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Hegh and Oadir fly low and fast. When he sees kobolds below, Hegh will shout in draconic, Tanard is arisen. Freedom is near. When he sees groups of humans he will blast ice at them and twist slightly to give Oadir an opportunity to rain down destruction.
Scrubbing her face with her free claw, Sees cast about. "I think I saw the other beasts headed back toward our camp. We should head back quickly." There was something shining in the bloody mass of the gator's corpse. Taking a swath of torn sleeve, Sees picks it up, careful not to touch it or the hunks of flesh stuck to it. While she squinted through the darkness at the object, she began heading back toward the camp, mushrooms knotted into her skirt.
As Thunk moves in to get a closer look, Greas studies the warehouses from a distance. The black thief kobold asks his question of the shaman, then peers at the surrounding rooftops nearest to the warehouses, considering the different angles of approach. There! Confirmation at last! There's a small streak of distinctive Deathclaw blood on a rooftop close by to you. Following its owner's likely trajectory, you whisper to Thunk that the creature most probably approached the warehouses around the right hand side from where he is.
The barbarian, meanwhile, had been peering at his club intently for signs of glowing, but the blue color is almost nonexistent. There are humans in the far vicinity, but not the near vicinity to the warehouses. You haven't quite figured out yet the effective range for your club's man-detecting spell - further experimentation is required.
Since he feels confident in his lack of humans, Thunk acknowledges Greas with a quick nod over his shoulder and runs to where he's directed. He peers around at the different warehouses around the corner as the other three start to catch up with him, when a drop of blood lands on his head. Looking up, Thunk sees an open window with a black streak of blood just below its awning. The window awning is approximately 30 feet above you.
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Hegh and Oadir make for a terrifying sight as they fly low and fast just above the streets of Estr. His shouting carries for many blocks and attracts a ton of attention from guards near and far, though they're moving too quickly for them to catch up immediately. What stragglers catch up to you first are either frozen solid in ice or pierced with elemental shadow. The ruling races of Estr are thrown into renewed chaos, running and screaming in terror at the sight of a huge dragon-riding demon flying through their town.
By the time you near your destination, a few of the more enterprising guards have come up with a plan. As you fly between the last two buildings before the guardhouse leading down to the sewers, a weighted steel net is dropped down on you, taking you by surprise! What do you do?
From the nearby guard tower where the entrance of the sewers is comes two partially-hypnotized crocogators...
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Down in the sewers, Tallest-Silver looks on in obvious horror at the question the goblin posed her brother, but she doesn't speak up, only stares. Eats-Bugs is sweating through his scales, breathing so heavily he's nearly hyperventilating as he stares up at the necromancer and listens to his words.
The kobold's eyes fall upon Sees-Death for a brief moment, at Tanard perched on her shoulder with her tail loosely draped over her. His eyes refocus and he nods wordlessly at the crocogator arm. Ordinarily you'd just be able to do this no problem, but this is a highly unusual procedure. I'll need an Intellect roll from you, Retzack.
Sees-Death, it appears that the crocogator had eaten someone that had been wearing a ring recently. There's a sliver of mostly-digested fingerbone through a ring, bearing a tarnished but expertly cut sapphire. Your base camp is unchanged from before.
Thunk points up with his club to where the streak of blood is, then in a moment of Jackie Chan-Ness he bounds off the walls back and forth until he reaches the ledge
Once more to the thump my friend.!
defy danger dex
"...This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous." There's little Greas can do other than watch as Thunk leaps from wall to wall to the window above. The temptation to do something even more extravagant rises within him, but getting Krish up was more important than competition. He doubted any of his spirits granted flight, and if he didn't get up there, this was a pointless exercise.
Of course, there was still the matter of how to get up there. Thankfully, he still had some gear. Retrieving a grappling hook from his supplies, he makes the toss to hook it on the window.
With a quick tug to make sure it's secure, he begins climbing up, signalling to Krish and Kibra. "Come, quickly. The sooner we have this done, the better."
Hegh's claws close over the strands of the net and he focuses himself. The net begins melting and coins drop to the streets below. He flaps his wings furiously to attempt to gain altitude in time to avoid crashing.
Teleport us out of this net, Tiefling! Hegh let's a puff of ice out, hoping that additional frost in the air might help the Tiefling's magic.
Oadir lies flat to avoid catching any unwanted wind.
