"Don't mind him. He's a boor."
Gryfford smiles.
"I win !"
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Pffffft. I win.
Hi everyone, I'm sorry to chime back in with bad news, but I'm afraid I have to pull out of this game. Real life precludes my continued time investment in that PbP. I've had great enjoyment in there, and I'd like to thank all the players and the DM who made them possible. I hope I was able to repay you in kind. Thank you for your time and camaraderie; I hope we cross paths again in those forums (and don't hesitate to PM me if you want) and I wish you the best for the rest of the game. Cheers, Quiche Lisp/Gryfford
"I'll take the first watch" Gryfford says, as he looks thoughtfully at the departing trio of Angus and the two young clerics-in-training.
"I've long suspected that books are bad for your health." Gryfford winks to Alia, obviously joking too. "Hmmm... anybody got an idea of what this gem was ? Is it the... how do you call it... that we're searching for ?"
"Don't be modest, Arasmes" Gryfford says, while smiling good-naturedly. "If you can translate that tome, well... we're all ears, I guess."
Gryfford considers the book on the table. "Is there some sort of Varisian scholar in Sandpoint, who could translate it for us ?" he asks.
To Arasmes: Gryfford thinks a little while before answering. "She seems a little strange, yes. But I attributed that to the fact that she's been left a long time mostly alone in that dusty old dwarf temple." The blond warrior smiles. "I decided not tho hold it against her - being strange, I mean. Aren't we all a little bit peculiar ?" he says while looking inquiringly at the dhampir. He shrugs.
Gryfford goes outside the temple to find Elorin. Spotting the Elf hunched over tracks in the gloom of night, he goes to him. To Elorin: "Taltosh and I found Marie. She's just praying at the altar in the sanctuary."
"There's no need for concern, I'd say. Anyway, let's go back inside."
Gryfford enters into the library to find Arasmes. To Arasmes: "Marie is praying at the altar in the sanctuary."
A slight pause. "Honestly, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Maybe you jumped the crossbow too quickly with her."
"I'll go with you, Taltosh" Gryfford says.
"I would say: away !" Gryfford answers Alexia. "Our enemy awaits us at the temple, and he seems to overnumber and owerpower us at the moment. We could try to go back to Sandpoint and to the temple of Erastil, if we manage to shake him from our trail." "Or we could run to another temple or to a sacred place, if there's one nearer than Mac Darrow's temple."
"Let us hurry !" Gryfford says. And as he says so, he shrinks, losing mass and size until he's his usual self again. "Hu ho !"
"Fear not, Alexia. I have this rear-guard thing under control !" "It seems the night has not fallen yet" Big Gryfford remarks while hasarding a glance towards the end of the tunnel. "Perhaps we are somewhat lucky, after all."
Gryfford looks at the light flowing from his armor: "I didn't know I was in so bright a mood !" he jokes, his voice deep but a little strained. "What do you think, o my thaumaturgical friends ?" Big Gryfford asks Adriel, Arasmes and Taltōsh:
Turning to the aasimar woman, Gryfford says:
"We have to get what we came for." "That seems a little compromised right now, Arasmes. We don't even know for sure what it is that we came searching for !"
Big Gryfford pushes on the door, intent on severing the zombie's arm sticking out of it and closing it.
Big Gryfford is the last to move towards the hidden door. If there's still time until the zombies invade the room, he tries to put the statue back in place to mask the door.
If there's no time, he passes through the hidden door, squeezing himself a little because of his height, and closes it behind him.
Gryfford blocks the exit, ready to slash anything that might try to go through it (except Arasmes' "animate").
Gran Rey de Los Stereo is banned for talking at lenght about food while I haven't eaten yet.
Bif Gryfford retreats with the others.
Realizing Arasmes is not following, Bif Gryfford pauses to help Alexia and Taltosh free him from the rubble.
Big Gryfford is in the rear-guard, holding back the zombies if need be, as he retreats toward the chapel with his companions.
Big Gryfford tries to free both himself and Arasmes in another surge of strength.
"Yaaaaah !" Bits of wood and plaster erupt from the rubble as Gryfford tears it apart, at last freeing himself and the young servant of the Dark.
Under the remnants of the ceiling, Big Gryfford braces himself so as to push up and bursts through the rubble.
