"Since we ain't got no sick'uns now, I'm fer the murderholes." looking to Madman to see what his tack is...
"I'm inclined to agree, mate. Though arrows likely won't do much to such as these, if they're at all like Boniopo was at the last. Unless they're flaming...let's get a fire pot up in the armory, so we have something to light our torches from, any oil about, rags.... Janore, I'm thinking I'll need something more than a rapier to succeed 'gainst these. Would there chance to be a longsword, scimitar, or cutlass to hand?"
" Janore, I'm thinking I'll need something more than a rapier to succeed 'gainst these. Would there chance to be a longsword, scimitar, or cutlass to hand?"
"What about the bent knife at your side? I don't think we have any weapons, but we can check the storage upstairs. There might be an axe or something. I think there's a bit of oil as well."
A search of the supply room turns up rope, a bottomless bucket, 10 lbs of nails, a couple small hammers, a bent crow bar, a couple gallons of oil, clay pots for planting, a rusty handsaw, and a battered battle axe that's been used for cutting wood. There's also a fair bit of old canvas, netting, and scrap wood.
Hmph. I'll stick with the kukri. "Best we take everything up with us. Who knows what we'll need? At least we can nail doors shut behind us, and pry them back open if need be."
Kaul claps Jimmer on the shoulder, with a mugged grin;
"Hur... Ye can use one o' my ladies Jimmer..."
The thug takes out a little flask and taps it;
"Where ye wantin' me lads? Got some Ogre's blood elixer 'ere... make me strong like bull hur-hur-hur..."
Looking over Jimmer's haul "The wood an canvas fer fuel and oil tae make it interestin. Then theres the alchy fire, still got a coupla flasks left from the bugger mayor."
"Janore, how many came out of the sea last night?" Jim leans down by Dibbets. "I want to be sure we don't use everything up 'fore we run out of deaders, hey?"
the Groom turns up in the old armory. "We can fill those pots with oil too. Drop 'em through the murder holes. I like holing up on the upper floor. Maybe board up the back and leave the front easier to come through, right into out field of fire. Might bring some rocks up too. Use the net if any of the daders get spry and starts climbing up to get us."
He turns to Dibbets holding out the broken mace from the Prior's room. "Any chance you can fix this? Would be a spot better at bashing in heads than my rapier."
"Janore, how many came out of the sea last night?" Jim leans down by Dibbets. "I want to be sure we don't use everything up 'fore we run out of deaders, hey?"
Janore has made her way down to the library to pay her respects to Baniopo and Morley. She stands, head bowed and golden eyes moistened. "I'm the last one now," she sighs. "I didn't expect them to live long, but this is a rather gruesome way to go." In response to Jim she shakes her head, "They would have had a better idea. I hit the hidden cellar at the first sign of attack. It sounded like a dozen, maybe two. We'll know soon enough."
Dibbs takes a look at the broken mace and squints his eyes in examination. "Aye, I can give it a shot" taking a seat to the side and calling upon his indifferent master to mend it.
Dibbets is able to restore the masterwork light mace with a little work.
"So how do you gentlemen prefer I serve during the coming combat". Do you wish me to use my magical attacks early, then revert to other tactics when they are expended, or wait till things become iffy, and bring them to fore then"?
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Richard stretches, and moves around getting ready for the upcoming combat. He seems to strike several contorted poses...holding them then releasing and flowing into another striking pose.
"I reckon keep yer vipers till we're gettin dicey. Ye've pulled us from the fire more'n once with em an I'd feel the safer iffin we got em in reserve. Theres another crossbow in the armory iffin ye need it?"
"That fire blast you used on the rats seems like quite the thing for dealing with large groups of the walking dead. Better that than the vipers, I think. Have you any other magic that's good against undead?"
Seeing his tactical nuance seemingly ignored, a bored Kaul pops out his nut and has a chat;
"Hur... so Tum ye wanna help yer loyal subject...??? I'll be keeping ye safe from them deaders but might need some 'sistance like..."
Half-Hitch tells Kaul to quit squeezing his nut and get to work helping to restore the front barricade and also board up the kitchen and dormitory doors. The wood isn't particularly good quality, but it might slow them down a few moments. By the time these preparations are finished, the sun rests heavily on the western horizon.
All this time Janore has been keeping watch from the guard tower. Now she rushes back to call over the balcony as darkness falls. "I saw something in the surf! Just as the last rays slanted across the dark water, I thought I saw a man standing in the spray. It was there just a moment and then it was gone. They are COMING!"