Last time I tried to take someone with me, I lost an eye! I can't lose the other one so no dice till I get this down to an art.
Oadir does attempt to get his new Wolverine claws to slash through the net though:
Krish watches, impressed, as Thunk makes nothing of the climb to the window. He considers the climb, then smiles as Greas once again produces exactly the item needed. Once the hook is set, he places his hands on the rope and begins his ascent, pulling himself in through the window once he reaches the ledge.
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"Relax" says Retzack. "This will take but a moment."
After the laceration site is solidified with a perimeter of army ant heads, Retzack sets a number of common spiders to spinning web to use as thread, and the horn of a stab-beetle makes for a fine needle.
A small number of Dead Movers are allowed to infest the croc limb, with a few more setting up in the limb of Eats-Bugs. The sensation is tingly, and not too unpleasant. With the colony established, Retzack sews kobold to reptile, uniting them forever.
"Do not struggle," the goblin says to the kobold as his eyes go wide. "The new limb will not take if you miss the old limb too much."
Once the bugs have established a connection, the dead croc flesh morphs and flows as it is shaped and, finally, merged with the living skin on the kobold.
Retzack smiles and steps back. If you did not know better, one could think the kobold was born with this limb.
He has done a fine, fine thing here.
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He was meant to die. That’s what those devices meant, I’m sure of it. Were we able to save him because I saw it would happen? He still may die for all that I know, I don’t know what scale the clock measures time in. The deathwielder is plying his craft on the poor whelp, does that count as death? Does the clock mark the end of a personality in a more metaphysical sense? I should draw Smoog a diagram, see what he thinks… Maybe not, there’s no telling what might happen if the wool-headed fool tries to build one.
At first, the bard simply looks at the ring to make herself look busy. It’s not until she realizes she’s recognizes the design that she’s shaken from her deep thoughts. Despite the troubling events of the last few moments, Sees-Death can’t help but laugh. “He was telling the truth after all. That snake Hammerschmitt can’t even boast without sounding like a liar. He claimed Mellisand the Black had been harrying his guardsmen. They couldn’t even find her to do anything about it. Hammerschmitt said he found her wounded in the sewers and took her captive. See, this is no ordinary ring...”
Smoog races after the crocogators all the way to the Kobolds' temporary base camp and watches as they scamper up the stairs out to the streets above.
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"Good Riddance! May you feast on softskins 'til your bellies burst."
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When Smoog rejoins the group caring for Eats-Bugs, he is struck by the awesome chirurgeon skills of the black goblin.
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"Ooooh, very nice. If that crock claw fails to permanently adhere, I can see about making you a mechanical hand.
There have been some very interesting advancements in the prosthetic arts lately.
Remind me to tell you about Mik-Mik the Grippli chieftain we ran into a while back.
And then there is the magical mechanical kneecap of Bohm the Brave;
Oh and Forminster's Fractal Finger;
Spring Feet, Ratchet-grips, so many useful devices..."
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Hegh, in his enlarged form, is actually more comfortable and maneuverable when aided by the weight of a ballast on his back. Thus, when he brings his claws to bear on the heavy iron net, grasping with claws clumsy from unaccustomed size, Oadir bearing down on his back between his wings served to steady him! As his eyes close and he concentrates, he can tell from hearing rather than seeing that his magic worked - the sounds of coins tinkling to the ground, of excited cries of surprise from the townsfolk watching from their windows, of the guards shouting in dismay as their net melts before their eyes...all prove that your gambit was successful. You pump your wings hard and soar through the rotunda surrounding the guard house sewer entrance, missing a painful crash into the building by mere inches and launching yourself high into the sky. Coins from the melted net flow off your wings and tail like water, catching the light of the sun and flashing as they tumble end over end to the street below. Impoverished street urchins and regular townspeople alike flood to the nearby streets, shoving coins into their pockets hurriedly.
They fall back in fear, however, as the two crocogators that Smoog sent upstairs emerge from the guardhouse, hissing and tossing their heads about in search of easy prey.
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Across town, at the warehouses, Thunk is doing something insane and getting away with it, again. The kobold has had no experience actually performing this kind of maneuver before, but as has been proven time after time in this adventure, the barbarian is adept at improvisation. The red-scaled terror of man vaults from wall to wall in a way that makes it look easy, but is actually nearly impossible for anyone not in peak physical condition.
