet :D" <OOC> Donk says, "Grag, you wanna go first?" <OOC> Harric says, "Oh and Ash!" GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1: (4)+6: 10 <OOC> Gragnar says, "THESE ROLLS!" <OOC> Harric says, "D:" <OOC> Ashlynn says, "I am unsure whether I can take a Spiked Gauntlet AoO in the same round as I use my bow. I intend to use my bow, as it were. XD" <OOC> Ashlynn says, "If I can, I will, though!" <OOC> Harric ponders. <OOC> Donk says, "Switching your grip is a free action, which can only happen on your turn. But if you want to say you switched at the end of your last turn..." <OOC> Harric will allow it. <OOC> Donk <3 Harric <OOC> Ashlynn tries a bitchslap, then, for GLORY. GAME: Ashlynn rolls 1d20+2+2+1: (8)+2+2+1: 13 <OOC> Harric dies XD <OOC> Harric says, "Miss :("
"Damn it," is what Teppus says. He keeps space between himself and the creature, his guisarm driven into the flank of it with enormous force. The blade is then wrecnhed free.
Somehow, the green dragon has an arrow in it. Wren looks sheepish.
<OOC> Ashlynn is fairly inefficient at bitchslapping. :( <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Lemme know when dino's finished (I'll end my delay then!)" <OOC> Donk says, "Donk doesn't get an AoO. But Destroyer does!" GAME: Donk rolls 3+4: (6)+3+4: 13 <OOC> Harric says, "Miss!" <OOC> Harric says, "Okay uhh right that's just his move right?" <OOC> Donk says, "?" <OOC> Harric says, "Getting up from Prone?" <OOC> Harric says, "Just his move action." <OOC> Harric says, "So he can attack too." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "That is indeed just a move." <OOC> Donk says, "Yeah." <OOC> Harric woo! <OOC> Harric says, "He can't reach Teppus so he'll attack Donk." GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25 <OOC> Harric says, "Talon 1 hits!" GAME: Harric rolls 1d8+2: (7)+2: 9 GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8 <OOC> Donk says, "One attack, since he used a move." <OOC> Harric says, "Talon 2 misses." <OOC> Harric says, "But that natural attack has two." <OOC> Donk chinstrokes. Hmmm... <OOC> Harric says, "Or does he only get one there?" <OOC> Harric says, "It says '2 claws'" <OOC> Harric says, "Er, talons." <OOC> Donk says, "I /think/ he only gets the one. Can anyone back me up on that?" <OOC> Donk says, "Well, the second was a miss, so moot point anyways. :-)" <OOC> Harric says, "Yeah, fair enough. Will look it up! I will pose -- now it's Ashlynn's action if she wants to take it!" <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Yes please." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Stop delay. 5' for range and clear shot and full attack the now-standing robodino." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Rapid/DA." GAME: Harric damaged Donk for 9 points. 14 remaining. GAME: Ashlynn rolls 1d20+6: (12)+6: 18 GAME: Ashlynn rolls 1d20+6: (9)+6: 15 <OOC> Harric says, "Hit, miss" GAME: Ashlynn rolls 1d8+5: (8)+5: 13
The deinonychus flails its claws as it hefts its metallic weight beneath it. It's a rather ungainly movement, getting up to its feet, and it's only made moreso by the gash and dents from Teppus's guisarme. Cogs and blue magical energy course through the creature beneath its metallic hide, but it still seems to be standing, and ready to fight. It lunges at Donk with an unsteady jump slashing with its over-sized claws, taking a good chunk out of the gnome.
