Trell says, in his most husky, bravado-laden voice, "You should take this deal. It's in your best interest, believe me."
Something about his posture seems to be disarming, despite what one could only assume is a veiled threat in his words, because Barvasi gives the young elf an appreciative glance.
He considers the group for a few long, uncomfortably silent moments before a slow, predatory grin spreads across his face. "I like you," he says to Destriant. "You and your mates. Straight and to the point. Because you've been straight wit' me, I'll be straight wit' you. I've got what yer after. Been bringin' me in quite a bit o' coin, too. Hard to give that up, as ye can surely understand. But I could be persuaded. It's a diminishing return, the information I've got. Won't pay fer me supper forever, as they say. But still some gold I can squeeze out of it. A bit o' compensation would go a long way, an' it sounds ta me as you've got exactly that. But," he says, raising his left forefinger up and tapping his nose, "I must also say that today has been insufferably boring."
He waves a hand behind him. "I thought this whole riot business would offer more entertainment than it has. Even tryouts 'ave been a drag." He motions disdainfully at the six low-lifes scattered about the room behind you. "All of 'em attemptin' to enter my good graces--and my employment. So far, I must say I've been nuffin' but disapointed." He directs this last word sharply at the thugs in the back, before turning an amicable grin back to the party. "I will happily waive a, erm... let's call it a 'finder's fee,' yeah? I'll happily waive my finder's fee if one o' you lot will show these idiots 'ow it's done in a few games o' knivesies. Whatcha say? You do well enough, an' I'll part wif this fine bit of information free o' charge." His grin quickly turns predatory again.
The game is simple. Two contestants stand on top of opposite ends of a long wooden table. Their right hands are bound to their sides with boiled leather straps, belt pouches are fitted to their waists, and a dagger is stuck in the tabletop between them. The game begins after a count of 10, during which time observers can place bets by tossing gold pieces onto the table and standing at the end of the table where their chosen fighter stands. As the game begins, each contestant rolls initiative.
The game is won in one of two ways. Either you can force the other contestant to fall off the table, or you can end the game with more gold than your opponent claimed by snatching fistfuls of coins off the table as a standard action (each standard action spent nets you 1d10 gp) that provokes an attack of opportunity. Since each opponent only has one free hand, the first round is typically a mad lunge for the dagger, forcing the slower opponent to make grabs for gold instead. There aren't many rules beyond this; most knivesies games rapidly devolve into a tabletop brawl, with the first person to drop or touch the ground losing.
The game ends when one contestant is unconscious, dead, or knocked off the table; as soon as no coins remain on the table; or as soon as any coin is knocked off the table. When the game ends, any unconscious, dead, or de-tabled contestant is automatically the loser. Otherwise, the winner is determined by who has the most coins. Half the total is paid to the winner, while the other half is distributed among the betters standing at the winning end of the table.
Andakos steps up and takes the coin pouch back. "Sounds fun. I'm in."
Trell sets his sword against a wall and steps forward.
It does sound like a good time, doesn't it? I will also partake. He makes a show of it by inconspicuously flexing his muscles and loosening up his neck with a few head rolls.
Trell has heard of this game and has actually done a few mock challenges with Vencarlo...without the dangers...of course. Vencarlo always said that while it is a dangerous game for dangerous men...it has it's utility as a combat training scenario. Trell was never able to best the old man but he came close a couple of times and thinks that this should mean that this lot will be easy work.
Free her...
You feel a pull against your eyeballs and can't help but draw your eyes to the birdcage hanging from the ceiling, where the mewling house drake is imprisoned.
Free her...
Devargo slaps his left hand against the armrest. "Ha! Love it! Let's go, lads! Set 'er up!" Two of Barvasi's brutes, waiting just outside, open up the double doors and step inside. Somehow, they heard their employer's command through the thick oak doors. They clear off one of the tables, and one draws a huge, rust-pitted knife from a belt sheath and slams it into the wood of the table before backing away.
The crony hopefuls look uncertainly at each other, before one of them steps up and straps on the belt pouch, pounding one fist hard against his chest in challenge.
"Roight," Barvasi says with a toothy grin, pointing at Andakos. "You, tiefling. You first."