Greas, shaking his head, is left to figure out what to do next, and does so with grace. Whirling his grappling hook rope a few times, he expertly hooks it into the wooden awning of the warehouse window and steadies it so that it could bear the weight of all of you. Thus providing an easier method of access, the kobolds are able to join Thunk on his perch and look inside.
Inside are large crates stacked high on one another, forming corridors and walkways between them. The warehouse has no lights on inside, so the only light source is coming from the windows lined around the upper corners of where the wall meets the ceiling. The boxes down below are cast in shadow and darkness as a result. There are crates near to the wall that are stacked high enough that you could climb down from the window to the ground on them. Next to you on the windowsill is a small smear of fresh Deathclaw blood.
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Down in the sewers, Retzack was making theory into reality by breaking new ground in the field of cross-species limb transplants. Eats-Bugs clenches his newfound claw in wonder before his eyes, staring at it. "I can even feel through the hand! The pain's gone!" he exclaims, in astonishment. He turns to Smoog with a wide grin on his draconic features. "It appears I won't be needing a mechanical claw after all!"
Nearby, Sees studies her ring, recalling the tales of the Black one. She was so named for being black-hearted, leaving devastated families and broken men in her wake as she terrorized nobility and guardsmen alike. She was a consummate thief, but her victims were usually so emotionally devastated by her manipulative schemes that they never reported their lost or stolen items.
You see, the sapphire in this ring reacts to the presence of powerful emotions in its vicinity. Really strong emotions; not mere anger, but fury. Not mere sadness, but despondency. Not mere contentment and attraction, but joy and lust. You get the idea. When the ring detects them, it radiates a soothing spell that works to sap the energy of those who feel whatever emotion strongly, reducing their fervor until they are left with a feeling of lackadaisical neutrality and funneling the stolen energy to empower the wearer of the ring. The form of empowerment varies according to the emotions stolen. The slain crocogator did the world a favor by biting the ring off the hand of that cruel witch and allowing her capture.
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Retzack continues fussing over the new limb, complimenting the young kobold for being so very brave, and testing the strength of the reptilian arm.
At Sees' outburst, he keeps checking the limb's bicep, but calls out to her, though he was only listening with half an ear. "Eh? You knew someone named Mellisand? That's odd. So did I.
After landing in this...realm, the tribe was befriended by a wanderer who called herself that. She was quite friendly at first. Very eager to help. And very, very smart. No sooner had a shared some secret concerning either the Void or the new experiments in insect manipulation than she was thirsting for new knowledge. I never had such a helpful lab partner!
We became close. As a brother she was to me. O, with her nothing did I hold back and I shared it all. Even that which was most precious to me.
Before the miracle of the Dead Movers, I used an artifact to help calm those that came to the infirmary in grievous pain. No analgesics did we have then, but there was a stone that helped sooth the injured so that I could do anything--from removing an appendix to cutting off a limb--and they would feel nothing at all. It was called the Stone of Irrationality.
One day it was just...gone. And so was she. I am sad to say that at the time I was...quite grieved by it. I was not myself. I thought I could provide everything she desired.
I was wrong."
Retzack chuckles to himself, still not looking at Sees-Death. "Heh. The funny thing is she never asked where I found the thing. A distance from the village there was a cave dedicated to an evil deity. It was guarded, but I was strong in the Void then and neutralized the guards, taking the stone and some minor treasured that helped the village get started.
Funny thing. Inscribed on the walls was a prophecy that someone would use the stone, and, after meeting some goal, would return.
And receive the curse of Vampirism."
Retzack smiles and chuckles softly, dismissing such a thing as folly.
"Why do you mention that name now? In this dreary place?" He continues to preen over Eats-Bugs, the question already forgotten as idle gossip.
Blood there
Thunk says pointing
Gorlaug must really hate him. It was the only explanation for Thunk's existence here. "Yes, there is fresh blood here. Any fool could see that. All this tells us is that the Deathclaw has not long been present. Now, if there was blood somewhere less obvious, that would be more useful in actually finding it. So, Thunk. Anything else you'd care to point out?" Perhaps that he intends to Thump the very fabric of reality until it gives in, and grants him his wish of being the overlord of all sandwiches? It would NOT be beyond the levels of inanity he achieved.
Intending to actually be useful, he reels in the grappling hook, cleans off any blood in reach that would be noticed below, and begins scanning the crates, and the paths they form. It was dark, but that meant little to a kobold, let alone Greas.
