Scene: Something in the Water
Tenebrae - Saturday, April 14, 2012, 7:13 PM
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* Armsmasters Arena *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=--=--=--=--=--=<* Outside the North Gates - Eldwyn Road *>-=--=--=--=--=--=-
Clusters of leafy green trees form borders along the country road as one moves towards or away from the city. Branches begin to obscure the sky, whether bright blue and cloudless or gray and stormy. Tall meadow grasses sway in the breezes that weave their way through the clusters of trees. Wild flowers grow abundantly, mingled with the grasses, and overhead birds can be seen flitting through the canopy.
Alexandria sprawls in the distance to the south and beyond her lies the expanse of the great gulf of Arcania, glittering like a bed of blue-green jewels. The great river winds its way south through the forested area and logging encampements and buildings can be seen as well as a ferry which allows for crossing for those who plan to head further east towards the mountains as opposed to north into the woods.
Spring has sprung, and Alexandrians have taken advantage of the warmer weather to get out and about. In this particular afternoon, a fair number of people have desided to have a picnic out in the fields north of the city. No major planning was arranged, just lots of people getting a similar idea at the same time, so organization is poor, but the mood is festive, and there seems to be plenty to go around. Children play on the grass, while parents relax in the shade. A small stream burbles quietly at the far edge of the field.
"Oh, I /do/ so love a picnic." The voice says. The sound comes from a sphere, a quite round one that rolls rather than observes any other sort of forward movement. Atop the sphere is a cheerful, if balding countenance. A pair of rose-colored lenses rest atop a proud, gnomisn gnose. And so it must follow...if there is a head, there must be feet...but despite the rolling, and bobbing of the wandering gnome, gnone of these may be seen--no leather, no cheerful buckles are discernable.
A pod-like shape emerges from the sphere, to grasp the reins of a pony near as round as he is. The pony's soft gray color bounces along the landscape, and its lazy expression marks it the Most Content Pony in the World. On the elderly gnome's other side, another pod-like shape grasps Myrana's hand. And the two of them are decked out in what might be called 'picnic gear.'
Munch has dug a firepit not too far from where some tables have been set up, and is trying to build a spit to roast the deer carcass resting on a tarp near by. Probally best not to ponder too much why the back of the deer's neck has been bitten off.
Melbert arrives on the scene, carrying a small basket, looking a bit concerned about being here. "This is where the picnic is being held?" he asks people at large. Well, it clearly is. "Only I've brought some potato salad, because they gave me so many potatoes, and I thought I should try and share. Is there a place to put it?"
Who's good for a party? Emir's good for a party! Always! The lovely Veyshanti man strolls into the area, blanket under one arm and strange, colorfully decorated straight-horn in the other. He may not have come with an entourage, but he certainly expected one would show up eventually if he just tootled away for a while. How pleasant a surprise it is, then, to find people already gathering here! "What a lovely day!" he proclaims to the gathering picnickers. "I'm certain potato salad will be fine, strapping young fellow! I only brought entertainment, but I hadn't an inkling there'd be a picnic here besides mine."
Springtime and a discounted price on buns are enough to bring out a slim figure who did not get the message to dress down for the occasion. Veiled and cloaked, at least in a lighter weight of material, Vala makes a bit of a cool antithesis to all the bright Alexandrians taking a bit of fresh air. The basket she carries is filled almost to the brim with victuals and the corner of a tightly folded blanket, though her skirts enough could probably form a lovely, airy pavilion if she really wanted to. One step at a time, she glides down the road at a slow pace.
The elderly gnome pats Myrana's hand again. As they roll to a slow stop (well, Myrana makes a much better show of this 'walking' thing), he releases it to clasp his hands together. He practically beams behind the rose-tinted lenses, and turns around to look at it all. "Oh! What splendor! What wonder! Why, it's perfect! Now..." he says, and his voice deepens, takes on a Shine, a full Baritone from youth's years in the theatre, "It is TIME! For a PICNIIIIC!" And by such words, he could well have a cape flowing dramatically behind him.
"It's a fine day for it, to be certain." Myrana agrees, walking at a comfortable, controlledly slow pace alongside the minor planet that is Abrahil. A spring outing dress of soft peaches and whites rustles about her, with the trail of it's bustle sweeping at the grass and a straw sun hat to compliment it resting atop the black upsweep of her hair. Carrying an enormous basket over one arm, Myrana seems mindful of the breeze's attempts to rob her of the kerchief keeping it's contents well protected, while holding Abrahil's hand in the manner of a patient young woman attending an elderly relative. The weaving creaks and groans in protest beside her hip, and there's just a touch of sweat on her white neck above the lace collar of her dress. "Why don't you pick a spot for us to set out the drinks and such," she suggests in what she hopes is a cheerful tone, struggling to keep her cool. This basket is like... five babies. Five babies and a fatassed nanny, all crammed into all too mortal wicker structure. It's heavy.
Munch raises a blood covered hand, slick with gore, and waves to the strangers, far from the secure city walls... though he's waving hello, over a deer about to be roasted, with a few members of the Guard wandering about, on a bright sunny afternoon; so less scary then might be. "Think they're putting side dishes under the trees there. Roast will start in a little bit, fire's almost ready. Greetings, welcome, and all that, by the way."
Melbert nods to Emir about the potato salad being fine, and when Munch calls out to put it over by the trees, he eagerly scampers off to do just that. Just in case the War Golem gets more hungry than one deer can sate. He takes a couple big bowls from his basket, and puts a spoon in each. And so, potato salad. It is good.