Destriant takes off his dark cloak, revealing well worn, utilitarian traveling clothes underneath. He hands the cloak to Maelis. Sliding a dagger from the sheathe on his back, and lays it on a nearby table before taking his belt off, and handing that to Maelis as well, his rapier and targe banging slightly with the movement. He looks impassively at the ruffians in the back of the room, "I'm in. It's been a little while since I've had the opportunity to play knivesies, what with a respectable employer, and all that."
Andakos sets his spear and his pack down.
He climbs up on the table and stares at his opponent. His eyes flash red and his tail swishes and undulates like it has a mind of its own. He puts his right hand to his side, ready to be bound.
Andakos and the thug step up onto the table as everyone gathers around one side or the other. Most of the low-lifes are piled in behind the challenger, but a couple actually toss in gold and stand behind Andakos. He's no small man, after all, and perhaps they think something in his daemonic nature will make him a better contestant.
One of the Eel's End enforcers approaches with leather cords and ties your arm down to your side. Having your arm pinned seems to be throwing off your sense of balance a bit, but you manage to compensate for the most part.
The thug is just a little bit faster than Andakos and yanks the knife out of the table, stepping back while purchasing precariously on the pile of gold coins littering his feet.
Andakos curses under his breath when the thug gets to the dagger first. His mind quickly considers options and discards them.
Knock him off the table.... no, he's too big.
Try to get the knife.... no, I'm not fast enough, especially with my hand bound.
Just grab for coins? Too predictable.
...
Huh.
Andakos kneels down to grab a coin, knowing that he will be attacked. Once the coin is safely in the pouch, he uses his tail to knock a coin onto the floor, thus ending the game.
The thug's dagger sails over Andakos' head as he ducks down and plucks up a single coin, using his tail to whip a coin off the table and thus end the game.
The result is immediate and loud. The thugs yell furiously, pounding on the table. The thug on the table stares at the dagger despondently, as if not sure what just happened.
At his throne, Devargo watches Andakos with hard, calculating eyes. After several moments, he raises a hand to silence the low-lifes. "Real cute, boy, but it's bad form. And it's also not entertainin'. That was the deal, entertainment. The next o' you lot better give better than that."
The low-lifes are now glaring with open venom at the party as you collect your winnings.
Devargo points at Destriant. "You next, Mister Respectably Employed. An' if ye don't wanna risk me losin' my patience, best give a better show than demon-boy. Here out, coin-on-the-floor rule is nixed. You get all the coins on the table, or ya fall off. Get movin'."
The thugs, slightly ameliorated, begin betting again. In fact, it seems like there's even more coin on the table this time as the enforcer ties down Destriant's arm and his challenger, then jams the rusty dagger back into the table.
After a moment of apprehensive hush, Barvasi calls, "Go!"
Destriant moves just a fraction quicker than the new challenger.
Andakos tosses a gold to his opponent as he gathers his things. "Buy your boys a round on me. No hard feelings? I didn't feel like getting stabbed today."
Destriant's mind races as his wrist is being lashed. He needs to do everything he can to make this as entertaining as possible. Destriant's left hand whips out as he lunges forward the instant that Barvasi starts the match. He beats his opponent by less than a finger, snatching the dagger away from the other man's already clutching grasp.
In a second of recklessness, almost without thought, Destriant slides his arm to the left, dropping the dagger over the edge of the table to clatter to the floor tantalizingly out of reach. The instant his hand opens, he fears he made a mistake, but seizes the opportunity created by the other man's dumbfounded look, and throws a punch at his stomach.
The crowd mutters in surprised confusion at Destriant's action, then cheers as he swings. Comprehension slowly dawns on the thug's face as Destriant's fist comes in low. He can't react, but unfortunately the dodgy footing on the rickety wooden table keeps Destriant from landing a solid blow, instead glancing harmlessly off his leather armor. After a moment of uncertainty, he ducks down and snatches up a fistful of coins, to riotous applause from his crony friends, but his sweaty hands are slippery and he only manages to grab 2 coins.
Destriant squares his shoulders, and sets his feet more appropriately for left-handed swings, and throws another punch, this one aimed at the other man's jaw.
The thug dips to the side and takes the blow on his shoulder instead, but it still clearly hurt him. Seeing that the vigilante isn't going to follow suit in coin collecting, he swings hard at Destriant's temple. He deflects the blow, but not entirely, and the fist clips Destriant's head.