Krish ignores the other two, every sense straining to find evidence of the deathclaw.
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Thunk point out Sneak be rude. Thunk replies as he leaps down inside the room, he speaks as he falls backwards toward the ground then at the last moment turns and lands on his feet like cat.
defy danger
Those crocogators must have been the ones Kibra warned us for. The way they're rushing out like that makes me worry. We should go check up on the group! Though we shouldn't now, we'd be leading the guards straight there... Any suggestions?! Oadir says this all in Draconic just to make sure the guards don't understand if they can hear.
Oadir looks around the area, hoping to find a break into the shadows so they can quickly check up on the camp.
Thunk's club goes completely dim as he falls into the warehouse, and lands gracefully after a 30 foot drop. As it happens, due to his insanely lucky chances lately, the barbarian feels a ladder on the ground next to his right foot. Used by warehouse workers to update labels the crates in storage here, the ladder is tall enough to reach your comrades on the windowsill. This length makes it heavy, and you can see, Thunk, that the ladder is not meant to be laying down on the ground like this. It might have been knocked over by your quarry. Give me a strength check to lift it into position.
Krish, the spirits are hushed here. From above looking down, you can't see any trace of the deathclaw, but your predator/prey instincts are screaming that it's here. It hasn't moved on, it's definitely inside this warehouse. You point out a path, moving from crate tower to crate tower, across the warehouse. It'd be very dangerous for someone as small as a kobold to attempt those leaps, but to a Deathclaw, they'd be mere hops. When you point this out to the thief, he nods.
Greas, your eyes pierce the darkness and confirm what Krish suspects, your minds operating on a similar wavelength. Indeed, as you scan with your eyes while Thunk hefts the ladder from below, you can see a small splotch of blood two towers in toward the center of the large building.
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Eats-Bugs formerly respected you for offering him food to eat, Retzack, but now he looks at you with an expression bordering on awe. You can tell he would do almost anything you asked of him. His claw flexes constantly as the effects of your necromancy linger.
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Oadir, you're trying to get back down into the sewers. The guard house was a recognizable entrance point, but there are manholes dotted here and there throughout streets and alleyways nearby. With as many buildings around as there are, if Hegh shrunk and you worked together to lift the manhole cover, you could try to find your way back to the safe zone that way.
You also notice that the townsfolk are speaking to each other in awe (in Common) about a magical dragon with a demon rider that gave out gold to the peasants. The story appears to be spreading like wildfire as you and Hegh maneuver to escape pursuit. Many are looking up in wonder even as the guards chase you down.
Sees-Death could feel the weaves of fate around the prophesy, the ring, and the goblin, but she was in a fate-breaking mood. She looks at the Goblin, absorbed in his work, and slips the ring on her finger. "I have a perfume bottle of hers, is all." Looking up to the rest of the group, she changes the subject. "We may have to assume the others are dead or captured. In case they come back, I can leave notes on the walls and floors in grease pencil so they know where we went, but we should move on. Let's head toward that temple."
Hegh continues to fly low until he loses immediate pursuit, then lands in an alley. Hegh then shrinks down to normal size and leads Oadir back into the sewer through a hopefully unattended sewer grate. He gets his bearings and they race back to the original campsite. What do we find there?
"I would be less rude if you would at least use my name!" He. Was. Insufferable.
Greas points to the blood splotch further in. "It would have been more help to point out the blood there. It would appear the creature took a specific path atop the crates. So, Thunk. I'm certain you would do something I'd consider ill-advised, so I'll try to help save some time. Do you wish to attempt at acrobatics again and take the same path as the Deathclaw? Do you wish to attempt to goad it to your location? Or do you have something to surprise me with further? Take your time. It's not as if there's a creature fully capable of butchering us present."
Greas simply keeps an eye out for anything...unpleasant. The temptation to try his claw at the crate path was currently quelled by the knowledge doing so was liable to kill him in a variety of possible ways, but that seemed to be what Thunk was for. Somehow, he never met any serious consequence.
As Hegh and Oadir run along Oadir explains to Hegh how the Commonfolk were awe-inspired. We could make good use of that, they almost appeared to like us more than their guards. Coin really holds much more than its weight with the humans.
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Retzack leads Eats-Bugs over to the remnants of the reptile, the two of them talking excitedly the whole time on all manner of topics. "And now, you may witness something VERY special!"
