He’s quiet for a moment, and his eyebrows furrow.
”You mean like, that... one...?” he asks, pointing to a sign hanging from an empty shelf bearing the Toys R Us mascot.
”I’m just a contractor. Didn’t even know they were zombies. Some people will do anything to avoid eye contact with laborers,” he says.
Franklin looked at the man skeptically, arching an eyebrow, "Riiiight, and what exactly were you contracted to do in an abandoned toy shop full of walking corpses?" Aware that things might devolve with the rather large fellow, the accountant started side-stepping away from the group, keeping his body square with the man to be fully prepared should he attack.
Franklin looked at the man skeptically, arching an eyebrow, "Riiiight, and what exactly were you contracted to do in an abandoned toy shop full of walking corpses?"
Hearing the wisdom in Franklin's words, Brother Joe pulls his rapier while holding the bottlecap beacon high.
The man’s eyes narrow at the question. He doesn’t seem to be a particularly skilled liar; it takes him a while to think of a response. Instead...
He books it.
Last Call goes after him!
”Kill them kill them KILL THEM!” he roars, and you hear groaning and shuffling feet as he moves at a sprint down the aisle, trying to turn and slamming into the shelf briefly before disappearing from view.
As the group pursues, the corner begins to fill with zombies—all women, most blonde.
Not exactly surprised by the man's sudden departure, the accountant started running after him, rather glad he had decided to not go the traditional sword and board route of adventuring. He'd probably trip over his boots and slice himself.
Franklin's eyes widened as the dead women started to flood the aisle behind the fleeing perp. If the man controlled these things, maybe they would stop when he did. Seeing the first thing approaching, he ran diagonally, leaping off the ground towards the shelving to her side, then springing back to the aisle. To the young man's chagrin, it was rather clumsy due to the shelving being less anchored than one would think, but it ultimately got the job done.
Faith followed the others, aiming to take one of the zombies out by the knees on her way past. A popped limb should slow the undead down - they might not feel it, but the joint wouldn't carry the weight regardless of the pain felt.
Following the petite calistrian, Joe uses his relative bulk to bowl through the blonde mob.
Docta G had, or at least claimed he had, enough experience with crowds of adoring fans to be able to nimbly dodge his way through the zombies.
Faith sees the small, packed crowd and takes decisive action—she collides into a pair of knees like a wrecking ball.
Well... maybe more like a bowling ball—and the undead women are the pins, half of them falling over each other as Faith stumbles to keep her feet.
Docta G hops over a falling lady, while Franklin takes a quick hop off the shelf. The off-balance zeds are no match for Joe’s own charge, and pretty soon the whole group is back in hot pursuit.
The man looks behind himself as you round the corner, swearing under his breath as he makes a beeline for the front entrance. He crashes through the automated front door, hollering as he does for a “Jeff.”
Last Call pounds after him, but shards of broken glass are liable to slow them down...
Brother Joe keeps pace with the ugly deadfu<ker. Witnessing the dangerous mess made by the retreating necrophile, instead of slowing down, the caydenite pours on the speed. "Tóìnnéán Twìnklé!" Brother Joe recites as he runs through the glass.
Brow furrowing at the sudden patch of glass in front of the group, the accountant just dove through the portal, hoping to turn his jump into a forward roll and continue his momentum. If he could pull it off. If not, he'd probably just brain himself on the concrete and hope everyone else took down the bad guy.
Docta G's surprising perceptiveness combined with his supernatural speed (enhanced by his flamin' hot bars) allows him to easily make his way across the glass.
With the zombies slowed for a moment at the very least, Faith took off after the others. She could keep anything off the others back, as she assumed the escaping
Last Call is practically on the stranger's heels at this point, and the group practically dance between the still-falling shards of glass-- and Joe, in fact, barely seems to touch the ground with each step.
As you pass the frame of what used to be a door, you can't help but feel like, if someone made a movie of this, they would be hard-pressed to make it look cooler.
Maybe if the store exploded behind you?
