A good helping of alcohol could be very useful to have around, let me have a quick mooch around to see if I can find any that are carrying size.
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Retzack moves off with Oadir and assists in the looting of the stores of vin. He tries a few select beverages, and pockets any he thinks might be either tasty or valuable or both. The octo-lizard and Eats-Bugs politely trail behind.
He leans close to Oadir and provides answers. "I can provide you no answers. The two female kobolds parry and dodge like orcish knife fighters, using words and subtle hints as weapons. The dragon, I think, displayed some yet-unknown magic, and showed the new female some favor he had not shown the old one. Or vice-versa. Watching those two not-bicker makes my head hurt.
And gratitude for the favor. Humans are so difficult to work with...in so many ways. With the addition of a reptile I just brought out the inner beast from which this one is descended. I added a special, personal, touch to create a servant as powerful as possible, as impenetrable as possible, and as ugly and foreboding as conceivable, so that fear itself will be my ally."
Sees-Death already considers the wine cellar hers, so she doesn't feel the compulsion to loot it. Instead, she waits by the staircase, and fishes the iron dagger from her pack, not willing to blow a clandestine mission with Gorlaug's Wrath. For some reason the sudden flair of emotion has passed.
"Wish I still had that hat... would have made peeking around corners a bit safer." She doesn't elaborate further on what the hat did, or why it's gone.
Oadir, it doesn't take a roll to load up on wine and ale - there's more here than you could ever hope to use on your own. You also find pewter-and-steel mugs and steins to drink from. Other than you all, the wine cellar appears to be unoccupied, for now. It's obvious from the lit torches that people do come down here from time to time, so it's only a matter of time before your group is discovered.
Meanwhile, back at the warehouses, Thunk successfully vaults from crate to barrel to vine and scrambles up onto a roof, carrying a guide rope that the other kobolds scramble up behind on. Seeing where you're going, the Deathclaw follows.
What follows next is a long scramble from rooftop to rooftop across the city. Where the roofs are too far apart to jump between, the Deathclaw is of great assistance. With its superior strength, it's able to make any jump possible that you'd need to traverse the city in great time. Fortunately for you four, the town guard are not sophisticated enough to have flying security, so a rooftop chase is difficult for them to undertake. Thus do you arrive at the Time Temple after about a half hour's journey. There are two mighty doors, each two stories tall, in the front of the huge structure on the hill. Imperfect visual aid, close to what I'm imagining. Looking at the doors, you can see smaller, normal-sized doors built into the very bottoms, for normal, non-ceremonial entry. You're all gathered on the roof of a residence that is next to the temple walls, looking down at the entryway. There are monks in habits and wearing heavy chains around their necks entering and leaving the temple, as well as normal-looking humans, dwarves, and elves. The panicked mood that the rest of the town is experiencing does not appear to have reached this area, and people move about sedately without any fear. What do you do?
Suddenly, Sees-Death is driven to her knees, the darkness pressing in around her. In one momoent, Hegh is helping Oadir to size up casks, a death clock spinning in the peak of health. In the next, Hegh is gone, and the atmosphere in the room is more somber. Sees cries out, watching reality flense and shred, leaving her on what can only be called the wrong side of fate.
For a moment, Sees kneels at the foot of the stairs, gaping. Then, surreal serenity overcomes her features, the ring on her finger taking away even her grief over the lost bloodguard.
She bites her lip, then snaps to the others. "Are we going upstairs or what?"
Where think friends be? Thunk asks his companions
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"If they're here, they're inside. They have a better covered means of approach than us." Greas is already surveying the area for every detail he can find, taking mental notes. The door could easily fit the Deathclaw, but opening it would be difficult and create a massive commotion. There were an assortment of pigskins, either unaware of the scenario or simply assured of their safety. They'd regret that later.
For now, the question of entry was his main concern. He looks between the rest of the group. "Do you see a way to get in without calling the entire town to converge on the temple? It would be noticeable to say the least if we opened the door for the Deathclaw, let alone made one ourselves."