[color=green]
Destriant (21/21 hp, 3 NL)
Thug (0 dmg, 5 NL)
[/color=green]
Destriant half staggers back trying to roll with the blow before throwing another punch. His impulse to feint, and circle his opponent is limited by the binding, and the small space.
The thug reels as he takes the blow to the chin. Desperate, he sweeps his leg out to try and trip Destriant. The vigilante goes to step back from the clumsy trip attempt, but the edge of the table gives him pause, and suddenly he's falling.
Destriant manages to control his fall just enough to stay on the table. The crowd bellows at the turn of events.
[color=green]
Destriant (21/21 hp, 3 NL)
Thug (0 dmg, 10 NL)
[/color=green]
Destriant guardedly gets back up from his back after having almost fallen off the table. He's a little more cautious as he approaches, keeping an eye out for more sweeping legs as he aims a kick at his opponent's midesection.
The thug makes a breathy noise that sounds something like "Oosk!" as all the wind gets kicked out of him. He doubles over awkwardly, and his balance shifts as he topples off the table with a clatter. The crowd bellows and groans.
Gathering up the earnings, the pot totals 50gp! 25 goes to Destriant, and Maelis, Trell, and Andakos each get 6gp.
Devargo slams his fist on the armrest with a bellowing laugh. "Now that was a f~%$in' game! I like your moxie, lad. Now, I do believe we 'ad one more challenger. You up for it, li'l elf? Eh?"
The voice in the back of your mind pulls your thoughts toward the cage again. Free her... She suffers... free her...
Trell watches the fights ahead of him but is visibly distracted and looking up towards a cage that holds a house drake within it. He smiles, distractedly, as Andakos and then Destriant collect their winnings and move away from the table.
It takes a moment for Trell to respond when he is addressed as the next person up I wish to make a deal with you, good sir. If I win...I want to forgo my winnings...but instead...I want you to free the house drake that you have locked in that cage over there.
Devargo blinks mildly at Trell's demand, then begins laughing riotously. "Oh, boy, you are a daft one, ain't ya? You know 'ow much a 'ouse drake goes for on the black market? A meager-ass pot don't come near the value of that li'l beast. In the thousands, it is, mate. Now, you gonna play or are we callin' it quits already? I'm feelin' a bit more amenable after that last bout, but I ain't satisfied jes' yet." His lazy grin has returned, but it doesn't reach his eyes, which are zeroed in on Trell.
Without another word, Trell steps up on the table not breaking his eye contact with Devargo. He lets a small smile form as he finally looks to his opponent and let's his hand be secured to his side.
He then immediately lunges for the dagger and secures it as quickly as he can. The dagger immediately begins to glow with arcane energy.
Devargo watches Trell like a hawk as he steps up onto the table. This time, the surface groans under the weight of two men and a substantial pile of gold. There is easily over 100gp on the table now.
Trell blasts past the thug and snatches up the dagger. The second it begins to glow, the thug reels back as if slapped. "Oi!" he gasps. "Magic!"
This immediately causes an eruption of dissent from the gathered cronies. Several calls of "cheater!" and "witch!" ring out, but a sharp, ear-splitting whistle silences everyone. Devargo sweeps his gaze over the low-lifes, disgust and anger plain on his face. "You sorry sacks wanna work fer me, you better get used ta seein' some piddly-arse magic tricks! Now quit yer bellyin' an' win the game or get f$#!in' carved like a pot roast! Choice is yours!" He then nods at Trell to proceed.
The thug in front of him has paled considerably, and ducks in to grab some coins. He manages a massive handful, shoving 10gp into his pouch.
[color=green]
Trell (23/23 hp)
Thug (0 dmg)
[/color=green]
Maelis watches the brutal games in shock, his arms loaded down with Destriant's gear, thankful to be burdened at the moment. After a few moments his arms begin shaking with fatigue and he drops the load of gear in a crash.
With a flash of movement, Trell stabs down at the thugs right leg with the dagger. He will leave it in the thugs leg if it it hits.
Trell then takes advantage of the thugs actions and jams the palm of his fist into the hilt of the dagger.
After jaming the hilt of the dagger, Trell send his fist into the face of the thug
While the barrage originally deeply intimidates him, the thug's eyes light up when he realizes the elf's folly. He pulls the dagger from his leg and goes to stab Trell with it. He just manages to nick Trell hard in the bicep, drawing blood. The other thugs go ballistic.