Something to consider, perhaps, for when you tell the story in interviews when you're big-time hot-shots.
Anyway, back to the current situation:
You all thud out onto the parking lot. The stranger turns to look over his shoulder again.
"Leave me ALONE!" he bellows.
You see, behind him, what is, absolutely, unmistakably... a giraffe.
You have no idea how you missed it before-- it must have been somewhere else, perhaps-- but the stranger is making a beeline for it. A small set of stairs rises up to it, and the man rises up them as fast as he can while a goblin, clinging to the goblin's neck with one arm and waving the man upward with the other, encourages him.
Franklin barely noticed the giraffe and attached goblin at first, so intent was he upon the perp the group was chasing. Starting to sweat, he grinned as he slowly closed the distance with the man, his eyes widening as he saw the stairs and the large creature next to it.
As the man started to climb the steps, the accountant continued running at him full speed, leaping a few feet before the steps in an attempt to flying tackle the man off the stairs and to the ground.
"Dammit!" Joe shouted. "I don't have any ranged attacks!" Docta G was nearby, so the caydenite ran over to the gnome rapper and taps his shoulder. "Doc! You gotta stop him!"
Charging after the others as best she could, Faith reached out with one hand and cast Grease of the runner. If it worked he wouldn't be going anywhere. Maybe.
Doc charges forward, and he raps, "You a wack motha 'ucka, you really is trippin, I guess pretty soon boy, you gonna be slippin!'
Docta G darts forward with Cayden Cailean's blessing; the gnome feels almost as if he is gliding on the world's smoothest heelies as he drops a fresh beat, and manages to tag the stranger's ankle as he starts going up the steps.
Franklin's leap takes him right over G's head, and as a slick of grease splashes onto the stairs, the accountant's arms wrap around the man's hefty middle, and both of them hit the steps with a multi-stage WHUMP as different parts of the stranger's body hit different steps.
What's more, since the grease slick was placed fairly close to the giraffe...
Its hooves slip and slide, and it goes down, spilling its goblin rider to the ground!
The rider manages to tuck and roll-- although he also lands in grease, so--
--he manages to pop up to his feet! Agile little gob.
Round 1
Docta G
Tattoo Guy (-9, Prone, Grappled)
Giraffe (Geoffrey?) (Prone)
Goblin
Franklin (Grappling)
Faith
Brother Joe
This is a parking lot, so we're just gonna Theater of the Mind it.
"I don't suppose you'd consider surrendering?" Faith called as she moved towards the carnage her Grease spell had caused. Sometimes a liberal application of grease was very useful. "It would involve a lot less pain."
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Docta G hits play on his boombox and starts rapping, "You necromantic hooligan sworn to Urgathoa, you picked a fight with Docta G, rap flame-throwa! You done some bad sh!t and provoked my ire, so Faith and Joe and Franklin, bring the f#$kin' fire!"
The Urgathoan man growls and reaches out to touch Franklin, who's still got him around the waist.
His hand glows like a blacklight as he reaches out, squirming to get a good vantage point...
...and manages to grip Franklin at the clavicle.
Franklin feels necromatic energy writhe and surge down into his body, like roots that tear apart the soil as they enter, a horrid cold followed by a sharp nothing. Thankfully, it doesn't go far enough to affect his heart.
Meanwhile, the rest of the group has more to deal with as the giraffe finds its footing and rises to its full height; you can't help but feel that it may actually be an adolescent giraffe. Either that, or you'd always just kind of assumed they were... bigger, somehow.
Its rider clambers up on its back and draws a bow!
"Toys are YOU!!!" he hollers as he works on finding an arrow...
Round 1/2
Docta G
Tattoo Guy (-9, Prone, Grappled)
Giraffe (Geoffrey?) (Prone)
Goblin
Franklin (Grappling) (-8, Will Save for half)
Faith
Brother Joe
The bold may act!
Seeing his padawan fall to an unhanded evil attack, Brother Joe is pissed. The caydenite drops his god's weapon. Something more personal is needed, Lord, the cleric beseethes The Drunken God.