"Oh, hello there!" Abrahil wriggles his fingers at Munch in a way that suggests the conversation might start with 'Oh, hello there!' and then wind into half the day and more of it. At Myrana's prompting, though, his face forms a sort of oh! and the round little fellow hurries to the side of the Roundest Pony in the World. "Of course, my dear. ...you know...oh! I hope the blankets will match. I picked out the--you know the one. It has the green trim on it. So festive with the grass, I think. ...and oh, hello! I love your veil! I used to have one just like it!" to Vala.
Eventually Vala sails in closer to the rest of the crowd. She clasps both hands around the basket's handle, training in on Munch's bloody hand. Directions are plain enough to follow, and she nods. "Over this way?" Her clear soprano breaches into areas foreign to some ears, a definite accent cast over the question. Just as she orients to where the war golem is, distraction ambushes her from the flank. Oh no! Dark eyes widen; the portly gnome catches her attention and she tilts her head, long veils shivering. "Thank you. I hope you may find another."
Munch hefts the deer onto the spit, double checking will sit firm before wandering towards the tables of sidedishes. A trio of hobgoblin teens take over keeping the meat turning on the spit, making a challenge of turning the heavy load constantly and evenly. The basting is less of a game, but still important. Munch peers with idle curiousity at the selection taht's built up, but takes care not to touch anything, his hands are still dirty. But that's okay, he'll have the blood all licked off in a minute.
Melbert is pleased with himself, it seems, for the sharing, though he doesn't drift far from the food, anticipating a good meal once the deer is roasted.
<OOC> Melbert gahs, fades into background. Suddenly hit wall of tired.
Melbert has disconnected.
Emir's brows lift high at the deer. "Now that's a mighty fine beast," he comments cheerfully, as he starts to spread his blanket. "It looks like you caught it yourself? Or at least, skinned it." He pauses to survey the others around, and offers a friendly wave. "Fellow picnickers! A fine day to you."
"Oh! ...well, it was quite unique. I had it when I was a child...such happy memories..." the gnome gives a gnigh, and gives a little wave to Emir before turning back to The Most Important Task of fetching a picnic blanket from the pony's broad back. "Bill, m'dear, just stand still a moment longer. I'll have our blanket out in a jiffy!" And Bill the pony could look as though, well, really...he is a /contented/ pony. His eyes slide half-shut, and he might take a nap right there. Regardless, the gnome takes the time to pat the pony's shoulder (it's hard to tell) in what's meant to be a bit of comfort. "Oh! And just smell the roast...!" No matter how...indelicately...Munch has it presented!
Fruit and salad are among the choices which Vala lays out. Small wooden bowls covered in cheesecloth are laid out for the benefit of other picnickers and diners. She polishes up a few apples discreetly, then reviews her work. Good enough, she withdraws back to find a place for spreading out her blanket. Since Emir's glorious style beckons to all and sundry with eyes, she just happens -- really, just like that -- to settle a few things out.
Munch is a barbarian, 'delicate' is when you use the one handed weapon. He nods to Emir. "Caught, cleaned, skinned, and now roasted. Usually don't put so much into it, but had caught one earlier, startled this one on the way back. After the winter this place had, figured would share."
Emir nods sagely to Munch's summation. "That's a rather impressive feat! I'm certainly not the kill 'em and eat 'em type. Actually, I don't even eat meat. But that does look like quite the handsome creature." He gives a handsome, white-toothed smile so brilliant you can practically hear the 'schwing!' and he plops down on his blanket with strange horn in hand. "Excuse me! Sir Gnome -- I have never seen such a fat little pony in my life! It's absolutely /adorable/!"
Myrana takes a deep breath. Patience! But she is a supreme liar, and so her face remains composed in seraphic contentment rather than the 'god please gods let me set this down' panic she is feeling. Not quite so contented as the roly poly pony-- but it approaches. Looking over at Vala, Myrana smiles in greeting, brightening when she sees the salads the elf lays out. Myrana 's arm trembles.
"Oh! And the salami...we did remember the salami, didn't we?" Abrahil chatters away. He's found the blanket...a blanket.../the/ blanket, and the green monstrosity he bundles arm over arm until the round little gnome can nary be seen. The blankets tassels sprawl wildly, and it gives the whole thing, the blanket, the gnome, a sort of brush-like appearance. And so, the brush, the pony, begin to bumble towards a spot to set up camp. "Excuse us...coming through...!" as he passes Vala and Munch and others. He ends up nearby Emir, and beaming, tosses the blanket out onto the grass.
"Here, that looks heavy. Let me take it for you." Munch offer to take Myrana's basket, steel reinforced limbs perfectly willing to take the burden. The barbarian might not be the most perceptive, but his kind can sence traps, and an annoyed Lady is a trap of the worst sort. The golem blinks curious at Emir. "You don't eat meat? Why not?"
<OOC> Vala is afraid she's fallin' asleep. I'll grab RP later! :) Vala has disconnected.
"Oh-- yes we did," says Myrana, the heels of her shoes sinking into the grass like artillery spikes under the added weight of the basket. The salami is in there, alright. That and everything else known to man. Slow and steady wins the race! Careful! Caaaarefuuul--! Of course, she notices Emir's smile too, and in that moment of distraction, very nearly runs into the helpful Munch. When she looks up, the little half-elf very nearly loses a shoe, and jumps back with a startled yelp. "OH! Oh! N-no, no that's... that's uh--"
Abrahil beams and reaches up to pat Myrana's hand with a smile. And the elderly little fellow begins--well, there's no other word for it--ushering her over to the blanket. "Oh, it /is/ a lovely day, isn't it? ...and oh, such company. Why, hello! I'm Abrahil Fizzletorque Brindlegear...and this is Myrana." She is single. The gnome pats Myrana's hand again in a most grandfatherly fashion before looking to Munch and the basket. And bumbling over that direction then, to see what he might help with.
