|
|||||||||||||||||||||||
|
 Recent Posts
"Holy s!%%! You killed Turpik! You sons of b$@~~es!"
Initiative roll (1d20+3=19)
Pavel speaks quietly to Branomonrik and Kelindra, assuming they're near. "I'm sure they're plenty scared, but we can't be too sure they won't lead us into an ambush or just scamper off and stab us in the back later. Do you have any of those light spells? Maybe when Gal brings the weapons back, you could make 'em glow so we can keep track of 'em simple like, yeah?"
Surprised and a bit saddened, Pavel lowers his blade.
"Well, tell us a few things and we'll leave you alone, all right? Just how many of you are down here and what are you doing?"
"Well, point the way, either of you. The way I see it, we can stick to the same plan: me, Soll and Gin up front, sneaking. Then comes our capable priestess, wildman, necromancer and treasure finder, of course. And let's try to save the fight for the titanspawn, yeah?" Just in case we're moving along:
"Eh, depends what you mean by "treasures". We have a decorative stick, a note, three jars and a lot of tiny weapons and armor."
Pavel grimaces. "Just joking around there, but never mind. I'd be, ah, cautious about any "studies" you conduct here in Mithril. Rats are one thing, a zombie kobold might be something else entirely in the eyes of the... well, everyone. I don't know what kind of penalty necromancy takes around here, but it's probably similar to pick pocketing in Hollowfaust." "Minus the being reanimated part.", he adds. Once Kelindra and Gin get back with the rest of the group, Pavel draws his sword again. "Are we ready to go?"
"Well. Don't that beat all. Good thing we're here to stop it, then. Say, I just wanted to ask... how long have you been keeping a dead rat in your pocket? Did you bring that with you all the way from out West?"
"Thanks, but I got lucky; not a scratch." He taps a finger to his crooked, oft-broken nose. "Or at least, no new ones. I found some tracks we might should follow, if you're up for it once the prisoners are square. You think you and Gin need someone to watch your back or should I stay here and keep an eye?"
"Might be a good idea to look for the little scaly ones what ran off, too. And just how did they get those... snake things into those poor people?" Pavel will look into the dark corners for signs of the kobolds that fled and look for any tracks.
Pavel turns to Soll, with a rueful smile. "That does seem to be the question, right?" "I've been through Mullis Town. It's a rough town but right enough as I would measure it. Some mining, some trade. Half-orcs are full citizens, so it's a popular place for 'em. Perfect spot on the Corridor to make a tidy profit and I don't doubt for a second that Mithril's fate is tied in with Mullis Town." After letting that sit for a second, the big ranger continues. "I don't rightly know much on these Ancients or what they were up to. But I do know that Mullis Town wasn't founded until recently, post Divine War, right? So whoever or whatever that was, it's got at least some current info'. What do you say we keep looking through the catacombs before heading out with this little, uh, clue? We should know how far this kobold problem goes and what the hell those... things were."
After quickly side-stepping the spurt of white liquid, Pavel strikes the creature with a blow from his heavy blade. 2 handed bastard sword, 1 point power attack plus bless (1d20+4=19, 1d10+7=8)
Pavel continues making wild but powerful swings at the crazy monsters.
Attacking one that's already wounded, preferably.
"Hold on, I think this is working..." Hearing the horrific sound from the captive, Pavel turns to see the gruesome transformation. "Titan's spit! What the hell is that?!" I'm dropping the torch, pulling out my bastard sword with a two-handed grip for greater power... and taking a wild swing while Pavel tries to figure out what these things could be. Initiative roll (1d20+3=7)
"All right, first thing's first: Mr. Gin, Mr. Soll, you seem to be skilled sorts, will you do me a favor and look out for them titanspawn, maybe do a little scouting with the necromancer's mummy rat? Probably best to be the ones surprisin' not the ones surprised. Or even just check their pockets, see if there's anything unusual. Mr. Cadwaller, you said you have a knack for old stuff, what do you think about that pillar? Maybe you got a second opinion?" He ditches his blood-soaked cloak and blanket, heads toward the prisoners. He lets Gal's outburst go unanswered. To the captive,"Hold on, friend, we're here to help. What does it feel like? Did it just start? Just try to hang in there, Ms. Snow will likely know what to do for you." To Gal, whispered
Spoiler:
"I know you ain't used to working with other folks and all and you ain't from around here. But down here, with all this... arcane foulness, we have to watch each other's backs. . Whether you like it or not, Branomonrik is not a threat right now. That don't mean you have to like him, that don't mean you have to talk to him; but we do need to work together here... or at least avoid tearing each other's throats out. I would like you to do me a personal favor: just keep an eye on him, all right? Until we know what we're really up against."