[color=green]
Trell (19/23 hp)
Thug (7 dmg, 4 NL)
[/color=green]
Trell winces a bit as the the blade bites into his skin...but he does his best to not let it show outwardly.
He then smiles slyly as he reaches out and grabs a hold of the daggers blade, drawing blood in the palm of his hand as he does so. He does not flinch at this. He just smiles at the the thug.
A moment later the crackle of electricity can be heard and as a sudden jolt is sent through the blade and into the thug.
He goes to channel electric power into the thug's knife... and the spell fizzles. The thug looks in confusion at Trell for a moment, then shrugs and thrusts the knife at Trell. The thug gets an unbelievably lucky strike, slipping the blade in between a gap in the links of the elf's chain shirt and burying almost to the hilt in his abdomen.
[color=green]
Trell (11/23 hp)
Thug (7 dmg, 4 NL)
[/color]
Devargo sneers from his chair. "Looks like ye bit off more'n you can chew, boy." He taps his fingers against his armrest, watching with sadistic amusement as Trell gets carved up by the thug. Blood spills across the gold coins strewn around the contestants' feet.
Trell hollers in pain as the blade finds purchase yet again.
Out of sheer anger and frustration...and an incredible amount of pain...Trell begins pummeling the man with his fists.
His fathers words from not so long ago begin to run through Trell's head "You are trying to be to fancy about it, son. Just fight like I've taught you. Stop trying to look cool while doing it." No truer has his fathers words been than right now.
You are fool, Trell...and now look what you have gotten yourself into he thinks.
Another of his father's many words of wisdom comes to mind as Trell hauls back to swing at the thug and the dagger heads straight for his throat: The gods love an idiot.
He can't help but think maybe the statement applies today.
The thug's thrust at Trell's throat is interrupted when he slips just slightly on the coins slick with Trell's blood. It's just enough of an opening for the magus to tuck down and uppercut the thug clear off the table. He lands in a bloody, crumpled heap in the corner. The low-lifes fall into a shocked silence.
GAME OVER!
Devargo slow-claps from his throne, laughing hysterically. "That was a f$+#in' riot! Nice uppercut, kid! Oh, Nine 'ells, I ain't been that entertained in a wolf's moon. Deals, a deal, yeah?" He snaps his fingers, and an enforcer steps in. "Get my box from my chambers, an' be quick about it." There is an uncomfortable silence for a handful of minutes, as the thugs stare with newfound fear at the party and Devargo stares with an inscrutable intensity. Finally the enforcer returns with Devargo's box, an iron lockbox that he opens with a key around his neck. He removes a stack of letters neatly tied with hemp string and hands it to the enforcer, who hands it to Destriant. "I believe that concludes our business. Do be careful out there, lads. It's a riot." He offers a toothy grin, and the enforcers step in to facilitate the party's exit if necessary.
Trell, bleeding and exhausted, turns to leave. But, as he does, he takes a good look at the cage holding the drake. He is trying to see if there is anyway to free him either now...or come back later.
Nothing immediately jumps out at you, but you think if you came back at the right time, you would have significantly less prying eyes to deal with.
Destriant notices Trell's attempt at a casual scan of the room, seeing him focus on the cage. He gets close to Trell, clapping him on the shoulder, "you availed yourself well! I didn't think you were going to come through," he says to Trell in a friendly manner, "I was reminded of that scuffle we got into with the city guards that one time. You fought as well then, when we were fighting back to back, always covering each other." he gives Trell a warm smile.
I'm trying to pass a secret message to Trell, and the crew. Mostly aimed at Trell, but hoping others pick it up as well. Basically trying to tell him that if he makes a move, I'll give him backup, whatever that move entails. DC 15 for a simple message, 20 for a more complex one. Am opposed Sense Motive from an unintended recipient also decodes the meaning.
Destriant's clever wording seems to have fooled Devargo and his cronies, but the rest of you understand his meaning well enough: if Trell chooses to make a move against Devargo to rescue the house drake, Destriant will back him up.