<OOC> Harric says, "You take a big chunk out of it! It's stuttering now. Pose it!" <OOC> Harric says, "Donk, it is you turn!" <OOC> Harric says, "(Does delay reorganize init?)" <OOC> Donk says, "I think so" <OOC> Ashlynn says, "It does. I now act after the dino." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "For all subsequent rounds." GAME: Ashlynn's inititave total changed to '10'. <OOC> Donk says, "I'm going to five-foot-step past the big C, to put it between myself and Gragnar. Then Donk will attack little-c, while Destroyer attacks big-C." <OOC> Harric says, "Got it!" <OOC> Donk says, "Destroyer first" GAME: Donk rolls 3+2: (7)+3+2: 12 <OOC> Donk says, "Donk" GAME: Donk rolls weapon6: (15)+7: 22 <OOC> Harric says, "Miss, hit!" GAME: Donk rolls 1d6+3: (2)+3: 5 <OOC> Harric says, "It's still standing, but just barely!" <OOC> Harric says, "Pose it! Qat, your turn!"
Holding back for a moment, waiting for an opening, Ashlynn takes a swipe at the mechanical monstrosity as it pulls to its feet to no awail, her backswing meeting naught but air. Hopping back, she transfers her bow to the hand, and another two arrows are fired. One goes low, skidding ineffectually across the floor - but the other finds the back of the thing's neck, driving into it. Were it a real creature, such an injury might have killed it - but being an automaton, it merely slows down, machinery screeching and its movements becoming choppy as it tries to combat the obstruction in the gears.
<OOC> Qat says, "Hmm! Since things seem to be in hand, I will channel my mighty 1d6 of Sewwiel's wuv." <OOC> Harric XD GAME: Qat rolls 1d6: (5): 5 <OOC> Harric says, "And that's... what is that specifically? XD"
Tink! Tink! Screeeech, scrabble scrabble! "What the devil??" Donk is suddenly assaulted from both sides, a whirl of claws and teeth on his back distracting him enough for a talon from its older sibling to catch him in a weak point in his armor, darkening the gray metal with his blood. Donk thrusts his elbow back, knocking the screeching clawing dino off his back, and Destroyer gnashes its teeth, making the bigger cousin jump back enough to get out from between the two. "Finally, things are getting interesting!" Donk grins, thrusting his lance forward, punching a hole in the smaller dino with a loud CHUNK! Destroyer's gnashing teeth gets the one besides them to dance around, but he doesn't land a blow.
<OOC> Qat says, "Oh, healing. Selective channel, so it only hits who Qat wants it to hit, in accordance to her CHA mod + 3(6 individuals). So she is healing anyone in her party and within a 30ft radius of 5hp." <OOC> Harric says, "Ah! Cool. :D"
GAME: Harric damaged Teppus for -5 points. 18 remaining. GAME: Harric damaged Donk for -5 points. 19 remaining.
<OOC> Harric says, "Okay then! Top of the round! Grag!" <OOC> Harric says, "Show that dino what's what!"
The inhuman screeches grate on Qat's senses. That they are coming from what seems like more non-living contructs makes it a little less horrid, though. She picks out the various hurts on Donk and Teppus and shakes her head, "Serriel does n-not approve!" Emphasizing her disapproval, the little priestess grabs a brush off her armband and scribes the Xian words for 'FEEL BETTER NOW' in glowing inqment. "Qu!" Stabbing the words with her brush, she sends a measure of healing out into the two combatants.