Making very sure he's out of sight this time, he assesses possible entryways, considering the possibilities afforded by the Deathclaw.
Thunk also looks from where he is
discern realities as greas does
Oadir is now carrying the Ancient Sword himself, alongside with the Bõ Staff, he'll decide later which is to go where. He's taken all the coin he could get his hands on for himself, considering their future use as he sees fit.
Whatever's left of the pills he hands off to Greas.
The Drakerider's Helm he's given to whomever first asked for it, which may have been Shieldbearer honestly, he doesn't remember.
Also, with this chain of events having occured differently, Oadir's demeanor is a lot less jovial and he's taking down as much as he can drink.
Upon Sees snapping Oadir rears up. I'll go upstairs whenever you want, just let me... get just a little more to drink.
Sees leers at Oadir. "Among the things you lifted from my honorguard, did you happen to find a helmet?" She pauses in consideration. "I... I don't know why I didn't ask earlier." Her anger is clearly misplaced, and her eyes are pleading. Every few moments she'll tense, then relax in little hiccups of grief.
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I'm fairly certain I left a helmet with Shieldbearer. Also, for your information, I never LIFTED anything from Hegh. His final wish was that I distribute his belongings appropriately and I have been trying to do that. I'm not a monster or anything.
At that last sentence Oadir gives pause, turns around and gulps down on whatever booze is closest. He's starting to wonder if he can even get drunk. Oadir is noticeably trying to drink away his guilt.
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Smoog solemnly slides over to the stairs leading up.
The loss of Hegh is hitting everyone pretty hard.
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Thunk will be inconsolable. Why isn't Sees showing much grief? They were so close.
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"Lets go up."
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Krish watches the building with Greas. Having accomplished his objective, he is complacent to return to the others and trusts Greas to lead them there.
He mostly watches the deathclaw, though. He is not sure of how he feels about having bound to himself through so much voluntary pain a creature that eats spirits. The very idea of such an act was repugnant to him. And yet here he is.
Thunk goes to Krish.
Thunk not know. How you make thump?
Outside the Time Temple, Greas, you do see some tall, vertically rectangular windows in the walls of the Time Temple. It'd be fairly conspicuous during the day, but if you were to all cling to the back of the Deathclaw's hide, it could definitely reach that height. It's beyond even Thunk's acrobatic talents otherwise.
Inside the Time Temple, Smoog and Sees-Death, with Retzack, Oadir, Eats-Bugs and Tallest-Silver in tow, climb stealthily up the stairs. Despite their numbers, they move in near-silence - though not trained as thieves, "lesser races" learn fairly early on in life that moving silently is a key survival skill. Oadir stumbles a bit on the way up the stairs, having drank his wine a little too quickly in remembrance.
At the top of the stairs is a wall of stone with a wooden door. Beyond, you hear the clinking of dishes, the running of water, and the shouting of instructions; it sounds like an active kitchen. What do you do?
It was about 4 or 5 when you found the warehouses, 25 minutes inside, taming the Deathclaw, and another 45 or so traveling across the rooftops of Estr. Let's say it's 6:30 right about now; you can smell food cooking from some of the nearby houses.
The sight of the windows is a relief, though the requirements of reaching it means that there's still a problem going unnoticed while there was light. It was significantly better than the doors, though.
Greas points to the window. "If we were to hold fast to the Deathclaw, it could bring us in through that point. At the same time, we would likely be seen if we tried to enter that way before dark. It's likely our best option, but what now? Enter now and likely draw the eye of all passing by, wait till dark, or create a distraction? As much as we need to meet with everyone else, we do not want an army with us."
"Death." Sees had not been behind Oadir before, but she's there to respond to the clandestine inqiry. "What else is there?"
The dirge pushes past the two, approaching the door.