"She's most wonderful with Mr. Bill," Abrahil informs Emir modestly, over his shoulder. ...though, the round, elderly gnome is such that it may be difficult to tell he has a shoulder at all...or even, really, that he turned his head.
Emir has an oh-so-cheerful smile ready for Abrahil and Myrana, as he drapes the horn across his lap. "A pleasure! I am Emir Zalaahd, ~adventurer~! Miss Myrana, Mister Brindlegear, you are of course welcome to sit nearby. Would you fancy a story? I hear tell I'm quite good at them! Or, well, passable. The same goes for you, ah... um..." His eyes squint to peer at Munch scrutinizingly. "Strange Roasting Creature," he deems. "You are welcome to swap tales as well, if you are so inclined."
"Oh, we'd be /delighted/!" Abrahil responds, before Myrana can say a word!
Munch is single as well. And probally going to stay that way for a very long time. "They call me Munch." He nods politely to Myrana. "You're at the Ox, right? Hear you make good drinks, but guess my timing's bad, havn't had a chance to try any." He nods to Emir as well. "I'd be happy to listen. Tale telling makes for thirsty work though, right? I'll fetch some drinks. Lemonade okay with everyone?"
Single! Myrana catches on that unspoken tidbit and fixes the top of Abrahil's cherubim head with the beginnings of a truely acid look. "I'm--" Myrana swallows, a clammy hand running down her back. And she realizes-- this is probably a very embarrassing way to die; holding a picnic basket and wearing a dress her elderly friend picked out for her. So she clams up and skitters past Munch with a quick 'oh yes there is the blanket now', and sets the heavy basket down. Something inside clinks quite soundly. "Pleased to meet you, mister Emir," Myrana says, cursing the fate that gave her witnesses to this most ignomious of onrushing ends. "Let me just ah-- oh," She clears her throat. "Why yes, thank you I-- Lemonaide sounds fine."
"Oh, yes. Lemonade...why, it was my favorite drink when I was a boy..." the gnome falls to reminiscing for a moment, as an older gentleman will. He eyes the basket for a moment and then...well, then a smile spreads over his features. And he tosses his sleeves back in Dramatic Fashion and gives a wave of his fingers, "Aha!" ...and a quiet rush of color and sparkles spiral out and around the basket. It gently tugs, and the lid opens. ...and then food begins to fly out of it, to settle neatly and gently onto the blanket, with a flourish here and a spark there. Were there dancing mice and singing birds, it might complete the image.
"Lemonade would be simply /marvelous/," Emir enthuses, as he stays right where he is. He doesn't help, or even have food to share. He just seems to sit in his regal way, quite pleased. He does give Myrana a little half-bow, though, ever smiling. Abrahil's magic basket, though, gets a very pleased look from the man. "How quaint! Is that a spell?"
Munch nods, and heads to the shade trees where some pitchers have been mixed. A bit awkward, but he manages to hold a pair of cups in each hand, long fingers carefully securing for the return trip, offering a wooden cup to Myrana, Abrahil, and Emir in turn, keeping the last for himself. (Ladies and Elders first)
"Why...it's /magic/! Sort of like Munch here, you see...just a little here, a little there...oh! Well...oh! Thank you very much!" the gnome replies, looking pleased. His gnomish gnears turn a bit pink at the praise, and his shoulders give a little shake in laughter. And the voice had come out in a baritone whisper--as though on stage at the theatre, itself. And a little wriggle of the fingers, and a bit of potato salad hops and skips and spins! delightedly to settle near Myrana's dear ankles. Presumably, /daringly/, Emir might follow the movement. Scandalous ankles! Abrahil tries so hard to point out Myrana's most handsome features. Such dainty ankles!
Myrana takes a seat, the skirts of her dress arranged about her with a distracted brush of her hands. She smiles back at Emir, then accepts the cup a bit nervously from Munch. "Thank you," she says. Hard salamettis reveal themselves from the sturdy basket alongside little crocks of decadent cream- and hard- cheeses. Apple rings there are and other dried fruits, and a loaf of dark bread. A small crock of honey can be seen, and at the very bottom there is a glass growler jug of something dark and evil looking. The label, carefully pasted on, reads 'rat poison'. Slanting a suspicious look at Abrahil, Myrana reaches in and prudently removes the label, tucking it into her sleeve.
Emir acquires his lemonade last, but doesn't seem too broken up about it. In fact, he flourishes, "Thank you!" And he takes a drink, before setting it down and plucking up a bit of cheese from Myrana's spread. He doesn't seem much fazed by the ankles, unfortunately. "Don't mind if I do, miss! Now! I would like to tell the tale of the fiercest dragon fighter there ever was..."
Munch sits himself down to listen to the tale, peering with idle curiousity towards the basket. Perking slightly at the mention of dragons, he turns focus towards Emir, and takes a sip from his cup. A moment later, the golem's pupil-less eyes blink, and glow red. Ichor pulses under his skin, and flesh pulls back from the bone of his fingers, leaving only sharp steel behind. Half rolling atop the blanket, the barbarian's arm flashes towards Myrana! ...and knocks aside her cup of lemonade. "Poison." The golem stands, bellowing loudly "THE LEMONADE HAS BEEN POISONED!" For someone who technically doesn't need to breathe, he's got quite the set of lungs.
Myrana gasps as the cup is knocked out of her hand.