Joe advances upon the urgathoan, reeling back his now flaming fist. Through gritted teeth, Joe growls "I don't wanna grow up! I'm a Toys-R-Us Kid!!!"
Franklin felt the man's touch and winced in anticipation as the cold, necromantic energy sapped his life's energy and spread a cold tingling throughout his body. The young man gritted his chattering teeth and worked his way to a more advantageous position, attempting to smash his flaming fist into the creep's face.
"I've been a toy. I prefer to play with mine." Digging her toes into the asphalt of the carpark, she begins to charge at the Goblin archer and his mount, summoned greatsword now glowing with the power of music, and more importantly, fire.
Doc keeps rapping as he shoots a burst of light at the goblin.
Joe and Franklin manage to slam their knuckles into their target; Joe's is a little less satisfying as it slams into the fellow's shoulder, but Franklin manages to land a good one right in the nose! There's a dull crunch, and a sharp cuss, and his face is quickly looking... well, bad. The burn isn't helping.
Still, he doesn't seem ready to surrender. He grabs a knife from his pocket-- wait, is that knife glowing?--, tosses the sheath...
...and jams it, hard, into Franklin's shoulder.
Now both of them have blood on the pavement!
Meanwhile, a few yards across the parking lot, a streak of light shoots over Faith's head, and the goblin shrieks with fury as he is unable to shake it! Faith charges toward it and swings her blade-- but even the distracted gob sees the blade coming and dips out of the way just in time.
He guides his mount away--
--and fires a shot at the tiefling that sees fit to get in dangerous proximity.
He misses pretty broadly; the arrow goes skittering off and lays on the shattered glass by the doorway.
Round 2/3
Docta G
Tattoo Guy (-20, Prone, Grappled)
Giraffe (Geoffrey?)
Goblin (Dazzled)
Franklin (Grappling) (-15)
Faith (+AoO on Gob or Giraffe)
Brother Joe
The bold may act!
Franklin gasped in pain, tears filling his eyes as the knife wound burned in his shoulder suddenly and terribly. He registered the blood flung from the blade as his own, but furrowed his brow and focused, growling through the pain as he refused to relinquish his grip on the thug even as the man brandished the dagger underneath him, jockeying for position and then slamming his fist down at the man's face once again, hearing and feeling a satisfying thud.
Faith took the chance to swing at the little sod as he tried to move away.
Grunting as the movement didn't land a clean blow, Faith followed the giraffe/Goblin combo and tried again.
Brother Joe grinned at Franklin's precision in keeping the undead fu<ker down. The caydenite hammers down on the prone attacker along with his padawan.
[dice=Unarmed Strike (nonlethal, fire)]1d20 + 3
[dice=Dmg.]1d3 + 1 + 1d4
Seeing his padawan has taken care of the urgathoan, the caydenite stands and picks up his rapier, to turn an face the goblin rider. Brother Joe moves to flank the giraffe along with Faith.
Docta G points at the goblin and yells, ”Listen up! We took out yo’ buddy, and I’m sure you’ve heard about how Docta G rap battled a goblin so hard he f&@$in’ exploded! Give up, you gon’ be aight!”
Franklin returns at least twice as good as he's gotten! The man's face goes slack and he falls unconscious.
Meanwhile, Faith's little legs carry her forward, and while her swings don't quite connect to the panicking giraffe, her third attempt-- hopping and swinging with plenty of speed, if not quite practiced grace-- manages to come back with a coating of goblin blood, both on her blade and a splatter on the parking lot.
By the time she lands, Joe has found his place on the other side of the quadruped.
The gob, now bleeding and hearing about a goblin who heard rap and exploded!?!?!, surrounded, with a fourth on the way, does the only sensible thing and tosses his bow on the ground, well beyond his reach, and raises his hands.
Holding his rapier out toward the goblin, Brother Joe motions the goblin to come down off the giraffe. "Franklin. Don't suppose you brought those kinky manacles I seen you purchase the first time we met?"