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Retzack sighs. It is the sound a fertile-yet-lifeless planet makes as it patiently waits for a particularly thick pond of amino acids to eventually evolve and develop spaceflight. "That...could be made a bit more specific. That particular dish can be served in any building here. What makes this particular site so succulent?"
Thunk looks around for a large object that can be thrown to create such a distraction
"There's always Death and alcohol! This place has enough of one, we bring the other!"
Oadir slaps Retzack on his back with a bit more strength than he was expecting, but it's all in good will. Maybe it shook loose the grinding gears a bit.
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Retcon edit: Fueled by Oadir's alcohol-filled ardor, Retzack asks: What should I be on the lookout for?
Edit retcon retcon edit: As the group muses over how to get in the door to the temple, Retzack bids Eats-Bugs to stay, while he and his minion slink back into the sewers. In time they come across a kobold that died valiantly in battle. He leans in close, and whispers, almost as one would speak to a lover on a silken pillow, and not to a corpse in a stench-filled sewer, "You have not yet slain your last." After a few moments he rejoins the group as if nothing odd happened.
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Retzack, you smell a faint undertone of rot and decay underneath the smells of food being cooked for dinner. It's very well disguised, but your necromancer nose recognizes undeath when you smell it.
Sees, you crack open the door and see a bustling, brightly-lit kitchen. There's a head chef - his authority obviously evident in his biggest hat - shouting orders in a far corner. Sous-chefs move with a purpose here and there and everywhere. There are soups being prepared, a roast being coated in marinade sauce, and and a small tower made of finely-crafted sugar and cake near the door. On this tower are two toy figures holding hands. In deep, legato groans, the staff are responding with "Yes, chef!" to the head chef's shouted commands in Common.
Back on the rooftops outside, Thunk is initially frustrated by his search. However, after checking a few of the surrounding rooftops next to the Time Temple, he strikes gold - finding a rooftop beekeeper's residence, complete with row after row of hives.
Thunk points to the hives Thunk take buzz things and throw to ground?
He looks to Greas
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After looking over Sees shoulder at the cooks behavior Smoog whispers...
"I do not think this Temple is occupied by the traditional cloistered monks and clerics of the Timeist Cronologian Orthodoxy.
This celebratory behavior is more in line with Populous Punctual Reformists and might indicate that..."
What is about to happen?
Who’s really in control here?
What here is not what it appears to be?
As Thunk points out the hives, a sadistic grin forms on Greas's face. "Perfect. Make it happen, and let's be on our way."
His only regret was that he couldn't watch the chaos unfold.
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Thunk shrugs and hops on over to the roof top
once there he lines himself up at the far end, then as he runs back towards the rooftop he came from, as he goes he baseball bats each hive over the edge to the ground creating destruction and chaos
STR to bat the hives where he wants them to go
Defy Danger Dex to make it back
Sting things sting their things, so fun, make me want to sing
For once, he agreed with Thunk. The sight of beehives sailing through the air was even enough to distract him from most of the potential issues of his musical outburst. He did however notice that he was getting a little too wrapped up in his song to keep full pace. "You're slowing down! You can move faster than this!"
Thunk, you can't escape getting stung a few times when you run down the line of beehives, swinging your club. Still, with Greas helping you escape, you manage to avoid the biggest clouds of angry insects that arise from the broken hives when you knock them over the rooftop to the streets below. Hollering and cries of fear and terror start immediately from all corners of the square, causing instant chaos as the townsfolk of Estr scatter in all directions, fleeing.
What is about to happen?
A wedding. You recognize the two miniature figures, posted up on the cake. It looks to be between an elven couple.
Who’s really in control here?
The head chef has unquestioned authority over all of his servants in the kitchen.
What here is not what it appears to be?
The cupboards to the immediate left of the wine cellar door have loose walls that can be lifted and moved to the side. By crawling through these cupboards, those of you that are small enough can slip through the kitchen unnoticed, if you wish to do so.