<OOC> Gragnar says, "Flurry of blows again." <OOC> Gragnar says, "Flanking gives what now?" <OOC> Harric says, "No prob :D" <OOC> Donk says, "+2 and sneak attack" GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1+1: (17)+6+1: 24 GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1+1: (4)+6+1: 11 GAME: Gragnar rolls 1d6+4: (6)+4: 10 <OOC> Harric says, "Alright, you took that one out!" <OOC> Harric says, "It's inactive-like on the ground." <OOC> Harric says, "Pose it, now it is the young one's turn!" <OOC> Harric says, "The little one pounces on Gragnar in retaliation!" GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25 GAME: Harric rolls 1d8+2: (6)+2: 8 <OOC> Gragnar says, "D:" <OOC> Harric says, "First talon: hit >.>" GAME: Harric rolls 1d20+5: (19)+5: 24 GAME: Harric rolls 1d8+2: (6)+2: 8 <OOC> Gragnar says, "Man, he pissed that thing off." <OOC> Harric says, "Second talon hit D:" <OOC> Teppus says, "D:" Ashlynn pages: A 20 is, besides an automatic hit, a critical threat. <OOC> Harric says, "Oh gosh I missed the fact that was a crit." <OOC> Ashlynn says, "Well, a threat, not a crit (yet)!" <OOC> Teppus says, "Oh dear. D:" <OOC> Harric rolls to confirm now, rather than taking that last one. GAME: Harric rolls 1d20: (13): 13
<OOC> Harric says, "(Am I supposed to add the bonus? I forget)" <OOC> Donk says, "Yeah, same bonuses." <OOC> Harric says, "Critical hit D:" <OOC> Donk says, "Ouch!" <OOC> Gragnar says, "Go go toughness feat?" <OOC> Harric rolls once, and doubles it. <OOC> Harric says, "Or I guess I already rolled that so 16 from that hit." <OOC> Gragnar says, "Eep" <OOC> Gragnar says, "Yeah, that'd be Gragnar." <OOC> Qat says, "Crits are rolled twice. Or 2d8+4. :)" <OOC> Harric has seen it doubled here in the last two times I was in a PRP :|a Up to ou Grag! <OOC> Gragnar says, "I'd prefer the rolled twice." <OOC> Qat says, "Eva has been doin it rong. ^_^;" <OOC> Harric says, "+roll 2d8+4" <OOC> Harric says, "errr herpd erp" GAME: Harric rolls 2d8+4: (10)+4: 14 <OOC> Harric says, "14 damage!" <OOC> Teppus says, "Yeah, people double it. :)" <OOC> Teppus says, "But they're not supposed to." <OOC> Teppus says, "It's an error some folks make. :)" <OOC> Harric says, "And the second one was 8 damage." <OOC> Qat isn't sure, is that a 3.5e thing? Has only played PF. <OOC> Harric says, "And since this isn't DC, the thing leaves off after that! >_>" GAME: Harric damaged Gragnar for 22 points. -1 remaining. <OOC> Gragnar says, "That's still Gragnar, but he's not quite so tore up." <OOC> Gragnar says, "-1 still triggers Gragnar's turn of 'OH NO YOU DIDN'T' right?" <OOC> Harric says, "I'm guessing so! I don't know what that is XD"
Gragnar bellows, and reaches out, taking the construct's head in both hands, holding it in place long enough to bring up his knee into the bottom of it's head, a crunching noise followed immediately by the flickering out of it's eyes as he lets it fall to the floor, letting out a little victory bellow, just in time for the little one to leap on him, talons slashing through his shirt easily, and claw him rather deeply, making the healthy oruch considerably less so, drawing a rather louder, and more feral sort of bellow from him.
As the big guy goes down in sparks of blue energy, crumpling into a metallic heap under Gragnar's pissed-off grip, the little one takes its revenge. And with its own slashy-flaily shredding, it takes the orc down in a mighty one-two, letting out a piercing screech of victory.
<OOC> Harric says, "Ummm... then, Teppus!" <OOC> Teppus says, "I ATTACK IT." <OOC> Teppus says, "RAR! FOR GWAGNAR" <OOC> Harric says, "ATTACK THE DARKNESS" <OOC> Harric says, "Roll it XD" GAME: Teppus rolls 1d20+7: (20)+7: 27 <OOC> Teppus says, ".." <OOC> Gragnar says, "JESUS" <OOC> Teppus says, "Oh please let me crit." GAME: Teppus rolls 1d20+7: (13)+7: 20 <OOC> Gragnar says, "AVENGE ME!" <OOC> Harric says, "Crit :O" <OOC> Donk says, "WOOO!" GAME: Teppus rolls 6d4+36: (15)+36: 51 <OOC> Harric says, "O_O" <OOC> Teppus says, "It's a x3 crit weapon. :)" <OOC> Harric says, "O_____O" <OOC> Harric says, "You cleave that thing IN HALF." <OOC> Gragnar says, "Teppus, is it just me or do you like making characters that can reduce ANYTHING to a fine red mist?" <OOC> Teppus says, "2d4+12 becomes 6d4+36. :D" <OOC> Donk says, "HOOOOOLYBALLS"
As Gragnar is struck down, Teppus advances on the creature just a step. And then it falls over.