After reminiscing briefly with Trell, Destriant gets a thoughtful look on his face. Turning to Barvasi he says, "in all the excitement, I nearly forgot. My employer as also wondering if you had any news of Gaedren Lamm. Apparently his operation got busted up right at the beginning of the riots, and Lamm himself disappeared. My employer has a very credible report that he escaped alive, but from there his trail runs cold. Compared to Amprei, the lost investments in Lamm's operations are small, but my employer does not like investments skipping out of responsibility. Your network of webs stretches wide across the city, have you heard anything about where he's cowering for refuge?" Destriant tried to keep how face and voice impassive.
Devargo raises his eyebrows mildly. "I may 'ave heard a thing or two. I got more'n one cricket chirpin' in my web, see. But it'll cost you." His wolf grin reappears so quickly, it's almost like it never left. "What is it you'd like to barter with, eh?"
Destriant half smirks, giving Barvasi an appraising glance, "now I think we're speaking the same language," he says warmly, "we have coin, of course. If that's what you'd prefer, we can make that exchange - but money is easy to come by for people like me and you. The riots can hit some resources harder than it hits our coffers." Destriant throws a sightly dismissive glance at Barvasi's new recruits before continuing, "looks like you're a little short on muscle at the moment. You've seen some of what my boys and I can do," Destriant casually gestures to the table where Knifesies was held, "if you've a job that needs doin', we can talk about that. Unless you had something else in mind."
Maelis had turned to leave when Destriant mentioned Lamm. At the mention of that bastard's name his back stiffens, and he turns back to stand next to Destriant, his attention now fully focused. He waits to see what Devargo offers, and though he has kept his word so far he doesn't fully trust the man.
"Oh, aye," Devargo drawls. "S'true enough. But what I'm dreadful impoverished on in all this nonsense is entertainment. You sported me enough fer yer original askin' price. But you want that, I want summat from him."
He points to Trell with an absolutely vile grin. "You, boy." Without taking his eyes off Trell, he points at the birdcage. "That thing's been squawkin' an' wailin'. Best put it out of its misery. Kill it."
His eyes are practically on fire.
Trell gives Drevago a look of complete confusion. Why would you want me to kill such a valuable creature? You said yourself how much you an fetch on the black market for one of these. Sounds like a poor buisness decision just for some sick and demented entertainment
Trell then shrugs. Lamm is more important than some stupid bird. I will do this thing
He turns twords the cage and stares at the drake for a moment or two.
He then takes a deep breathe and sends 2 magic missle bolts flying through the air...but they do not hit the drake...instead...they hit the bracket the attaches the cage to the ceiling.
Trell turns back to Drevago, shrugs, and says Ooops...I missed
Trell gives Drevago a look of complete confusion. Why would you want me to kill such a valuable creature? You said yourself how much you an fetch on the black market for one of these. Sounds like a poor business decision just for some sick and demented entertainment
Trell then shrugs. Lamm is more important than some stupid bird. I will do this thing
Trell then starts to slowly walking over to the cage. He makes some subtle face gestures at the drake to try and ensure him that he is not going to kill him...and that they will need his help...but it probably just looks like Trell's nose itches...
Trell take a deep breath, raises his sword in the air as it flashes bright with arcane energy (the dagger laying on the ground that was still pulsing with energy winks out as he does so), and then brings the sword down at the drake in it's cage...but at the last possible second...his blade diverts course and smashes into the lock on the cage.
Initiative:
There is a single moment of tense silence as everyone stares at Trell. Devargo finally smirks and says, "Sniffin' out a bunch o' s&&@es workin' fer the coppers ain't neva money wasted."
The King of Spiders' right hand, which has never left its armrest, presses a hidden button under the lip of the armrest. It becomes immediately apparent that it opens a trap-door in the floor. It is most apparent to Destriant and Trell, who are sadly standing directly over it.
The floor drops out from under Destriant and Trell!
Trell's lightning reflexes let him grab onto the lip of the hole, but Destriant is caught completely off-guard and tumbles into the room below.
He lands on something surprisingly spongy, lessening the impact of his fall. He takes non-lethal damage and lands prone. The room around him is pitch-dark, save for a narrow shaft of light that splashes over him from the room above. Looking down, his heart drops into his stomach when he realizes what cushioned his fall.
Spider-webs. Layers and layers and layers of spider-webs everywhere. In the thin band of dim light just ahead, something large rises up. Destriant can't see what it is. He can see it is roughly humanoid in shape, but the light glints off of far, far too many eyes...