"Why--" Abrahil stutters to a halt in horrified silence, and the gnome tries his best--valiantly!! to stand up! And he tries and tries and with the aid of an angry gesture and a flow of sparkles he finally /succeeds/ in gaining to his feet (which promptly disappear). And then he scurries over to stand bravely in front of Myrana! "Back! Back, I say! What fiend is this!"
Emir blinks, and drops his cup like a hot coal. "Oh my goodness gracious, what the devil!" The lanky man is on his feet and gripping his throat, because gasp! He /drank/ that lemonade! "What kind of poison? Can any of you dispel it? Oh, goodness!"
Munch's jaw cracks open, the bottom half of his face splitting apart to allow his long black tongue to snake out, dipping into his own cup. After plucking out a slice of lemon and squeezing it like a
constrictor, the tongue twirls around in the cup a moment before retracting, the halves of Munch's jaw snapping closed again. "Okay, not poison. Toxic chemicals. Industrial. Trace amounts. A cup or
two probally won't hurt, but several could make you very sick." His glowing eyes fadeing to a light orange, Munch turns his attention towards the woman who'd been mixing the drinks. Her face has gone
white, glancing between the picthers and the golem in shock and disbelief. "Where did you get the ingredients?"
Abrahil stands his ground...well, as much standing as a gnome might do, and as bravely as he might try. His skin is pale and a sweat has broken out over his chins--they shake, shimbling. And he takes in a breath, "Oh! Such a terrible thing. ...do you mean to say it's a...oh...well, I really do hesitate..."
Emir's expression contorts into /affront/. Sure, poison didn't get indignance, but this does? "Well /I never/," he huffs, and he too shakes, fists clenching. "What an /awful/ thing to do to a person! I was /quite/ looking forward to that lemonade, I'll have you know!"
Myrana finally gathers her wits enough to rise up carefully to her feet and pat the poor noble Abrahil on the shoulder. "Did you drink any, my dear?" she asks him, then looks over at Emir where he clutches at his throat. "Oh dear-- here." And she bends down in a flumph of skirts, pulling the top off of the jug she brought along. A glass clinks out of the basket, stacked along with a few others-- she brought extra, knowing Abrahil's butterflyism-- and fills it to the brim with the foaming, dark liquid. "Drink this cider, there's plenty of good things in it, there's a good man. I hope no-one drank very much of it."
"Oh! The Cider!" and the round little fellow makes a beeline for it. He flumphs down side-by-side, just as it were any other--well, as though it were a picnic. "Oh, you always know what to bring, m'dear. ...Munch, you really ought to try this," he says to the robot-person. He beams as he does, his cheeks drawing up like two round apples around his rose-tinted lenses.
The Lemonade Woman sputters, looking at the small bag of sugar and chopped lemons as if they're turned to spiders. If she'd ment to poison anyone, she's a very good actress. "The- the- the- market! I bought the sugar this morning! And the lemons along the way! I thought the vedor was just a nice old man! OH! Billy! He ate a lemon when he went to fetch the water! Billy! Where are you?"
"Fetch where?"
"Billy! What?"
"Where did Billy fetch the water?"
"From the steam of course. Do you think he fell in? BILLY!"
But the golem is already hurrying away, headed across the field with long strides towards the innocent looking stream.
Billy, for his part, hides in the trees. He only snitched one cookie, he had no idea mom would be so upset!
Myrana helps Abrahil pour a glass of the scumbly brown cider. It smells rather distressingly like cinnamon and the angriest apple had an angry little baby together.
Myrana straightens then, and goes about to anyone at the picnic who is looking ill, pouring them glasses of the stuff and checking their faces with a cool hand.
<OOC> Abrahil bounces away!
Abrahil goes OOC.
Abrahil has left.
The are a fair number of picnicers looking quite ill, a few even vomiting in the grass. But this seems more a psychological effect then anyone actaully poisoned.
"O--oh, no it's free, sir," Myrana can distantly be heard saying to a quite rosy-cheeked looking man some distance away.
<OOC> Myrana says, "Thank you guys for the RP XD"
<OOC> Myrana says, "I gotta take a brain break"
Vala goes OOC.
Vala has left.
Myrana goes OOC.
Myrana has left.
<OOC> Emir considers. "Well, just the two of us left! If you were hoping to get a little investigation going, maybe we could pause and come back to it? Otherwise, it was an awesome twist. :D I liked it."
<OOC> Munch had sorta hoped. I don't get to spend a lot of time playing, usually have to take off for work by now.
<OOC> Emir drags in Donk or Eleria perhaps?
<Meet> Emir summons Eleria
Eleria has arrived.
<Meet> Emir summons Eleria.
[Public] Munch says, "Breaking news! Poisoned Picnic! Adventurers Investigate! Film at 11....th century, when we invent that technology! +meetme for more information!"
Meet> You offer to meet Cesran.
Cesran has arrived.
<Meet> Cesran joins you.
Emir, all afront and aflutter, looks quite pale himself. At least he's not joining in with the vomiting, and he has the grace not to snatch the cider out of Myrana's hands. No no, that would be quite ungentlemanly. Still, he is QUITE upset, and when Munch goes hurrying off to check the stream, the lanky man is launching off after him. "I daresay that if there's some sort of sludge monster in the stream, I'm going to be absolutely steamed!"
The picnic started out so lovely, a cheerful gathering on a warm afternoon. Now people are looking scared and ill, and someone is shouting about poison. Not the best start for a picnic. Or maybe your family does things diffrent, we don't judge.
Sometimes, you're out for a nice walk. Not looking for trouble of any kind. You maybe just want to go out and smell the roses. Not the vomit.
