He hops up on stage, and draws his sword.
"Non, non....my blade,.....not meant for you, friend,...."
he shows you;
"do it thusly,.... like......SO!!!"
he thwacks off a leg, all the way through.
It's totally badass, whatever he did......
"now you try. other leg. Use your back, and your butt, and not your arms!!!"
"Aha! So, cutting weapons for zombies. Good to know. Or, I suppose, fire - as dear Myron has proposed."
To Castiel, "My lady will sometimes grant me knowledge, but I have to touch the subject. Inconvenient in most fights, so I thought to take the opportunity afforded here by these restraints. Clearly our experts here already had such knowledge!"
Alinya:
[spoiler]the ring is definitely a signet ring, used by nobility to stamp "official seals" on documents.[/ooc]
Castiel nods, stroking his chin and looking at the stranger thoughtfully. Being an undead slayer by profession he, of course, already knew that the best way to deal with zombies is to chop them up with swords or axes, small enough that they can no longer attack ... but it is a useful lesson for his companions to learn.
heh heh....
Nope. It's too dark to get details.
He looks sorta familiar, maybe.
"Ah, of course. A cutting weapon for dismembering the animated corpse-flesh. Whereas a mace or similar blunt instrument is particularly effective for breaking up the skeletal variants." Edwin says, stroking a non-existent goatee.
"I say, that is an interesting style of bladework there. Far superior in use to the standard Hack -N- Slash of the infantry. And you display a superior level of knowledge of these particular creatures. I do apologize for our initial misunderstanding. Allow me to provide proper introductions, I am Edwin Drood, this lovely lady is Alinya, and you've met Rholf, Castiel and our pyrotechnics expert, Myron." He adds with a nod in the direction of each.
"The large gentleman in the cloak is Wod. I'm sure that his axe will also be useful against any other animated corpses that we run into as well. And you are,...?" He asks politely, with a smile.
"I am......Vulkya. Vulkya,......Lorres,....." he says, now somewhat hesitantly.
Lorres was the surname of the last Count of Canterwall, though it had a different name in the time of Eigen Lorres.
"And what leads you to these parts, my lord Lorres? We ourselves are visiting the family of Professor Lorrimer, and have been caught up in these spectral events tonight. Would you and your retainers care to accompany us on our patrol of the village surrounds?"
After Edwin's introductions, Larissa turns toward him, hands on her hips. "Ahem. And?"
"And what leads you to these parts, my lord Lorres? We ourselves are visiting the family of Professor Lorrimer, and have been caught up in these spectral events tonight. Would you and your retainers care to accompany us on our patrol of the village surrounds?"
"Yeah; you....you don't need to patrol. There's no more screaming."
One of the lushes laughs nervously.
He snickers at Larissa's bawdy show.
Rholf, in an attempt to take the "lesson" positively, heeds the advice of the swordsman, swinging his scimitar with the grim determination of one intent on ending things quickly.
He chops smartly through the thing's other femur.
"Yes. Now, a moving target,.....that's a different thing altogether, but practice makes perfect...."
After Edwin's introductions, Larissa turns toward him, hands on her hips. "Ahem. And?"
Edwin winces dramatically at his mistake.
"I beg your pardon. And the ineffable Lady Brightfoot. I didn't miss anyone else, did I?" He jests with a straight face, looking about as if making sure while Rholf takes a last practice swing on the creature in the stocks.
"No more screaming. To be sure. But I think that I would certainly sleep better if we were make certain before calling it a night. Again."
Edwin smiles. "So, What brings you out to Ravengro, Lord Lorres?" He asks, taking note of the quality, and particular style and pattern, of the lord's clothing.
"I heard of the Professor's demise. Thought I would come, and pay my respects. It seems, I find that....that much is amiss hereabouts."
"I heard of the Professor's demise. Thought I would come, and pay my respects. It seems, I find that....that much is amiss hereabouts."
