Booker looks at the damage to his shirt and thinks I'll have to sew this up later... before waiting his turn to climb along the rope.
Booker hangs above the alley, which is empty of zombies for the moment, his hands slick with sweat, his own considerable mass slowing him down...
Zindarel sighs at her less-than graceful companions. She continues to keep her rifle trained on the zombies below, ready to shoot should her friends fall!
Booker pauses for a moment, gets his balance and makes the crawl.
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Once everybody else is across, Zindarel stands and steps onto the clothesline. Holding her mithral tree horizontally to use as a balancing aid, the elf swiftly and effortlessly crosses to the opposite building.
Sturdy granite blocks anchor each corner of this brick-and mortar building. Like the other buildings along this stretch of road, there are no windows on the ground floor. A stout stone chimney juts from the flat roof, providing ventilation for a large forge on the first floor and channeling heat through the upper apartment.
You're met at the window by Rickard himself. He’s a tall, balding man with an ample belly and a thick, curling moustache that hasn’t yet succumbed to the encroaching gray already claiming the fringe of hair around his pate. Rickard stands by to quietly assist you as you make your way across the clothesline, extending a large and calloused hand to steady you as they pass through the window. Once all of you have crossed the line, Rickard quickly shuts the window once more.
“You lot must be making your way to the theater to see what this nightmare is all about, eh?”
Stomping down the stairs to his shop, Rickard can be heard hushing a large dog with a muttered “Quiet, Rosie,” before rifling about and returning with an iron lockbox. Pulling a matching iron key from a leather cord around his neck, Rickard quickly opens the box, revealing that it has been stuffed to the brim with pre-packaged ammo.
“Take what you need, then. I’ve got more to spare, and anything that gets through the front door will have to deal with my cannon first!”
Doc grabs a few fistfuls of cartridges, "Thanks...you wouldn't have a secret tunnel connecting to the theater would you?"
"No. Nothing like that," says Mrs. Rickard, speaking up for her husband.
"But the way you got in here gives me an idea. The next house over belongs to the Scothwels. Now, mister and missus Scothwel planned to be at the first showing of the play; I’m afraid I might have seen Mr. Scothwel lumbering up the street chasing after some unfortunate people a few moments ago. That means there shouldn’t be anyone in their home. If you can shimmy out the window and into their house like you did ours, it’s a short hop across the street to the theater. If you’re quick, quiet, and lucky, you could probably scoot in there without attracting the attention of the undead gathered in the square.”
"Hmm...I mean, I don't think they would mind." She digs into her side pouch and rummages around for a minute before pulling out a smaller pouch. "Ha. Haven't used these in while." She begins putting together her concealable thieves tools.
Doc places a pick behind each of her ears and approaches the clothesline,"Here we go"
Once across, she steadies herself and begins fiddling with the shutters.
Booker watches on as Doc shows off her skills and nods in approval.
Zindarel restocks her ammunition, then keeps watch on the street below as Doc does her thing.
”Thanks!”, says Zakzak. He ignores the lockbox, and heads for the kitchen.
Followed closely by a worried and scowling Mrs. Rickard.
_____________________________________________________________
Doc balances beautifully on the clothesline, reaches the far window and in a trice has unlocked it and slipped inside. The house seems to be empty.
The crowd of zombies in the street don't seem to have stumbled into the alleyway yet.
Zindarel once more effortlessly crosses the clothesline.
Booker does take a moment to stock up on ammo, hopefully not enough to make him heavy enough to break the ropes.
Booker, are you also going to cross over?
You are all now in the Scothwel Cafe.
A simple two-story building stands at the end of the street. While its first story is brick and mortar like the other buildings in the area, its second floor is made of expensive imported oak, dulled by age but still sturdy and possessed of a dull polish that indicates the owner must have taken great pride in caring for the precious material.
The theater is just across the street. The second-floor balcony of the Scothwel residence permits you see that the zombies have thinned out, though there are still several in the street, with one or two still coming out of the theater.