[color=green]
Andakos (23/23 hp)
Thug 2 (0 dmg)
Thug 4 (0 dmg)
Thug 5 (0 dmg)
Thug 6 (0 dmg)
Maelis (22/22 hp)
House Drake (0 dmg)
Devargo (0 dmg)
?? (0 dmg)
Destriant (21/21 hp, 6 NL)
Trell (11/23 hp)
[/color=green]
"Godsdammit, Trell!"
Andakos drinks an extract of shield, because f!%+ you guys.
The thugs close on Maelis and Andakos, clearly eager to impress Devargo. Passes by Andakos and takes a nasty cut from his longspear for his troubles. Holding his bleeding side, he throws open the main doors in order to flee. His friend, unfazed, stabs at Andakos and just manages to slide his dagger past his force shield and between the links in his chain shirt.
Thug 5 steps all the way around Maelis to get to his other side. The move has no tactical value; you can only imagine he wanted to be in a better range of view for Devargo to watch his badassery. Unfortunately Maelis doesn't have his wits about him yet, and the thug hits.
The final thug makes ready to charge, but fails to do so because now his fellow thug has gotten in his way. Shouting angrily, he moves up to attack Andakos instead. Andakos sees him coming a mile away, and while he's scrambling over the table, the tiefling gores him in the leg. Panicked, the thug starts running for the door.
[color=green]
Andakos (19/23 hp)
Thug 2 (0 dmg)
Thug 4 (5 dmg, fleeing)
Thug 5 (0 dmg)
Thug 6 (7 dmg, fleeing)
Maelis (20/22 hp)
Devargo (0 dmg)
?? (0 dmg)
Destriant (21/21 hp, 3 NL)
Trell (11/23 hp)
[/color=green]
For a brief moment Maelis is caught off guard when the floor drops away, but having had no trust for Devargo or his twisted game from the very beginning, he immediately drinks the small vial of antitoxin concealed in his palm.
Then, he takes a step back from the thug in front of him, waves a hand in front of his face and says a quick prayer to Calistria, asking for her divine grace, and suddenly 5 identical copies of his form can be seen stepping out from his body, each gently stroking that tattoo and bearing the same wide grin.
With a shrieking hiss, the house drake slams herself against the bars of her cage, trying to break them open, but they're just a little too thick for her small body to be effective. She wails in frustration, leaning a claw out of the cage toward the battered and bloody Trell far below her, as if desperately trying to touch him.
Devargo strolls from his chair, smug grin still on his face, and makes his way next to where Trell dangles precariously from the lip of the trap door. "Shoulda jes' left it alone wif the li'l beastie, lad, come back dead o' night to try an' rescue it. Ye blew yer cover the second you asked for 'er. Yer empathy was plain as day on yer face, ye wanted ta free 'er." He tsks with mock sobriety. "Shame really. Ye put up a helluva fight in the knivesies game."
With that, he stabs down at the magus. The cut digs deep into his wrist and Trell feels something course through is veins.
Despite the agony of the wound, Trell manages to hold on to the lip and not fall in, and shake off the poison on Devargo's spiked gauntlet to boot.
Meanwhile, in the pit, the figure in the shadows steps forward, the mandibles on its spiderlike face clacking, pale shafts of torchlight glinting off its leathery purple hide. The ettercap makes a series of clicking noises as something green and unhealthy dribbles from its mouth. To Destriant's horror, it speaks.
[color=green]"SSsooo longgkkk sinccce I feddd... You lookkkk-k-k fat and full of ffffluidssssk-k-k-k."[/color]
It shambles forward, making more clicking noises, and another, smaller figure scuttles out of the webs, as if called by the creature's clicking mandibles: a bizarre purple spider the size of a housecat. It lunges at Destriant, but its fangs bounce off his armor.
The ettercap does not attack; it stands back and watches, as if waiting for something.
[color=green]
Andakos (19/23 hp)
Thug 2 (0 dmg)
Thug 4 (5 dmg)
Thug 5 (0 dmg)
Thug 6 (7 dmg)
Maelis (20/22 hp, 5 Images)
House Drake (0 dmg)
Devargo (0 dmg)
Chittersnap (0 dmg)
Spider (0 dmg)
Destriant (21/21 hp, 6 NL)
Trell (6/23 hp)
[/color=green]
Destriant grabs his shield from where it hung on his belt before standing up as cautiously as possible, trying not to expose himself.