Krish watches with a grin as Thunk flings the beehives out into the crowds. Then he prepares to make use of the distraction.
At your gesture, Krish, the Deathclaw lowers its one remaining arm to the ground, allowing you to clamber up from its wrists to its shoulder and swing onto its back. When Thunk and Greas return, gasping and slapping at themselves to keep the wasps away, they see the shaman already waiting for them atop the Deathclaw.
You feel a great sense of power from riding this thing. The strength in its muscles is very noticeable beneath you. You're certain that the herculean creature barely registers your weight on its back.
Damn bees - Well. Isn't this a sight.
"I see you're already prepared. We have one more left." Greas makes his own way onto the Deathclaw. "Thunk, get on, quickly!"
With an expression of serene concentration, Sees puts Gorlaug's Wrath to her lips and aims for the pig with the biggest hat.
"With this type of festivity wine and spirits are usually consumed in mass quantities.
Perhaps we could lace the kegs with poison and kill them all at once?
"
Thunk climbs on
Outside the temple, the calm, happy atmosphere of dinnertime has been completely ruined by bees. Thousands of bees, knocked loose from their rooftop perches and into the streets below by Thunk's club.
The barbarian is the last one to mount up on the Deathclaw's back. While in direct contact like this, Krish finds that he can communicate more reliably with the Deathclaw - through their contact, Krish can feel the creature's very mind inside his own, and the Deathclaw understands their intent right away. As the screaming down below intensifies and people scatter in all directions, nobody is glancing upward. You're able to scale the wall of the Time Temple and reach the window on the Deathclaw's back.
Perched on the windowsill, looking in, you can see a large gathering of people. Not far from the window you're in is a wide, iron chandelier lit with candles, and it's not the only one. The hall you're looking into is enormous, with tall, vaulted ceilings and chandeliers. Everyone down below is a member of the "good races" and is dressed extremely well. You note two people down below that seem to be the center of an especially large amount of attention, a man and a woman, the woman wearing a white veil.
What's about to happen in the kitchen area, elsewhere in the Temple?
Sees-Death is holding a finely carved horn, and as she lets loose a lungful of air, the sound that leaves the end of the horn bends the air with its force.
The guff of sound hits the head chef in the chest, tearing at his clothes and causing him to bleed from the ears and eyes.
The sound shakes the walls and sounds for all the world like the roar of an ancient dragon.
Oadir whispers back to Retzack. "I was hoping you knew, you've spent more time with this end of the group than me. I can only guess they want to perform some sort of ritual, with it being a temple and all. Probably related to the dragon."
Smoog rushes into the room a dozen steps and unleashes his laser eye on any combatant that seems dangerous.
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"The wedding entertainers are here you see!
A Musician, a Magician and a Menagerie!
Make way for Tanard's Terrible Troop!
Don't burn the beef or spill the soup.
My eye glows red I cannot lie.
Now it's time for you to die."
Looking below, it could only be presumed this was an overblown ceremonial event, for which Greas lacked the necessary tools to properly dispatch of everyone present from his current location. That was not the first concern anyway. They needed to get further within the building unseen.
Mentally, Greas begins to map out the important features of the area, looking for a means to pass by unnoticed and potential problems in the area.
Thunk looks around, trying to decide what to thump
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Retzack stares aghast at Sees-Death. "Oh confound woman! They're just...people. They offer no threat and hold nothing of value! Are we assassins now that we just...slaughter whatever packs of humans we find vulnerable?"
He sighs heavily.
"Oh, very well, but in the future we might at least pinpoint targets that at least offer some profit!"
He lazily waves his hand forward, and the croc-o-lisk rushes it's bulk forward, attacking the kitchen staff with claw and fang.
The beams from Smoog's eye arc and crack with surging arcane light.
If we're coming in hot anyway:
Oadir rushes out and starts drunken brawling his way through the kitchen, causing more chaos than damage. Grabbing whatever food he thinks looks good in between punches and shoves it in his mouth.