Eleria approaches the retreating group, the diminuitive wood elf plugging her nose in disgust. "I could smell the sick from a crow's flight downwind! What's going on here? What kind of city party ends with vomiting in the middle of the park?" City folk. GAWD.
Cesran is walking down the Eldwyn Road as he's been out of the city doing some studying some of the nature that is outside of the city. He hears some people shouting about poison and he wanders over to
see if he can be some help although he's had little training in the healing arts. He looks around to see what's going on.
Munch keeps fairly calm, all things considered, kneeling down at the edge of the small stram and dunking his head in. If one cares to look closely, one can see his long black tongue swirling around in the water. Most don't care to look at that. With a small splash, the golem sits up again, shaking off droplets from his 'dreadlocks'. "Told you people, it's not actaully poison. Just toxic waste. You'll probally be fine, though the whole steam is tainted. Didn't think there was any industry out this far, they're usually pretty good about keeping this sort of stuff contained."
Eleria says, "Toxic WHAT??" Eleria looks absolutely disgusted down at the water, then at the people all around her. Carefully, she edges up beside Munch, giving the...thing a hard, sidelong glance. "How many people are sick? Do you know what kind of waste?""
Emir jogs up behind Munch, wrinkling his nose. "Toxic waste. Is this -- is this a byproduct of artificery? Blasted devils!" Nevermind that Munch is, y'know...artificed, himself. "Good afternoon, miss. You're just in time to see our lovely picnic ruined by cads!" Cesran, though, is lost in the sea of similar people, slowing down to see what's going on.
Cesran hmms as he moves though the sea of humanity and he hears Toxic Waste. HE moves over towarsd the river and he spots Munch. "Hello there Munch. What's going on? I heard something about toxic materials in the water? If you like I can offer my assistance, but my skills at healing are not the best."
Munch clicks in what's probally a sound of annoyance. "Pretty sure everyone's fine, just easily spooked. The contamination level is pretty low. The stuff is Nepelin-... Nepilenisha-.... no, I don't know the proper name for it, but used in engines. Not too bad if you treat it properly. But tastes like some got loose."
Eleria shoots a quick glance to the man suddenly talking to her, already getting distracted by the events at hand. She doubletakes at the most.../fabulous/ looking human male she's seen in a while. "....cads, you say?" This is all throwing her a little off balance. She grimaces and shudders at Munch's remarks. "Oh /UGH/! That. You're saying it's fairly nontoxic toxic waste, then? Perhaps an infirmary trip for people would be the best idea." She puts her hands on her hips, eyeing the surrounding groups who are going green at the gills. "Some look like they're in desperate need of some fresh water."
"CADS," Emir confirms, with a little wrist-flip of indignance. "Because who else but cads would let slip this Nepil-epil-toxin into the stream? In all my experience, those who work so flippantly with dangerous chemicals are /cads/, my good elf." He gives a little huff, and a puff, and crosses his arms to blow himself out with a sigh. His 'experience,' of course, is stories, so that lends a little... extravagance to his thought process, perhaps. "I think an infirmary trip would be just the thing. I know /I'm/ feeling a little queasy. You, good sir, perhaps you should round up more sick people?" He gestures at Cesran. Gesture gesture. GAME: Cesran rolls knowledge/artifice: (15)+10: 25
Cesran listens to Munch as the problem is described to him as what is going on. He thinks for a moment and he looks at the Emir, "Well gathering up people isn't really what I do. Sometimes accidents do happen and toxic chemicals can be spilt without anyone realizing what's going on. I would suggest that you get these people to the local clerics to find out what's going on and if they will be all right."
Munch tsks, giving the impression he'd roll his eyes if they weren't featureless orbs. "Geeze, mention toxic waste and you people go all aflutter. Stuff isn't good, but it won't kill anyone. They'll puke it up before can ingest that much, and don't think anyone is going to be drinking more lemonade anyway. Bother the clerics if you like, but I'm headed upsteam to see where this stuff got into
the water, and if anything else is in the making."
Eleria watches Emir's hand flip about, like a cat watching a bird, and her angled brows come together in mild confusion. The heck? "Do you expect foul play, sir? Or just misfeasance?" She reaches out to try and take his sleeve, raising her voice, "Excuse me! Anyone who's feeling queasy, please follow me! We'll get you the medical care you need!" The little elf can't help but smile, even as she tries to look serious. She's ~helping~! She glances back at Munch. "I'll catch up in a bit. I'm certainly curious, myself."
Emir huffs. "Well you don't heal and you don't gather up people to take them where they /can/ be healed, so I don't know /what/ to do with you!" He makes a flippant, dismissive gesture, and looks instead to Munch, as Eleria takes over the gruntwork of getting people to help. "Hmm? Well, I don't know, myself, but I do know I'd like to find out!" And so he trots after Munch eagerly.
Cesran looks over at Munch, "Unfortunately people tend to react negatively when they might get sick from something they injested. People don't like to get sick." He looks over towards Eleria as she is trying to help and he looks at the Emir, "Well if you give me a moment to think I can try to help find out what the source of this problem is and to help prevent others from getting sick." He ponders for a moment before he uses prestidigitation to create a small display to get the crowds attention. He clears his throat, "Please proceed in a calm fashion back to the city and see your local cleric if you are feeling sick from having drank the water. The levels in the water should not make you sick, but if you are worried than a local cleric can help you. Please stay calm and you will be all right." He looks towards the other two as he would like to find out what's going on as well.
