"Very well." Makvor takes a moment to search the cottage for anything else of use.
Then, realizing the obvious, he addresses the cauldron once more. "Taran, do you know of anywhere your mistress might have stored object of value to her? Any magical items, perhaps, or anything else that might aid us in our quest?"
Yes there is a fair amount of various components. Then you have her collection of trinkets and rare stones. I suppose she never summoner her familair, so the burning salts are still there. Oh and the Soulspeaker is around here somewhere. Look for a yellowish shrunken dwarven head amulet. It is quite powerful, but is rather grotesque. She use to hang it from the door to ward off intruders when she was sleeping.
"Taran, have you ever left this cottage? Or walked the forest?"
The gnome pauses for a second.
He then begins chittering while looking up.
After the chittering stops the gnome says, "Taran the Cauldron S. Not Your Bathing Pot! You are now part of our TEAM! We will have so much fun together! Mrachni and the half elf and Exatearg and Makvor and Franklin and Spirit and Zatqualmie and Taran and Zordlon and Oglon will have a great adventure!"
The gnome pauses and looks around, "Though, I think Zordlon may be waiting outside or something. I'm not sure where he went."
Mrachni, watching the clearing for threats, calls out: "Is all well? Have you found the rat's tail?"
you would not believe it Quaylon calls out to Mrachni, and we may have picked up another companion.
Mrachni comes to the door of the cottage to figure out what Quaylon is babbling about. Looking around, he frowns and speaks in a strange language: "Sehrli aşkar!"
After letting his gaze wander across the room, he looks back to Quaylon. "I see no one." he says.
Upon noticing Mrachni's entrance, the gnome excitedly points to the cauldron and says, "MRACHNI!! THIS IS OUR NEW FRIEND! TARAN THE CAULDRON S. NOT YOUR BATHING POT!"
With a confused look gnome says "He ... erm.. she erm ... Taran will be joining us on our adventures! H...Taran loves gnomes!"
Mrachni raises one eyebrow at the gnome. "I do not believe the cauldron would accommodate my size, even if I wished to bathe therein."
Quaylon whispers to Mrachni, DC 15
It seems the Cauldron is animated, I advised the gnome that it is not his bathing pot, the monk named it Taran, the gnome and it seem to have developed a fascination with one another and he again thinks the elf that got split in half is alive. I think that catches you up.
we should be on the move as soon as Makvor is ready, I have no desire to sleep here.
The caldron is pretty big. Enough to fit two medium creatures in. Mostly wide over tall. It would be a large creature.
Makvor steps out of the cottage and surveys the landscape to find the direction to the ruins, leaving the worries associated with bringing the cauldron along to the others.
Oglon will search the hut and clearing for another staff, long stick, or something to use in tandem with his quarter staff to create a makeshift litter.
Oglon finds...a quarterstaff.
Mrachni knows for certain that the caldron is to big to fit through the door. Though it might squeeze, causing damage to the structure.
Mrachni looks at the door, then back at the cauldron, and shakes his head at the others.
I say we let the gnome break the news Quaylon says to Mrachni, though that may come with a lot of damage to the house.
The gnome eagerly says, "So what are we waiting for?! Lets go NEW TEAM!"
Mr Fire-Top, have you given a clear look at the situation. How wide is that door? Quaylon states, gesturing to it.
The gnome begins scratching his head. He walks over to the door and attempts to remove it from the hinges, by force if necessary.
If he is able to remove the door, he places it on the ground and begins taking a series of confusing actions.
First, he lays next to the door and moves himself up and down the door as though measuring both its height and width based on his own height. He stands up and scratches his head further.
Next, he begins pacing next to the height and width of the door in a heel to toe fashion, as though measuring it with his feet. He stares at the door some more and scratches his head.
Now, he uses the distance between his thumb and forefinger to measure the height, width, and depth of the door. Again, he stands up and scratches his head while cocking it slightly to the side.
The gnome has a sudden looks as though he has had an epiphany. He reaches in to his pack, digs around slightly and pulls something out. The group sees him place an eye patch over one of his eyes and he repeats the entire routine again.
After repeating the previous routine with the eye patch on, he digs in to his pack once again and pulls out a piece of twine. As he does this he says, "Now I've got it!"
The gnome takes the 50ft of twine and unrolls it. He says, "This is 50 feet long!"
He then takes the twine and wraps it around his right forearm and repeats his previous system in its entirety. After he completes this pass he picks the door back up and carries it over to Quaylon and says, "I believe is seventeen buzltops by four hundred and fifty three mizlolips by twenty seven sazlopans."
After a brief pause he looks at Quaylon then the door and says, "Would you like to verify my calculations? If not, may we go now?"
During the course of this process the gnome seems to block everyone else out, only holding up a hand in the direction of anyone who seems as though they might be trying to interrupt him. If pressed further he only responds with, "Hang on, I think I've almost got this."
The caldron speaks up
Calculating...
after a few moments, and sounds that are very close to the sounds of boiling water emit from the basin
Yes, I beleive you are correct. If I understand the ideal correlation between mizolips and the encounter ratio of zergronflips. Would you suggest a florantor gram or the zero tolerance of terran cubes?
at those words a certain little critter tucked under a hat grabs two handfuls of hair and hangs on tight...
Mrachni looks at the cauldron for a moment, no emotions visible on his face. After a moment, he answers the gnome's question with a nod. "Let us go."
"Come Taran, we are on our way...", Oglon heads out the doorway.
Mrachni will wait for the others' agreement, then follow.
Indeed, let us go. Quaylon moves outside to join Makvor.
The gnome drops the door, sighs, and says, "Finally! Come on Taran!" as he walks out the door.
He removes his eye patch and twine to store them once he gets outside.
Mrachni will attempt to lead the way to the dwarven ruins.
The gnome patiently waits outside until Taran exits.
If the rest of the group tries to leave, he says, "WAIT! Taran isn't out here yet!"
There are no words to describe this Quaylon quietly says to himself. The townsfolk get sicker as we wait
At a dead run, which is like 40 feet for the thing, Taran smashes through the doorway. Now there is a very caldron/doorway looking hole in the wall.
It scoopes up the Gnome and begins trudging along. Some how, some way a lid is produced and it clamps down on the rim of the pot sealing the gnome in total darkness.
Quaylon, seeing as the house appears abandoned, would have gathered the gems and trinkets. for an untrained appraise.
"Wheeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" the gnome screams gleefully.
Oglon will walk happily by Taran, smiling for the first time that anyone here has seen.
The group is walking along to their next destination, when suddenly. A halfling girl burst from the undergrowth and sprints through their numbers.
Straight into Tarran. With a resounding BONG she impacts the unyeilding cast iron and is thrown backwards on her rump.
She looks around wild with panic, her head bleeding badly.