Dibbets gives Half-Hitch's preparations a grudging nod and offers him a spot above near to himself.
Kaul helps Half Inch to rebuild the barricade, before whispering to the short ass as the head topside;
"Hur. Watch yer back Finn's slip... Lot can happen in a scrap hur-hur-hur... an afore the nights through me and my ladies gonna see you again Half Inch..."
"Ideally, not many will get to us--fire, arrow, and spell will take their toll. When they do, Kaul, Groom, and I will take front. Half-Hitch, gut where you can. Dibbets, keep us going."
And an aside to Kaul, "Here, don't treat the little fellow too harshly, mate. He's our ticket back into Finn's good graces, if we can get him back in one piece. And I, for one, don't relish the thought of trying to survive in Freeport on Finn's bad side, hey?"
the Groom measures out 20 pint jars of oil and everyone gathers in the armory peering down murder holes and out arrow slits waiting for the inevitable assault.
Before settling in, Dibbets finds a fresh enough curtain - tearing some strips and laying them down by a pint or two of oil.
Perception:
Dibbets remains oblivious.
Kaul clearly is getting edgy... Tum safely stowed upon his personage and shoots the odd hungry look at Half-Inch with a grin;
:
Thick sea mist rolls in from the shore quickly wrapping the base of the fortress in a damp and hazy skirt. You think perhaps you see some movement in the thick fog, but aren't sure until several muted thumps are heard below you and then a screeching crash as the barricaded front door is smashed in!
Keelhaul Kaul-
Madman Jim-
The Groom-
Dingus-
Something in the fog
At the sound of the thumps Dibbets eyes turn to the portal... Company's comin.
"Down with the oil." the Groom sends a pot down through a murder hole.
"Down with the oil."
the Groom drops a lit pint of oil down the hatch, but it fails to catch as it bounces off the piled up furniture below.
Taking Grooms lead, Kaul does likewise, dropping a lit pot down among the deadmen;
"Hur-hur. Fire in the hold!"
:
Kaul drops another dud and the fog begins to pour into the entry way. Dingus has been waiting for the right moment and unleashes a fan of flames to ignite the spilled oil and wood.
Steam rolls back up through the murderholes with a loud hiss as the flames gutter below.
Round 1:
Seeing the flames start below, Dibbets holds off adding fuel - instead hefting his crossbow and eyes scanning the fog and smoke for a hard target...
Once the heat of the steam blast subsides, your nose is assaulted by an odor somewhat akin to week old boiled cabbage. Peering through the murderholes, you see three dark shapes picking their way over the wood piles by the hazy light of the flickering oil. Dibbets takes a shot, but his bolt thunks into scrap wood.
Round 1:
Jim looses an arrow at one of the shapes, striking home despite the dim light.
As near as Jim can tell the arrow tears right through the bloated flesh to no effect.
the Groom sends another pot of oil down into the entrance.
Glowering around looking for Half Inch, Kaul absent mindedly lifts and drops another pot o' hot;
:
Half-Hitch joins the oil flinging with abandon. Two more pots break and start burning smokily adding more stink and haze to the air upstairs. There is a racket below as the shadowy figures push broken furniture and old lumber aside and move into the building. Three more figures follow them.
Half-Hitch squints through the haze, "I don't think the fire did much to them. Probably too soggy to burn. What the hells do we do now?" Janore squeezes into a corner fear gleaming in her eyes.
Round 2:
Dibbets shimmies over to Kaul and gives him a slap on the back. The burly half-orc gets a shine to his skin like he's been soaked from the spray from a cutter's bow and feels the heady glow that comes from the first couple of brews after arriving in from months ashore. Turning to Half-Hitch Dibbets adds "Now its fer guttin time"
Dingus gives a short gesture and a golden beam strikes one of the shambling figures below eliciting a gargling groan. Half-Hitch gives Dibbs a shaky smile and moves toward the door, "Just give the word and it's to the balcony. Fire and arrows aren't doing much, but maybe we can get 'em on the climb."
Jim moves out onto the balcony , awaiting the climbers, kukri in hand.
Round 3
Tingling from Dibb's 'chantments, Kaul glugs down his potion of Bull's Strength - savouring the thick, beefy flavour.
Dingus gives a short gesture and a golden beam strikes one of the shambling figures below eliciting a gargling groan. Half-Hitch gives Dibbs a shaky smile and moves toward the door, "Just give the word and it's to the balcony. Fire and arrows aren't doing much, but maybe we can get 'em on the climb."
Dingus moves to get a view of some of the creatures without placing himself in danger.