Feora moans softly, and looks up at Horatio. "I think I am ok. Sorry, its just..., there are times I seem to lose where I am at, especially when I get scared or angry. And when I come to, I smell burning."
"Alright. Let's get you back on your feet." With that, Horatio sets Feora down gently, offering her an arm if she needs extra stability. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you? When we get out of here, you'll have to tell me-" His head suddenly jerks to the north as his ears pick up the sound, frowning. "Well, folks, I don't mean to alarm you, but there's something there," he says quietly, inclining his head in the direction of the noise.
"I really have no idea when it comes to this machinery stuff...." Trig says, scratching her head. "If only it were a guardian animal, I could convince it to let us scratch its belly instead of fighting."
As the group fills the room, something steps out from the tunnel, shuffling slightly, sniffing the air until it's eyes fall on the group, hunger filling them as it then charges the group.
It looks as if it's skin is rotted, body filled with disease, though it's not clear if the man is alive...or not.
The creature charges Olivius, leading head first, the creature attempts to bite the fighter.
But finds it's teeth clasping the shield of the warrior, only to stagger back slightly with hunger-filled eyes.
Heroes up!
Feora looks up, gasping at the sight of the feral little creature. Her mind hinges on the edge of recalling what it looks like, but for some reason she loses her thought in the process of trying to keep herself upright.
"Eaaayagh!" Fligg exclaims, tumbling back away from the ghoul towards Trig.
"I choose you, Mrs. Feathers!" Trig exclaims, swiping her hands through the air. Another eagle, this one a little different looking, swoops through a golden portal behind the ghoul's head. It immediately shrieks and begins to tear at the undead's scalp.
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The eagle's talon catches the creature slightly and rends it's flesh, releasing a fetid smell.
Olivius easily weathers the blow to his shied and responds with the fluidity that comes from hard training. He stabs forward from under his shield at the beast's exposed throat.
Horatio reacts with a surprised yell, not recognizing the creature from anything he's ever seen or heard. "Well, Olives, maybe this will help you out!" he calls, violin already in place, the first notes of a rousing allegro filling the room.
The creature is not distracted by the bird, it is only a morsel, the real meal is before him and he attempts to take it with force!
It seems that the claws are capable of swatting aside Olivius's shield which opens him up for the bite that follows.
Olivius takes a good bit of damage from the bite 6 yikes! but is able to shake off the melange of toxins that roll through him.
Round 2 Heroes go!
Trig pulls out her sling and loads it. The eagle attacks the ghoul again.
Fligg does nothing.
Stupid ghoul is stupid. Poor thing had no chance with an eagle rending it's flesh from behind, the talons nearly ripping the things head off. When it slumps, it is clear that there are wounds on it's body that are both recent and not caused by the eagle.
Feora comes stumbling up, still a little unsure on her feet to check Olivius's wounds. "That thing bit you good, are you alright?" She starts to clean and dress it, applying some salve and minor ointments to try and draw out anything that might have been latent in the creatures maw.
Olivia's grunt and does his best to deal with the pain. That undead thing had nearly bitten him in half. The treatment helps, and soon he's up and twisting his body to test his range of motion.
Feora looks over at him with concern. "Are you alright? I think..., I'm starting to feel my connection slip..., but I may be able to muster up enough to heal once more. If you need it?"
Olivius shakes his head. I'll just be careful. Best use resources when they are most needed. I'll be fine for now.
She nods. "Ok. Don't get yourself hurt now..., I can only patch you up so much."
Olivius chuckles, A bit too late for the hurt part, but point taken. Now. Lets see about this room.
Horatio watches a moment as Feora patches up Olivius, then turns away to hide his face. Don't read into it, he tells himself. None of this means anything. He crouches by the previously-undead body, looking it over curiously. "Looks like somebody else got to this before we did," he points out.
What kind of hit does it look like? Blade, arrow, magic? Olivius asks as he runs through a couple basic, high variance forms to test the bandaging under high mobility levels. It holds well and flexes with his sides as he feigns attacks, blocks, and counters.
Feels good, Fiora, thanks. I've met many less skilled medics.
Horatio raises an eyebrow at Olivius. "Look at who you're asking, Olives. How about you stop schmoozing and tell me what they look like?" Ouch, too snappy. I think you're losing your touch.