Booker looks over to Doc and makes quiet walking noises with one hand on the palm of the other and then shrugs.
”Stealth’s the way to go. You three cross first—I’ll follow, once the coast is clear,” Zindarel says. Once more, she rests her rifle on the windowsill to provide overwatch.
Doc pulls her dueling pistol just in case and darts across the roadway.
Despite his size Booker is quiet if nothing else.
Zindarel follows behind Zakzak. Seeing him about to step into a zombie’s line of sight, she reaches out and pulls him back. ”Careful there, Zakzak. Patience here would be prudent. Just follow my lead,” the elf whispers.
Silent as a mouse, she creeps across the street, beckoning the goblin to follow once the coast is clear.
__________________________________________________________________
In the distance, you can hear screams and regular gunfire as the growing zombie horde fights against the distant Shieldmarshals, Alkenstar's elite defense force. But just now, here at the Aldivur Company Theater House, the mass of undead has thinned just enough for you to slip in the front door.
Over the door, the marquis touts tonight's play: The First Sin of Pharasma. The fine furnishings of this theater, including velvet seat cushions, polished marble aisles, and expensive silk draperies, are marred by blood and other, fouler liquids. The elevated stage at the far end of the theater features a gloomy tableau of painted wood and canvas designed to resemble a decrepit cemetery. The display is decorated with religious iconography that seems to twist and warp when looked upon for more than a moment.
On the stage, a stylishly-dressed yet obviously dead man and woman act out scenes in The First Sin of Pharasma. Standing at the foot of the stage is a foul, blackened zombie, watching dumbly.
Four finely-appointed theater-goers mill about in the center of the theater as you enter. As yet, none of them react to your presence.
"Hmmm...must of been a good play....it knocked them dead" Doc says looking around for laughter that hopefully comes.
"So you all think there is anyone left alive."
Booker shakes his head rather than laughing and puts a finger to his mouth and whispers "Remember, we're on the quiet plan."
From there Booker creeps up to the doors, pondering closing them for safety but worried about the noise.
Zindarel raises her rifle and keeps it trained on the nearest zombie while the others determine the best way to proceed.
"Whelp, lets get this party started." Doc says pulling her Dragon Mouth Pistol out.
"Booker, want to start off with a bang?"
Booker nods, waits for everybody to be ready and then raises his big loud scattergun as he moves up to a nearby table to set up a good firing spot.
Once everybody is ready Booker will fire at green assuming nothing has gone horribly wrong in the meantime.
Doc will move in as well, trying to keep cover.
The team quietly lines up shots, but it seems the undead are more wary than they appeared. Only Zindarel is first off the mark.
Initiative
STATUS
Zindarel -
Purple Zombie -
Cyan Zombie -
Green Zombie -
Orange Zombie -
Doc -
Booker -
Pink Zombie -
Zakzak - 29/36 hp
Black Zombie -
Red Zombie -
Zindarel moves forward to one of the tables. She fires at the nearest zombie's head, then takes cover as she reloads her rifle.
Zindarel's mithral tree lines up and hums. The RED zombie's head explodes like a ripe melon and the creature falls bonelessly to the floor.
Two other zombies shamble slowly forward towards Zakzak. The two on the stage appear to take no notice of you despite the thunderous discharge and the heightened moaning.
Doc levels both of her pistols at blue and fires.
doubled
piercing +1 5' splash
She then reloads her dragon mouth pistol.
Booker shakes his head If only I'd been faster..."
Nonetheless he fires at teal
He then moves over and slams the but of his gun into green.
Doc fires twice into the chest of the nearby shambler, and Booker blows its head off with his huge gun. Booker also smashes the butt of his rifle into another zombie. Pink stumbles over and tries to grab Booker, battering him in the meantime.
STATUS
Zindarel -
Purple Zombie -
Green Zombie - 7 damage
Orange Zombie -
Doc -
Booker - 30/38 hp
Pink Zombie - 1 damage
Zakzak - 29/36 hp
Black Zombie -