“I am not a citizen of the Principality, so perhaps it is not my place to comment,” says Castiel, preparing to comment, “but it seems to me that that is the problem with a county governed by a civilian council ... no decisiveness of action when it comes to dealing with a threat, actual or potential. Here we are what? Fifty miles from the Belkzen border? This town should be crawling with troops! And yet there is only a sheriff and a dozen deputies who, while I’m sure are adept at dealing with local drunks and isolated banditry, would be ill equipped to repel a concentrated orc raid, let alone a plague of undead. Odd, in a county wedged between a nation of orcs and the unreasy resting ground of an undead tyrant ... but I suppose that is what you get when the place is governed by merchants and farmers.”
"Well,....there's a line of fortresses buttressing the west of all of Ustalav.....and orcs are rarely able tacticians. This place even exists for those two reasons alone really.
I....I think they can do a good job though,.....they seem to be on top of things."
his delivery is dry, anyway.
Castiel nods. Word in Vigil has it that the ‘line of fortresses’ along the Canterwall / Belkzen border are mostly jumbled ruins, and that the defence of the border is left to shifty mercenaries and peasants with sharpened sticks ... but he is wise enough to know that such rumours are probably exaggerated, and chooses not to comment further on something he does not know the truth off.
Where to?.....
huh....
I guess we’ll continue our circuit of the town then head back to the manor.
You pass a mansion on the right; the deputy says "That is the Unfurling Scroll." Then, there's a few farmhouses, and a bridge across the river; you pass a few more houses, then the road goes north to the graveyard and Harrowstone beyond, and south past the mansions of the town council, then the Church of Pharasma......beyond that is a stretch of farmhouses, and completion of the circuit.
You're in front of the Church; no undead as of yet.....any questions at this point?....
“What is the Unfurling Scroll?” asks Castiel of the deputy.
"Well,....there's a line of fortresses buttressing the west of all of Ustalav.....and orcs are rarely able tacticians. This place even exists for those two reasons alone really.
I....I think they can do a good job though,.....they seem to be on top of things."
his delivery is dry, anyway.
"Indeed." Replies Edwin straight-faced, and just as dryly.
"I do not believe that I noticed this building earlier. What, indeed, is 'The Unfurling Scroll'?" Edwin echoes on the heels of Castiel's question.
"That's Alendru's mansion.....he's rumored to be a niekrowmauncer.....I don't think so, though. He's an old wizard-come-teacher.
Sells a few magical things. Teaches magic, and math.
He's got a decent library."
Edwin's eyebrow rises on it's own accord.
"Indeed? I shall have to make time to meet this Alendru whilst I am here."
"Yeah; he's probably asleep now.....who knows? He's always up early though.....has a rooster for a familiar, he does."
"A library? Excellent!' Alinya unconsciously copies Edwin's tone and eyebrow-gesture almost exactly. "He may also have interesting supplies for sale - I have pen and paper, but they do not suffice to create scrolls usable in combat."
Alinya stifles a yawn. "Now, is it time for us to get back to the manor? The town seems secure enough."
"A library? Excellent!' Alinya unconsciously copies Edwin's tone and eyebrow-gesture almost exactly. "He may also have interesting supplies for sale - I have pen and paper, but they do not suffice to create scrolls usable in combat."
Alinya stifles a yawn. "Now, is it time for us to get back to the manor? The town seems secure enough."
;P
Edwin manages to stifle his own yawn, although it is a close call.
"Yes, It would appear that the immediate danger is past. But prudence dictated that we should check to be certain. However, I now find myself in agreement that my pillow is calling louder than any undead I have heard." He says with a straight face.
"Keep your boots close by. We might need to run out quickly again." Myron looks up at the overcast night sky. "Too wet to sleep on the roof, though. I want some creature comforts now that I have rejoined the civilised world."
"A library? Excellent!' Alinya unconsciously copies Edwin's tone and eyebrow-gesture almost exactly. "He may also have interesting supplies for sale - I have pen and paper, but they do not suffice to create scrolls usable in combat."
Alinya stifles a yawn. "Now, is it time for us to get back to the manor? The town seems secure enough."