Really.
It's more like he just *rammed* the guisarme through it, cut it half, and left it in scraps on the floor. He wrenches the guisarme free, then, giving a quick glance to Qat. She knows what to do.
<OOC> Harric says, "We're pretty much out of initiative now so >.> Pose away!" <OOC> Qat will cast another channel, then CLW on Gragnar. GAME: Qat rolls 1d6: (4): 4 GAME: Qat rolls 1d8+2: (6)+2: 8
The mini-saur fairly EXPLODES into cogs, as Teppus cleaves it into many pieces, and blue magilectric energy fizzles into the air, as it falls into nothing like its robotic brother.
GAME: Qat casts Shield of Faith. <OOC> Qat is derp, and has been reminded she has a wand. <OOC> Qat quietly takes back the channel and CLW. T_T <OOC> Harric XD <OOC> Qat says, "That CLW roll will be directed to Donk, then." <OOC> Qat casts next 3 CLW on Gragnar. GAME: Qat rolls 3d8+6: (10)+6: 16 <OOC> Qat says, "2 on Teppus." GAME: Qat rolls 2d8+2: (10)+2: 12
Gragnar lets out a roar, still clutching the head of the mini-saur that'd been on his back, and slams it into the ground. He blinks a bit, noticing that there's not NEARLY as much dinosaur as there should have been, he turns and notices the shattered remains. "Ah," he says, his wounds already starting to knit as Qat does her thing. The shirt, however, will never be the same. Oh well, it looked cheap.
<OOC> Qat says, "1 more on Grag." GAME: Qat rolls 1d8+2: (3)+2: 5
Ashlynn's hand already has a new arrow in it, but the motion of nocking it pauses as Teppus absolutely decimates the remaining foe. Giving the paladin a silent salute for the show of combat prowess, the woman scans the chamber for any other imminent threats - and seeing none, straightens (why, yes, the imitation of a pole does seem rather a default thing for her!) and lowers the weapon slowly. The arrow is returned to the quiver, for now. "This is artifice?" she asks, peering at the automaton that is still relatively in one piece. "I have never seen something like this." Someone hasn't traveled a whole lot, it appears.
<OOC> Qat says, "7 charges." GAME: Qat used a Qand of Qure Light Qounds. GAME: Qat used a Qand of Qure Light Qounds. GAME: Qat used a Qand of Qure Light Qounds. GAME: Harric damaged Gragnar for -30 points. 21 remaining. GAME: Qat used a Qand of Qure Light Qounds. GAME: Qat used a Qand of Qure Light Qounds. GAME: Qat used a Qand of Qure Light Qounds. GAME: Qat used a Qand of Qure Light Qounds. <OOC> Qat apologizes for spam! <OOC> Teppus says, "It's good. BEtter to hang onto the spells and channels. :)" <OOC> Qat says, "Teppus, can you magick it so I can get back the Shield of Faith?" <OOC> Harric says, "Did you heal Teppus too or just Grag?" <OOC> Harric says, "And/or Donk?" <OOC> Qat says, "Yep! +12 on Teppus, and um." <OOC> Harric is no longer able to hold all these limes! I mean -- actions! <OOC> Qat says, "+8 on Donkadonk."
GAME: Harric damaged Teppus for -12 points. 28 remaining. GAME: Harric damaged Donk for -8 points. 23 remaining.
Donk gets ready to launch Tiny Gnomish Death on the dino... but Teppus easily bisects it. He pauses, looking at the two pieces of metal on the ground, then up to Teppus with a look of awe on his face. "Sir... you have made the Donk's pants a little wet. I salute you." He starts to shift his weight, wincing, but the touch to his back suddenly has him blinking as the pain fades completely. Turning, he smiles at Qat and takes her hand. "I owe you and your goddess thanks. My blessing upon /you/." Doffing his hat, the gnome waggles stark orange eyebrows at Qat, and gives her hand a sloppy kiss.