Munch heads upstream, not really waiting to see if others follow. The barbarins long legs and swift pace cover ground rapidly, but his actual progress is significantly slowly, weaving back and forth across the small waterway as he heads further into the wilds, checking anything that catches his attention... which includes the occasional squirrel. Dedication he has. A long attention span? Not so much.
Eleria is a little relieved that someone with a more...carrying? voice takes up the task of corraling the people, and she flips Emir a brief, relieved smile. At this point, a few more of the responsible citizens take the hint, and gather up the crowd to lead them towards medical care and fresh(er) water. Which leaves Eleria free to wander after Munch, which is suprisingly easy considering his path. As they get further into the woods, she quirks a small smile, putting on a braveish face. "Well, we'll see what someone has been doing to our water, and we'll get it fixed," the druid says, glancing to Emir, "Shouldn't be too hard, right?"
Emir looks a little more pleased, now that Things have gone on. "Good, good! Thank you," he says to Cesran with a little beam, and then he's following Munch! He's not really distracted by squirrels, but he does pause in bafflement whenever Munch does. "One hopes," he answers cheerfully to Eleria.
Cesran is happy that the people get moving without much fuss. He turns to follow after the others. He is careful as he looks around the stream to see if any of the other plants or animals are being affected by the toxins in the water. He nods politely to the Emir, "You are welcome."
GAME: Cesran rolls preception: (6)+preception: 6 You paged Cesran with 'Unsusprisingly, you see no signs of toxic effects. ;)'
GAME: Eleria rolls perception: (4)+12: 16 You paged Eleria with 'You don't see any particular signs of toxins. Plants look hale and hearty, and the squirrels run quite fast.'
Munch continues onward, the ground growing a bit more rocky and rugged, but still a far cry from true wilds. Patrols from the city may be rare, but they do come out this far, so the chance of a monsters lair is low. But, spring is a time for migration, so no promises to be made. The golem continues his wandering path, occasionally stopping to taste the water again. "Much industry as takes plce around here, kinda susprising how little pollution there is. Locals take care of their enviroment, I guess."
<OOC> Emir is starting to pass out @_@ I'll stick around as long as I can.
Eleria chuckles as Munch gets close to a particular tree, and the squirrels chitter loudly, energetically, and angrily at him to GTFO. "Well, the wildlife here certainly seems to be suffering no ill effects. Thank the Earth Mother for that." She still makes a face when Munch tastes the water, shaking her head. "The druids and the city council have been working together closely," she says, proudly, "To make sure that the wilderness is kept healthy, while still letting the people work in their factories. It's an uphill battle... but you're right, the locals are as fond of their land as we'd hoped."
Emir trots cheerily after Munch, though with Eleria's comment, he takes a closer look at his surroundings as they go. "Is that right? How fascinating!"
Cesran hmms as he walks along and he doesn't really see anything going on that would harm the locals. He nods, "Though my own research I have found that sometimes when you work with nature you can achieve better results than working against nature."
Munch mehs absently. "Always found it arbitrary what's called 'natural' and what isn't. Demons have been around as long as anything, but when when they-" The golem cuts off when the weeds start to grab for him. The far side of the stream is think with gnarled bushes, so this side seemd the easier route, a large pile of rock overgrown with small shrub and weeds. Though as the plantlife curls towards the golem, it may not have been the best call.
Eleria rolls her eyes at Cesran's comment, slipping in a snide remark, "Typical of wizards. They "discover" the simplest things that druids have known about for centuries." Emir's ebullience makes her smile, "Is it?" she asks with wrinkle of her nose towards the effervescent bard. She stops short when Munch does. "What's wrong? Did you see...oh. I see." Eleria's eyes widen to see the plants moving by themselves, and she unstrings her bow from her back, casting a glance around. "If there's anyone out there, we don't want to hurt you!~" she sing-whispers, as sweet as she can manage.
"Indeed, it is! I have a passion for learning the workings of the world," Emir effuses, and he even folds his fingers together cheerfully. But when Munch gets tangled up in plants, the bard frowns and reaches for his rapier. "Need a hand, sirrah? I can cut away the excess if needbe."
Cesran looks over to Munch, "Demons might have been around for milliniums, but they are not native to this plane, therefore they are not natural." He looks over at Eleria and he shrugs a little bit, "I'm sure there are plenty of wizards that have come before me to make that discovery."
Munch jumps back, but it swiftly becomes apparently the plants are not -attacking-. They're reactive to the golem's touch, curling towards the disturbance with tiny thorns, probally coated with something unplesant, like a poison ivy. Good way to keep the local herbavors away, though it does little but annoy the man with metallic skin. "That's diffrent. I've seen weeds a bit like that before, but none of those moved. Mutation, maybe?"
GAME: Eleria rolls knowledge:nature: (16)+knowledge:nature: 16 <OOC> Eleria says, "That should have a +8." You paged Eleria with 'Mutation. Bit like a stinging nettle, with a touch of praying fern. The base plant is local, though not common. Such mutations happen sometimes around artifice.'
Eleria relaxes a bit, when nothing leaps out at them, and moves towrds the golem, head cocked curiously at the weeds. She prods lightly at the plantlife, getting only as close as she dares. "Perhaps! Curious... seems similar to a normal stinging nettle but... hmmm... Actually..." Sheathing her bow, the druid pulls a small knife out off her hip and carefully attempts to cut a few strands of the weeds loose. She looks back to Emir with a smile. "You say you have a passion for learning, Vishanti? Here." She offers it up to him, "Careful handling it, it will likely sting. Sir golem was right, this is certainly a mutation. Happens frequently around artifice. I think this means we're getting close!" And she even sounds excited!