Retzack stands near the carnage and calls the Reborn over. He communes with the insects, and the Reborn lies down on top of the gruesome remains.
Slowly at first, the flesh of the Reborn morphs and flows like wet sand, as it is absorbed into the fresh green corpse. All four formerly-human limbs slide down and stop along the reptile's side, while the torso slides upwards, creating a neck, until the massive flat head is a full three feat away from the body.
The rest of the human remains are absorbed to replace the lost and destroyed tissue. And although one front-paw is still that if a crocogator, the other one seems somewhat kobold-shaped.
[dice=Amalgamation. It's alive! ALIVE! Weird SCIENCE!]2d6+2[/dice]
Like a mountain awakening the eight-legged reptile arises, tasting the air of it's new life. The massive head rotates on an un-naturally long neck and looks around. As the primordial gaze lands on Retzack it stops, it's instinct to eat fighting with new, singular, instructions. The moment passes, and it casually crawls out of the wet pond with a speed no creature that large should posses.
Retzack breaths deeply, his face split in a massive smile. "Well, this has been a big day! Yes, Sees-Death, let us be about it!" Retzack leads Eats-Bugs and his crocogator monstrosity onward.
Of the human female there remains no trace.
STR
Thunk, not understand. You name is Sneak. Take step thing, Sneak
Thunk struggles to lift the ladder but he manages.
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For a moment, all he can do is look at Thunk. Whoever had gotten this idea into his head was going to regret it. "My name is Greas. Not Sneak. And don't argue with me as to what my own name is. I doubt you'd appreciate it if I insisted you were called 'Smash', would you?"
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That what I say. Sneak. I not call you sneak. I call you Sneak. You ears broke?
What is this one talking about. Perhaps there is something wrong with his ears. Not sure why he thinks I am calling him sneak, when I am calling him Greas
Krish tries to ignore Greas and Thunk, concentrating on finding the spirit-eater. He climbs down the ladder and stands a little aside, waiting for Greas to come down.
Smoog gathers his things and prepares to move out toward the Time Temple.
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"Sees, may I suggest that so others do not follow us, we leave a message like 'Follow our Dragon's Name' or something and then at the major crossroads we can leave letters, all but one leading astray."
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He then moves to each exit of their temporary base camp and etches a random letter in the stone with his laser eye.
Next to the actual exit they take he etches a 'T'.
...I should have known. I really should. When I have the time, I should find someone else to get him to realise.
With that revelation, a certain amount of Thunk-based tension dissipates. As he comes down, he only has one thing left to say on the matter: "You aren't saying what you think you are. Apologies all the same."
He takes the group along the Deathclaw's supposed path, watching carefully for any signs of the creature.
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Sees-Death looks up at Smoog with a blank expression. She hadn't thought of that, and it was very clever... but perhaps too clever. "That would be a great idea, if any of the others could read. Of those who left, the one with the more than a basic education is that abomination Oadir--if he hasn't been taken by the shadows yet--and any education an orc may have is dubious at best. Thunk might be able to read it, but we can never be sure what that handsome devil does or does not know. -And you're asking them to spell to boot? Not to mention, there will be no marks at crosspaths we don't visit, so anyone following need only trace back to the last marker and try another path. Honestly, Smoog, sometimes you're too clever by half. We can mark the correct way in red for Tannard, if that makes you feel safer."
"Oh, I understand now; they only seem smart when they are around us.
Kind of like when you are eating spicy food and then you take a bite of something bland but the spice is still there and makes you think it is all spicy - or when the hearth fire is lit and you put candles in the corners to light them but then later when the hearth fire goes out the candle-lit corners are still too dim to really see by - or ..."
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As he follows the group walking away from their makeshift camp, Smoog drones on for a few more minutes correlating comparisons that get more and more esoteric and quite honestly boring....
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"abomination, Oadir," is the first word you hear upon returning to the camp with Hegh, Oadir. You arrive in time to catch them before they leave - and, unfortunately, to hear Sees' disparaging remark.
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At the warehouse, Thunk has the ladder almost halfway reared up before the weight slips from his hands a little bit and the ladder collides with some boxes. They wobble...and tip dangerously far as a result of the impact...you look up at the huge tower of grain crates with bated breath...but they steady themselves without falling. Greas and Krish climb down the ladder, but the silence in the warehouse is pregnant with expectation. You feel as if you're being watched.