The sight of Teppus annihilating the mechanical creature is something to behold. Mouth dropping open a little, Qat is struck dumb, the bits and pieces of sparking metal reflected in her thick glasses which have steamed up a little from the excitement of the fight, of course. Starting out of her stupor, she reads Teppus' brows like the book they almost are and moves her zig with all haste. Digging in her other pants pocket, she pulls out an intricately qarved qand, er, wand. As always, one end holds a brush. Kneeling by the falling Yrch, she quickly begins scribing flowing Xian words on the big fellow. From head to toe, the green one now sports magical calligraphy. Flipping the brush over, she taps the blunt end sharply onto Gragnar's forehead. In a flash, the words disappear, seeping under skin and mending wounds as if they had never been there. She does not wait to see the effect of her handiwork, however, already moving to draw more words on Donk's oversized helment, at arm's length because, wolf tongue, and one Teppus. In moments, all who were hurt are fine and GETTING BETTER.
"Treat the Priestess of Sewwi-... *Serriel* with respect, sir," is Teppus' order to Donk. The waggled eyebrows are definitely given a look from Teppus. Still, he looks pleased with the results of his guisarme strike. Very pleased. He seem to feel better after Qat's help as well, to be sure, giving her a polite nod of his head.
"It ded now," Gragnar remarks, kicking both constructs vindictively, but smiling. "Thanks," he says to Qat, and looks around. "Have we won?" he asks as he inspects the darkness, just in case another one comes running.
GAME: Gragnar rolls perception: (13)+3: 16 <OOC> Harric says, "Nothing else seems to be coming."
Nope, nothing else. Gragnar lets out a laugh and throws his hands up like a victorious boxer.
Finding her hand caught by the cavalier's, Qat offers Donk a watery smile that almost cracks when her hand is then slobbered on. For Sewwiel, er, Serriel. "It is a test. A test." she repeats to herself. To the littlest Donk, she 'ehehes' and gingerly pulls her hand away. Turning her back to everyone, she hurriedly summons some water to wash her besaliva'ed hand.
After watching it for a long time, Ashlynn gives the fallen mechanical dinosaur a poke with her longsword - to be sure it isn't about to get up, and because curiosity (which she'll never admit she -has-) is getting the best of her. Her expression is a little dazed. It's been a REALLY odd day so far. Realizing what she's doing, she quickly slams the longsword back into the scabbard and clears her throat. "We should explore this place, once the priestess is finished with the mending." she suggests. Look! Task! Focus! Forget you just saw her curiously poking a construct with a sword! "Right," Gragnar says gutterally, with a nod to Ashlynn and looks around. "Stick ta groups, and don't wonda off ta much," he suggests, and starts walking off, waving one of them after him.
"Good sir, I /am/ giving /all/ my respect to this lovely cleric!" Donk says, turning an offended look to Teppus, which gives Qat enough of a window to pull her hand away. "There's little more The Donk can do to show his gratitude, unless..." He turns a thoughtful eye to Qat again, looking her up and down. "You're not exactly The Donk's type... But he /is/ very grateful..." Thoughtfully, the gnome starts stroking his beard, pondering.
<OOC> Harric says, "This is the one thing I never could think of, is how to wrap this up, really. >.> So, there's nothin' left." <OOC> Harric says, "Assume that you spent a few hours sorting and there were a few artifacts to go back and be logged/dealt with/what-have-you."
Donk thoughtfully touches the pigment on his helm before pulling it off to admire Qat's handiwork. "Very nice! Though the Donk has to admit, he doesn't see the resemblance." Holding it up beside his face, Donk gives Qat a very cheesy grin.
Since her back is still to the rest, Qat does not catch Donk's beard stroking nor his very cheesy grin. A chill still rushes down her spine, perhaps her Goddess sending her a warning. Gragnar's words are an opportunity not to be squandered and she hops to, somehow managing to use the Yrch's bulk to keep a wall of green between herself at Donk and wolf tongue.