GAME: Cesran rolls knowledge/nature: (10)+10: 20 You paged Cesran with 'What Eleria said. Mutated type of nettle. Presence of artifice (radiation?) sometimes cause such things.'
Cesran sees Munch jump back and he has a spell ready incase something attacks. He moves forward cautiously as he can see the tiny thorns. He listens closely to Eleria's explanation and he nods a little bit, "Perhaps, but another herbavor might adapt so that they can digest the leaves and be unaffected by the poison or even use the poison in their own system so that they don't taste good to a predator." He leans a little closer, "Definitely a sign of artifice though in the mutation."
<OOC> Emir cannot read words anymore @_@ Sorry, I must pass out. <OOC> Emir says, "Thank you so much for the plot, Munch, it was fun!"
Emir has disconnected. Munch sighs, and peers a moment before stepping foreward again, carefully grabbing the plants near their roots and ripping out a path to proceed up the rock pile. "Annoying, but still faster then going around. Must be pretty close though, for an... hey... under the weeds. This stone look worked? Like, it used to be something?" Indeed, under the more natural shape of the plantlife, the stones of the pile are regular and squared, though long years of weather have round their edges.
"Yes, that's usually how nature works," Eleria says to Cesran, sounding more than a little exasperated. She hands Emir a small bit of cloth to wrap the plant sample in, and rises to follow Munch farther in, eyeing the plants around their ankles in fascination. Munch's comment gets her to look down. "Hmmm? Oh, now that you mention it...it does seem like we're on a path." She squints a ways forward into the trees, shielding her eyes. "I don't recall there being any ruins or anything near here..."
Cesran moves over towards what Much found and he hmmms as he leans down to get a better look at it, "Well perhaps this is the source." He tries to carefully move the plants aside to get a better look at what was found.
GAME: Eleria rolls perception: (15)+12: 27
<OOC> Munch gahs, somehow screen neglected to scroll...
Munch shrugs, clearing away more plants. The stings are irritating, but not dangerous. A thick glove should offer adiquate protection. "I think we're ON the ruin. Some sorta outpost or something? Look pretty old, hard to tell. Maybe once get these plants off it, get a good look, can tell more."
You paged Cesran with 'The way the 'structure', for lack of a better term, is placed, was built directly next to the stream. Why, can't yet tell. But while much has been worn away, are signs of breakage and scorch marks on the stone.' GAME: Cesran rolls knowledge/artifice: (12)+10: 22
Eleria awkwardly unfastens her glaive from her back, bringing it to bear before she carefully goes about sweeping at the vegetation on the ground, humming some quiet tune the whole time. Clearing weeds certainly is relaxing, it seems. "I'm not very well-versed in judging the age of buildings. No rings to count. How old would you say this is?"
Cesran hmms, "Yes it appears as if the facility is some sort of ruins that was used. It looks like that the seal has been worn away, although there are some signs of breakage and scorch marks like someone was trying to get in." He looks over towards Eleria, "Well judging on the wear pattern and what's leaking out of it, I'd say that it's very old. Being so close to the stream didn't help with the wear and tear on the building."
Munch nods. "Old. Altima period, maybe? Not too good at judeing myself. Though way some of those stones break...." The golem kneels down, peering at a crack between the rocks. "...yeah, looks like something used to stick out here. Pipe, or wires, or something. Ripped out or worn away, now. I'm going down to the water, see if is anything down there."
"Ugh." Eleria's angled features screw up in disgust. "So maybe there's some old reservoir of some kind of toxin down there?" She sighs. "Artificers. Making these dangerous things and then just leaving them irresponsibly. They should know that nature will get into anything they try to make, given a century or two." When Munch points out the crack, Eleria slips the blade of her weapon in there, probing about and prying, searching for any loose stones. She follows him down towards the water, still casting about curiously.
Cesran nods a little bit, "That's what it looks like although perhaps if we can find the missing piece we'll be able to repair it. I've been studying up on artifice since it seems very popular in this city." He heads out along with Munch to see if he can't find the missing piece or pieces.
Munch ehs. "Given the scorch marks and breakage, whoever made it probally died when it broke." The golem climbs into the flowing water, which is about waist high against the structure. "...looks like is some sort of flow thru. Water wheel, maybe? I can see some sort of metal. Maybe if I..." The golem presses up again, the stone, reaching his hand inside.
There is a sudden flash of blue light, a boom more felt then heard, and a puff of steam. Munch is thrown across the small stream, into the bushes on the other side.
".......I'm okay!"
Eleria squeaks in surprise as the ground shakes underneath them from the boom, and she puts her glaive end down for support. Eyes wide, she looks across the stream to where Munch lays in the bushes. "What was that?? Some kind of trap?"
Cesran watches as Munch starts to stick his hand in, "Uh..I wouldn't do that." He takes a step back and he turns his face away from the flash of blue like and the boom. "That's why." He looks across the stream and he looks at where Much put his hand, "I'm no expert on traps, so it might be trapped or he could have touched something he shouldn't have." He isn't going to stick his hand in as he studies where Munch put his hand in to determine what went wrong.
Munch struggles a moment to extract himself from the bushes. "The later, I think. Connected to a battery, or something. Looks like was a break not too long ago, stone finally gave out, water got to the parts taht wern't ment to go in the water. Probally where the toxins are comming from. Yeah, making the connection, while standing in water? That wasn't smart of me."
You paged Cesran with 'Dark inside, hard to see. But looks like metal 'fins' connected into the rest of the structure. Lowered into the water, they'd make pretty good heat sinks for whatever used to be here.' Cesran pages: About how much does it weigh to try to lift out?