Krish, the light is faint down here among the crates, but you feel the presence of the Deathclaw nearby. Leading the rogue and the barbarian through the labyrinth of boxes, you come to a place with hallways leading away from you in three directions. The spirits tell you that you're practically right on top of the Deathclaw, but you can't see or hear any sign of it. What do you do?
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Oh hey, there you all are! Anything happen while we were gone? You had anything to do with those Crocogators back there?
Hegh listens patiently to the rest of Sees and Smoog's exchange, all the while staring at Eats Bugs new arm. Their story may be more interesting than ours.
When Oadir stops speaking, Hegh delivers his report.
In common: Oadir and I have returned from scouting. Thunk, Krish, and Greas are in pursuit of the Deathclaw.
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Sees whirls around, catching herself from the brink of panic at the last second. "Oh? Well, yes. Good. Good that you're not dead. We were just mounting a rescue effort." Her hand goes to the place at her belt where the iron dagger is usually sheathed, and fumbles. For a second she's surprised not to find it, and shoots Tallest-Silver a look, then she figures she probably stowed it in her pack so the "scout" couldn't steal it and bury it in her back.
"You're, uhm, looking hale, Hegh." Searching for the tracks her train of thought careened off, Sees follows Hegh's gaze to Bugs' hand. "WE MADE A MAP. While we were waiting. Like I said. Here. We waited here and made a map. You could... help Smoog add any landmarks you found. It could really help our siege efforts."
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Retzack pretends to be oblivious to entire exchange. Talking animatedly with Eats-Bugs on an assortment of things, he pretends not to catch the subtle underpinings of the conversation.
Until Sees finishes, then he pauses his private tete-a-tete to interject. "Yes, we did encounter some crocogators. A few of them remembered pressing engagements and had to run. But one of them decided to stay and join our little band...in one way, -and- another."
The thick, elongated neck of the croc-humo-giraff-o-gator-zombie extends above Retzack and sniffs the newcomers.
"Now that we see that the rumors of your death have been greatly exaggerated, do we need to join the hunt for the deathclaw? And what news from up above have you?"
Eehm, that brings me to my next point... There was actually a little bit of a death, or eh... well... Oadir points towards his eye, letting the Elemental slide back to reveal the empty socket.
I'm an eye short as of recently, Retzack, I know you can help with this, and seeing as this guy here has his hands full with his new... appendage I was wondering if we could discuss some plan for me as well? Unless anyone has a better idea? I'm all open to ideas here.
The open socket, if it could, stares directly at Sees.
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A smile slides across Retzack's face like a merchant opening a stall. The words crawl out of his mouth like an anthill disgorging it's army onto a puddle of honey. "Oh yes, yes of course, my good Oadir. An eye is a very important piece of...anatomy that one can not go without."
The pause in the sentance doesn't seem to have an explanation. It simply is.
The goblin goes over to the Croc-o-zombie and scratches it's upraised chin. He seems to whisper to it in a quite kind of chant. After a moment too large bugs climb over the massive head and stand on the squat face where two human and two crocogator eyes rest as points in a misshapen square. With the effort of two workmen propping up a manhole cover, the bugs grab and pull on a reptilian eye which pops out with a wet squelch.
"The croc's eye is fresher and hardier, so it will be easier to work with. We can get started, if you'll just step over here?"
Retzack's smiles is full of good intentions.
When Oadir reveals his socket, Sees has a spasm. She chokes down the laughter while Retzack yarns and elbows Tallest. "As if his odor needs more variety."
Wait, this is going to smell? Wait...I have an odor? So what do I wash myself for then? It's not easy staying this clean when you travel in the sewers. I don't smell anything. Oadir says after his Elemental with piercing senses passes along the 'joke'. He turns to the Elemental with a sincere request of olfactory feedback.
Meanwhile Oadir and his Elemental turn to Tallest: Tell me, please, do I really smell that bad? What is it with me lately?! Everything's all wrong... Sorry, didn't mean to unload on a Crackler like that. I suppose it's to do with the Sparks. Oadir is totally alluding to the latent potential of Electric Elemental magic in Tallest that he can sniff out from a mile away, but then he can't sniff himself apparently. But yeah nothing to do with romantic sparks or anything like that.
Oadir is falling apart here, he doesn't know how to compose himself anymore and it shows. Stuttering, fumbling, general awkwardness.
That cloth I gave you has your eye, if you've grown attached to it over the years.