"Aye. Now isn't the time for accusations. I'm wagering if this thing has lasted as long as it has, pulling it down won't be too easy. We get the captives out, chase the kobolds off and be sure to mention it to them guards out there. Somehow I think this is more of a job for a team of priests and scholars than the lot of us." "From now on, let's save the hostility for a situation when we aren't going to be shanked by kobolds at any moment, huh?"
Pavel's eyes trace the floor slowly. His eyebrows climb towards his scalp as he realizes what's going on... Ripping off his cloak and throwing it into the blood on the floor, he starts to go through his pack for a blanket. "Forget the kobolds; help me sop this up! I ain't keen to see what happens when that thing gets fed some more blood!"
"What d'you reckon these little blighters were about with all this? How are we faring? Anyone hurt badly?"
Pavel pursues the fleeing kobolds, keeping them away from the captives.
"Leave the column for now; cut the prisoners loose, we'll see what they know."
Attacks another kobold (hopefully one attacking somebody else), maneuvers a bit closer to the entrance.
Pavel shouts to his comrades over the fight. "Call me thick, but I don't think pillars are supposed to beat like that, eh? What'dya say we try pulling back a little, getting clear in case it...I dunno, explodes or turns us all into man-eating jackrabbits or gets us acquainted with the face in there?"
A slightly spooked Pavel bellows,"All right, that's enough o' that!" and goes for the nearest reptile with his bastard sword. Initiative (1d20+3=19)
I watch silently for a moment, trying to figure out what these creatures are and what they're up to before taking action.
Pavel whispers.
Trying to muffle my footsteps a little.
Pavel nods to the guards. As Gal runs to the front, the big ranger notes to himself, "Gallop or pause for this one, nothing in between." "Aye, you and me up front after our new friend there, assuming there's no objections to rear duty? All these passages, the rear could become the front in a moment's notice. I reckon Mr. Gawain and Ms., er, Sister? Kelindra are more than capable." "Any ideas on a direction or just see where Gal takes us?"
"Fancy, but I've got a light of my own." Pavel sparks one of his torches and pulls out his sword before following the druid and the necromancer. "'Penumbral Pentagon', eh? Sounds, er, dark. I'll wager figuring out just how many other entrances there are and where they are is a good idea; if just to know our way out in case something goes wrong. If you'll pardon me, Mr. Assia, I think it may be wise to let myself or another big lug ahead of you. Wouldn't suit you to come all this way from out west just to get chewed on by some beastie or Titanspawn, right?"
"I'm not one to spit on an offered hand of aid, but we ain't looking for treasure here. We're looking for a vicious killer or killers. You got the stomach for that? You looking for money, there's better ways to get it. You looking to make the docks and the city safer, then you'll be right for the job." Pavel turns to the guards. "Is this the only entrance or exit to the catacombs?"
To the black-clad guard.
He motions to Branomonrik "My ally here has the proof, if you need it." Hearing the half-orc, the big Veshian turns. "That one of your men or a...ah, concerned citizen?"
Looking at the raveing druid then to Pavel he says "AH one of those who do not understand a pity" he then looks to Pavel"Do not be ashamed of a skill, no matter what others think it may one day be useful and if nothing else my provide you with coin and a bed " "Oh, don't mistake me: I like taking care of horses. I just don't think it will be a, uh, life or death sort of skill while looking through Mithril's catacombs." He chuckles. "Unless this whole mess is due to some wild horses that got loose down there, eh?"
Pavel steps between Gal and Branomonrik holding out his large hands in the hopes of calming the wild druid. "Now, now, let's not get started on who smells like what. Maybe you smell like death, maybe I smell like a stable and maybe you smell like...a moose or a boar. The point is, some of us smell more than others and it doesn't make anyone less offensive by pointing fingers." The large man breaks into a wide grin and a friendly wink, hopefully diffusing the situation. "The name's Pavel. I'm a junior member of the Behjuran Vigil, here recently from Vesh. Just looking to help out. I'm pretty strong, pretty quick and real tough. Good with a sword and a bow, scouting duties, tracking, survival and maps. I know a little about setting bones and wrapping bandages." He clears his throat, a little embarrassed. "
After morning drills with the other junior vigilants and taking care of his other duties, Pavel tries in vain to neaten up and slips into the city, headed for the neighbourhood closest to the golem. In the wilds and on the road, Pavel can almost always tell where he's going and how to get there (or at the very least reason out a likely course) but the city seems to throw him. He very soon finds himself wandering aimlessly, not recognizing any landmarks besides the looming construct. "Ah, blood and ashes.", he curses, looking left and right. Coloring a bit, he remembers his present company. "Sorry, sorry", he mumbles to no one in particular,"forgot my manners." He looks about for a priest or a guard, someone that would know the area. "Excuse me? I'm looking to offer my help to the city; the recent call for adventurer types? Can you direct me toward the office in..in charge of that?"
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