Olivius ends his form with his shield over his head, protecting his back, and his spear forward toward Horatio's throat. Schmoozing? Who's schmoozing? I'm making sure I don't force the wound open in combat and bleed out.
He relxes and strides over, his eyes examine Horatio. We're all reaching out limit, in one way or another.
Horatio pushes the spear-point aside agitatedly. "Have a little faith, Olives. If you start bleeding out, I can patch you up, though I'm sure you'd prefer someone else did." The final coda of his allegro finally fades away as he stands, heading back to the slots in the floor, rubbing the smallest finger on his right hand.
Feora walks over slowly, examining the ghoul looking at the wounds, trying to determine how it came to be what it is now. "Boys boys, what are we fighting about? Look, I have plenty of bandages to go around. I'm just reaching my limit for the day. Never was much for crawling around adventures like some of the acolytes seemed to enjoy."
Olivius looks a little confused. Who's fighting?
Noticing the confused tone in Olivius' voice, Horatio bites his tongue. "Nobody's fighting. I'm just not one for dungeons, either. I prefer my adventures to take place behind closed doors, between two or more consenting adults." He runs a hand over the slots in the floor, feeling thoroughly useless.
Alright then. Adventure over. We are officially getting out of here, confronting the mayor or whoever's in charge up there, and getting an explanation why there are devils, automatons, and undead under the little town of Haldrin. The bad news is, I expect the best way out is forward.
Feora pipes up, looking at the both of them in a rather annoyed fashion. "Do you two realize how difficult it is to work when both of you are squabbling like a pair of untested acolytes trying to pull down each other's skirts in the middle of the temple garden?"
Yes. Olivius goes back to examining his corpse. What is going on here? Stress probably. And my ribs. UHHH... That hurts.
"Now, why would you try to pull someone else's skirt down? Pulling it up would surely be more embarrassing," Horatio muses. The verbal slap seems to have knocked a little sense back into him - as much sense as he's ever had, anyway. "Sounds like I need to start going to more temples."
"Uhh, I think that thing bit you harder than you though Olives. You don't even know where we are! This town is called Belhaim. It's gonna be okay though, honey. You can remember your name right? Say it with me, O-L-I-V-E-S, Olives," Trig says, half joking half worried that there's actually something wrong with Olivius.
It's Olivius, actually. Olivius Telraven. Nice to meet you, Trig. Olivius says with a slight smile. Well, the truth had to come out some time.
"Oh my, it's worse than I thought," Trig says to Horatio. "He can't even say his own name!" she whispers, hiding her mouth behind her hand. Then she turns back to Olives. "Yes, yes, nice to meet you too. You remember not to poop in your armor right? Because if you do that, I'm not helping you."
Horatio smiles faintly at Trig's antics. "Never a dull moment with you around, is there? Don't worry, he's fine. Thankfully, he's much smarter than he looks."
Olivius smiles, impressed that Horatio has managed to compliment him without sounding too snide.
Then his eye calls on the bar and a thought hits him.
you know, I bet I could snap these bars out of their welds with enough torque. Something isn't sitting right about the "key holes" either, but nevermind them. Does anyone see a strong bar I could use as a lever?
"Torque? I'm impressed you know that word." Horatio winks, but looks around anyway. "Might be worth picking up a crowbar when we get back to town. You can carry it, of course."
Of course I'd carry it. If you carried it you'd probably leave it in bed somewhere.
And just like that, everything was back to normal.
Feora stops examining the ghoul for a moment as she looks over at the three of them talking, and gives them the strangest look. "So let me get this straight..., you three have me examining a dead..., not so dead thing to see why it got that way, and you three are trying to figure out who left who's crowbar in what bed? Sarenrae save me now..."
She shakes her head and goes back to work.
"Someone's bed. The specifics aren't important." Horatio smiles as he stands, brushing dust from his knees. "What did our friend die of?"
Olivius snaps his fingers as a Eureka moment hits him. The Atomaton! It has lots of bars and junk! I'll be right back. Stay here.
He jogs back to the metal man and attempts to remove a strong, long rod from its internal skeleton.
Olivius quickly is able to pull apart pieces from the broken creature. He finds a nice piece that is three foot long and another that is two without any issues.