Another lousy roll :-p ! At this rate, I won't have any crappy rolls left in store ;-) !
"Hell's Pit ! I'm trapped !" Gryfford bellows as he tries in vain to escape from the rubble piled on him. DM Awesome: Perhaps Gryfford could use his Enlarged strenght next round to escape from the rubble (i.e he could make a strength check) ?
My, what a lousy roll of the dice :-( !
Gryfford instinctively tries to get out of the way of the caving ceiling... but its new-found height and girth disorient him enough that he ends up staying right beneath it.
Gryfford rushes to block the hallway, his muscles bulging incredibly as he runs along the corridor, his arms drawing his falchion even has they elongate - until his entire self has grown tremendously, into a hulking yet swift version of the blond warrior. he bellows to his enemies, his big face distorted into a grim snarl.
"Could it be that this massacre you're talking about had something to do with Nikolaï ?" Gryfford asks. "What really happened here ? And if you don't know: are there documents here or somewhere else who could reveal it to us ?"
Gryfford nods at the somber elf's comment. He looks at Marie and smiles expectantly.
"Naive ! Ha ! The word you're searching for here, Arasmes is "charming" Gryfford says with a charming smile. Speaking to Marie: "The haemovore in question is one "Nikolaï." Gryfford's face hardens "That Nikolaï is truly a monster, in all senses of the word. And he has other monsters, like werewolves, to aid him in his vile endeavors.
To Marie, in the hoarse tongue:
"Very pleased to meet you, Marie. And, hmm, sorry about your doors !" Gryffords turns to Arasmes: "Maybe you could explain to Marie here, - she's a cleric of Angradd, by the way - why we've come in her church, Arasmes."
Gryfford notices the girl looking at Arasmes, and then looks at the white-haired man himself, before speaking to Adriel and to the others. Elven (in a strange, rough accent):
"She seems awfully concerned about Arasmes. I think we'll need to dispel some misconceptions she might have about him. My guess is that she fears a lot the... what's that word Arasmes uses ? Ha, it doesn't translate so well... the "Twice-Born", in his own words... a fancy way to mean <Undead>, apparently." Gryfford looks at the girl again, before speaking to her directly:
Elven (again with this grating accent):
"Do you speak Elven, by chance ? Boy, this would be mightfully awkward. But, really, we mean you no harm." A pause. And then, murmuring to himself in a hoarse tongue much more suitable for shouting:
Hoarse Tongue:
"Goat's Rut ! Am I so frigthening to her ? Haaa, "puny humans", we sometimes are, indeed !" For those who speak Elven: Gryfford speaks in Orcish here, with the fluency of a native.
Gryfford takes a few steps back. He spreads his arms wide and holds out his empty hands to show he means no harm.
Without waiting for her answer, he offers his hand to help her stand up.
Gryfford puts his falchion back into its sheath. "I am called Gryfford" he says to the young woman with a reassuring smile. "What is your name ?"
"If you're right, Alexia, it should spring right now" Gryfford says, alert and ready but not tense.
Gryfford walks into the room, his falchion still drawn, his eyes searching for clues as to what happened to the young woman.
Gryfford's falchion seems to leap into his hands of its own accord, and in a blur of practiced warrior's motion he launches himself at the door, all the momentum and speed of his movement being transferred from his pivoting haunches to his arms and then to his blade - which strikes squarely and with great strength right at the middle of the wooden door.
Sunder manoeuver: "If your target is immobilized, unconscious, or otherwise incapacitated, your maneuver automatically succeeds (treat as if you rolled a natural 20 on the attack roll)."
"Not as such, Arasmes, but... I have been testing some... unorthodox combat moves lately, during my morning routine." Seemingly by its own volition, Gryfford's right hand softly plays along the edge of his falchion's scabbard. The tenderness of the gesture is a little disconcerting for those unused to seeing it. "If our friend behind the door remains deaf to our gentle paladin's entreaties, I've got a good mind to sunder the problem."
You mean, like a swarm °_0 !
Gryfford nods to Alexia, before motioning the group to back a little off the door, and out of the hallway so as to let Elorin try his peaceful alternative. He absent-mindedly makes some stretching movements, though, obviously prepared to nock the door open.
The one hundred crouched on the other side of the door ! Excellent: that really made me laugh, DM Awesome :-) !
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