Eleria comes up to the water's edge, eyeing it distrustingly, and offers Munch the blunt end of her Glaive. She digs her heels in, straining to try and help him up. "Yes? Okay. Ummm...I understood about half of that. So you're saying you think the toxins are coming out of there? But it has a battery in there?"
Cesran moves above the whole, "Let me try something." He casts a spell and he tries to reach out to grab the battery with the invisible mage hand. He tries to start to pull it out, "A battery like this could have plenty of toxins and it could just be a slow leak."
You paged Cesran with 'Hard to tell what exactly is connected, but probally pretty heavy. the battery itself is further inside the rock. The fins and connecting wire are what stick out towards the water.'
Cesran shakes his head as he breaks off the spell, "Sorry it's too heavy for me to lift out using mage hand, it looks like it can be rewired." He checks to make sure he's not in the water and he continues to look at the machine.
Munch gets up okay, peering t the rocks, but making no move to touch them again. "Maybe a battery. I don't know a huge amount about this stuff. Had some sort of power to it. Might have more, or could have just blown it all. Might be safest to look around the whole thing before sticking hands into any more holes. Whatever this used to be, needed someone to work on it, right? Must be a way to get to it all. Or was."
"If you're looking for a way to quickly dig it out," Eleria says, "I'm sure we can work something out. If this battery is leaking and making the water toxic, I'd prefer if we didn't just leave it here." Eleria starts to pace around the area, stroking her chin thoughtfully, squinting as she looks the area over.
<OOC> Eleria says, "Does it look like the battery can be dug out?"
<OOC> Munch says, "Eventually, sure. Quickly, not so much. And safely? No promises."
<OOC> Eleria says, "Works for me. Adding a quick pose..."
Cesran pages: Running off mana battery? will dispel magic stop electricity to get the battery out?
Eventually, Eleria finds a spot on the ground nearby, where she sits and closes her eyes. "Let's see if we can't get some help getting it out." A slow breath....and she settles down, mind turning inward.
<OOC> Eleria says, "Rolling Knowledge/nature, to figure out if there are any bears or digging animals in this part of the woods." GAME: Eleria rolls knowledge/nature: (17)+8: 25
Long distance to Cesran: Munch ponders, isn't sure how that should apply..... I'd be inclined to say the mana battery would be stopped from maming more electricity, but any buildup would remain. Like.... a Flameing Sphere would go out, but what was set on fire would still burn
From afar, Cesran nods, "Could unseen servant lift the rock out?
<OOC> Munch says, "bears, perhaps, but not likely. Too close to the city. Digging animals, probally be rabbits, chipmunks,and other small things near."
<OOC> Eleria says, "Badgers maybe? Something that could really move some dirt?"
You paged Cesran with 'unlikely. Is like a solid foundation, with a small cave water can flow in. The 'fins' go into the water for cooling, wires maybe ran ot what lowered them. far side of the wall has a new crack in it, where the toxins are probally leaking. Past that wall is where the machine guts are. Probally some way to get to those guts, but not thru this wall.'
<OOC> Munch says, "Maybe badgers (not certain their habitat). But most of this is stone. Cinderblock style, but natural rocks."
<OOC> Eleria says, "Ahhh, okay. I was imagining more cobblestones set in dirt. Nevermind."
Cesran pages: Knowledge artifice check to rewire it to work right? You paged Cesran with 'Not from here. You'd need to see the guts to have any idea. And even then, highly unlikely, given the wear and tear it's endured' Cesran pages: can I use repair light damage to fix this? You paged Cesran with 'This is more then light. Roughly half the structure is missing. And the remaining half has been sitting in the rain for years. You might salvage a useable battery, or transformer, or something for it all, but most likely be scrap materials to be melted down.'
Cesran shakes his head, "I don't think that would be very safe for either yourself or the environment to dig it out quickly." He continues to study the problem at hand as he goes though any likely scenarios that would help to fix the leak to stop it temporarily stop the leak. He rubs his chin, "It looks like we are going to have to salvage as much as we can." He looks to Munch, "If you like I can cast a spell on you to resist electricity that might provide some protection to you while you take it out."
Munch mmms, and nods. "It's been here a long time, but with that new break, don't think should stay here any longer. And doubt I did any good in makeing the break smaller." He nods to Cesran. "Not a bad idea, but if the spell doesn't last long, let's wait a bit. Want to see if there's anything on the far side of the pile, might be a big door waiting for us to just walk thru." Not particularly likely, but suppose could happen.
<OOC> Eleria says, "Unfortunately, I don't think I can stay for the conclusion. My eyes are too heavy and my brain is slowing down."
<OOC> Munch hrmms, skipps ahead a bit, instead of letting you miss out...
In searching the far side of the rock pile, the small group find there is indeed a door. A trap door, buried under a layer of dirt and rock. The stinging plants aren't helping matters either. Inside is a bit of machinery, as expected, though much of it broken and corroded. What remains is bits of a fair sized generator, drawing on the surrounding magic to power.... whatever it is that used to sit here. But alas the parts are worn beyond use, and the shock given to Munch was it's last gasp of activity... unless one cares to count the toxins released as the steam leaks thru fresh cracks in the wall, soaking the parts, before flowing out again. It will take some time and effort, but removing the old bits should prove perfectly possible, and the value of the scrap might even turn a decent profit for an afternoons work. but most importantly, the bits can be disposed of properly, and stop fouling the water downstream.
<OOC> Cesran says, "Thanks Munch. Bed time for this wizard"
Cesran goes OOC.
Cesran has left.
<OOC> Eleria hugs and zonks
Eleria has disconnected.