The goblin slowly dismounts the giraffe, and stands on the Joe side of it-- although the rest of you can see the two of them well enough through the giraffe's narrow legs.
Keeping her sword raised and an eye on the Goblin, Faith added, "I'm being very bad about all this, I didn't even bring any rope."
Franklin was amazed how little his wounds hurt him at the moment, though the practical side of his brain was sure that was just the adrenaline and shock. The knife wound would likely require stitches, though it would be a cool scar story, he supposed.
Snapping out of his reverie at Joe's question, the accountant's still-flushed face managed to turn a shade darker. "I bought them for apprehending a perp, Joe...that's just all they had." Franklin tossed the manacles to Joe and Faith, wondering if he should try to secure the other man. After a moment, he shrugged...the guy seemed out cold and probably wouldn't feel too great upon waking.
Snapping out of his reverie at Joe's question, the accountant's still-flushed face managed to turn a shade darker. "I bought them for apprehending a perp, Joe...that's just all they had." Franklin tossed the manacles to Joe and Faith, wondering if he should try to secure the other man.
"Only joking, Franklin", Joe chuckles as he catches the manacles. "We'll have to work on that sense of humor of yours, my student."
Making a turn-around motion with his hands, the caydenite conveys to the goblin to turn around and put his hands behind his back. The goblin reluctantly complies as the cleric cuffs the giraffe rider."Okay. Now what?"
"Did you guys leave the Necromancer alive? We should bind him too. If someone has some rope I'll make sure he's unable to move, cast and very, very uncomfortable. After that, we need to call the cops. We can't mess around with dead girls." She looked at the Goblin. "And now would be a great time to learn English if you don't want to be handed over too, because I can't talk to you and no one else can, either." Or could they? Faith wasn't sure if one of the others could speak Goblin...but almost all the one's she'd met could communicate without issue.
Tattoo guy’s still breathing. His broken nose is trickling blood... albeit quite slowly. It looks like Franklin managed to avoid hitting anything too vital. Probably.
The goblin spits... and then speaks, wrists tugging against the manacles.
Franklin looked at Joe a bit confused, wondering why the cleric was calling him his student. Maybe it was the blood loss, but it took him a moment to realize that the Caydenite was joking about that, as well. Kind of, anyway.
The accountant stood up, wincing as the knife wounds burned uncomfortably. Franklin was starting to feel rather...ecstatic. The fight with the goblins had been in earnest, but had almost seemed a joke. This had been all too real, with mortal consequences if things had gone the other way. The young man didn't know when he had felt so hurt yet so exhilarated!
He scowled as the goblin started speaking again, wondering what gibberish he was droning on about.
Doc says in Goblin, "I know whatchu sayin' you little bastard! You betta' surrender! And who you callin' wretch anyway? If I recall right, we weren't the ones who wimped out."
The goblin begins to say something in Infernal. Maybe. It certainly sounds like Infernal, but it doesn't quite sound like words? And--
Oh, he's hocking a loogie. He spits at the Doc.
And gets him right in the eye.
He cackles; that bit is clear in any language.
For what it's worth, Geoffrey mostly just stands around. If it's possible for a giraffe to look confused, he certainly does.
Faith sighed. She nodded her head. "Xe tyrziuldh va." With a jut of her chin the giant wasp buzzed into life from her shoulder, floating over to the creature and landing on the Goblin's head. "Tmuw uw ph oruylv, fdutcyr. L pdyiwy zrh vorv ryweytz ph oruylvw, ar fdutcyr sudd rypulv haf smh kyulq eaduzy uw xe qaav zmulq." She smiled cheerfully. "Aeadaquwy. Nas."
"This is my friend, Flicker. Please try and respect my friends, or Flicker will remind you why being polite is a good thing."
"Apologise. Now."
Brother Joe took out his cell phone and called the police, telling them about the quest they want to turn in, and about the urgathoan and his 'playthings'.