Deputy says the general store or the blacksmith oughtta have what you need.
Unless it's magic other than a potion or scroll,.....anything you can buy you can find. Anything else takes a long time in pbp.
Yeah; he can go do that I reckon.
for future reference;Searching the four warriors.....
4 suits of plate armor
4 masterwork great swords
Giraroj
+1 ring of protection
wand of magic missile...1st level.....25 charges
you find some cool stuff in the alter......
12 silver arrows
4 sun rods
6 flasks of holy water
10 +1 arrows
5 potions of cure light wounds
five +1 ghost touch arrows
two +1 undead bane arrows
two potions of lesser restoration
a scroll of detect undead
two scrolls of hide from undead
1 scroll of protection from evil
and a thin darkwood case, decorated with an image of a scarab with a single eye glaring from its back, the same thing as was on the Manual of the Palatine Eye.
The case itsself is worth 50 g.p.The case is closed; doesn't appear to be locked......
Here was the loot list from the last bruja ha; don't know who took what; and you can sell whatever except for the armor. Grimstone said it's okay for you guys to use, but not to sell.
The night yields a brief respite from the longest day of anyone assembled's lives.
And the dawn comes; the sun trying to peek out from behind the overcast clouds feebly.....the chilling mist refusing to burn off at its urging.
Your hostess, though, at least has danishes (or whatever country they named them after, because Denmark is on earth) with boysenberry jelly, and you smell rich, dark Mwangi coffee steaming. Coffee dark as a necromancer's shriveled heart.
But tasty.
Wod is happy (or not) to hear that she'll allow him to bunk in the house now.....
"I heard how you saved that boy, Wod. I'm proud of you, for overcoming your natures."
and......who's doing what?
Cas is going to get a bit of shut eye, then modify the straps on one of the suits of plate mail to fit him, then re-convene with the others. He has enough money to afford a short bow and may go and buy one.
Right on.
Larissa's a teenager. She's going to sleep until someone wakes her up. Or noon, whichever comes first.
Rholf sleeps until dawn, then rises for prayer and meditation. After breakfast, and some of that glorious coffee, he wakes Larissa with several loud raps at her door, and a very poorly sung tune for her alarm clock. Once he hears her stirring, or clamoring as the horrible performance may elicit, he grins from ear to ear and heads for the library.
*groan* Larissa gets herself together and stumbles to the library where she finds a chair and owlishly watches the more motivated (and awake) individuals. *yawn*
Edwin arises reasonably early, looking fairly well refreshed, or at east energized, as he heads downstairs throwing on his jacket. He nibbles at a pastry, commenting politely to their hostess on how good they are, but partakes liberally of the coffee. He sits in the library, flipping through some of the books from yesterday, checking to see if anything new catches his eye.
"Ooooh, coffee. Good coffee, even!" Myron quickly downs a mug, then helps himself to another one. "One thing that zombie-hunting twerp did demonstrate yesterday is that I am poorly armed; my poor spear is badly suited to dealing with the shuffling, restless dead. I'm headed off to the blacksmith for something with a cutting edge to it. After that, I'd suggest we map out which graves erupted - there might be a pattern to this madness."
"Ooooh, coffee. Good coffee, even!" Myron quickly downs a mug, then helps himself to another one. "One thing that zombie-hunting twerp did demonstrate yesterday is that I am poorly armed; my poor spear is badly suited to dealing with the shuffling, restless dead. I'm headed off to the blacksmith for something with a cutting edge to it. After that, I'd suggest we map out which graves erupted - there might be a pattern to this madness."
The daughter comes in;
"I don't cook much, but I picked you all up a little something. Least I could do."
Larissa stands, stretches and moves to give the woman a hug. "Thank you for breakfast. I hope you slept well last night - it was far to exciting for the middle of the night, really. Have you heard?"
She moves to get some coffee and pours a cup, but spends considerable time smelling it and blowing on it before she puts it to her lips. Just the smell of the brew invigorates her somewhat and she starts to drift around the library to see what people are working on. "Can I help?"