Feeling daring and wanting to show off a little, Doc steps forwards.
She tries to balance on the line and dash across.
Looking like a circus performer, she runs across, diving through the open window, rolling and getting up in one swift motion!
She tips her hat at the others.
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.
Doc Featherton dashes across the tightrope and flips off gravity. As she reaches the window, a calloused hand extends as a man speaks. "I do say, come, quickly. Before those grayskins tear your arm off."
"I'm heading over. Who knows what's in there." Booker stows his gun and tries to balance across the rope. He's not only a huge human being, but he's also got a great center of gravity. Making his way across.
"Make way, I'm coming in Doc."
"Come on, Zakzak. I know you can do this. Just watch," Zindarel says to reassure her waist high companion.
She kips up onto the rope and starts across.
It's not quite as elegant as the good doctor, but it gets the job done.
Zakzak's cheeks, already flushed from embarrassment go even redder as he watches the other three easily make their way across. He works on getting himself together, standing upright and as tall as he can. He steels himself and tries one more time.
Having watched the other three on their techniques, he manages to make it across pretty confidently this time. He smiles up at Zindarel as he makes his landing. "I knew I could do it!"
Once you are all inside, the graying man slams the window shut. "That was mighty brave of you to move across like that. In my youth I may have tried to leap across, and break my neck. Maggie had to slap so much sense into me, I'm surprised my face hasn't turned red." He strokes his jet black mustache as his wife chuckles and offers some water.
"Oh, but where are my manners? Rickard Tuss, owner of Rickard's Gunnery and Sales." He bows to you. "Pharasma must be smiling upon me. I was going to buy tickets to the premiere, but Maggie, bless her heart, said she had a bad feeling about opening night. So we bought tickets for the second performance." A particularly loud groan from the streets quiets the room. "I don't think I can get a refund."
"You lot must be making your way to the theater to see what this nightmare is all about? Follow me.” Maggie opens the door as Rickard leads downstairs. A large dog perks up and stares at you before he mutters “Quiet, Rosie.”
He starts 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 Maggie's cannon first!" Maggie's gentle eyes scan the store quickly, slowing down to scan your weapons and a closet labelled Stay Out!
Zakzak is very excited, all of this was very usually "not allowed", shooting guns inside, walking from roof to roof on a tightrope, breaking into someone's upper floor. He was didn't waste any time grabbing some powder packages.
He asks; "Got any silverware I can borrow? This baby doesn't really use the boring stuff" However, he is almost immediately distracted by the siren's song of the Stay Out! sign. While staring at the door he asked hopefully and curiously "Whatsa, what's in there?" His feet about to start bringing him closer almost involuntarily.
“The cannon? Heheh! Indeed. Forged her myself during my enlistment with the shieldmarshals.” Rickard stands tall. “Never know when you might need to knock down a door, a dragon, or a horde of hungry shamblers. ’Fraid it won’t do you lot much good, though. I took the wheels off of it years ago and bolted it down after it nearly rolled over our dog Rosie during an earthquake. It’ll still knock anyone who comes through those doors uninvited right outta their boots, though!”
Maggie grins. “I have some old silverware for you, Zakzak. Come on.” She leads Zakzak to a pile of rusty forks, knives and spoons. Some are decades old. "I... collected some junk in my youth. Most of it worthless. Some of it valuable. I snagged the heart of a shieldmarshal before he arrested me, heehee!"
"Many thanks, Rickard. Hopefully the Lady of Graves will smile on us if we're blasting holes in the undead! Don't suppose you've seen anything of interest outside?" Doc says hopefully.
"What's the best way from here to the playhouse itself? Or do you think the prop and costume store might give us more of an idea what is going on. I usually like to have an out planned before I jump into something. This is different."
"I knew you could, too, Buddy," Zindarel replies to Zakzak with a smile when he lands in the upper room of the building. She had watched him closely the whole time he was crossing the rope, only glancing down occasionally to see where he would end up if he fell.
She grabs another 40 rounds of ammo when it is offered. If she needs more than that there's much more trouble than any amount of ammo will solve.
As Zakzak eyeballs the no no closet, she edges toward it, planting the butt of her gun on the floor in front of it and leaning casually on it, as though it were a staff, her hand holding the barrel and none of her body parts over the end of it.
"We might actually have a use for that cannon," she comments, thoughtfully, eyeing the front door. "If we need to make a break for it through there, it would be nice to have at least part of our path cleared..."
Maggie's prideful smile fades a bit as Zindarel suggests going loud.
“Much as my husband might want a chance to show off my cannon, I’d prefer you didn’t try to go out through our front door. It does take a bit to reload and there’s an awful lot of those shamblers out there. Poor Rosie’s teeth aren’t what they used to be and I hate to think of her getting hurt protecting us.”
“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.”
Rickard thinks about Doc Featherton's questions. “Interesting things... Well, the undead hordes of course. I think it started at the play premiere somehow. We had tickets to the next showing and were just changing out of our work clothes when the screaming started. We saw the first wave of those undead blighters come pouring out of the theater shortly after the first yell.”
"I know the prop and costume store has a lot of costumes, and it is right next to the theater. It may be worth your visit. But you'll be wide open- you'll have to either sneak your way around, or make a dash for the door. You could also shoot them, but who knows how many more there are."
Zakzak's attention from the door is torn away by the mention of costumes. "Yeah! Costumes, then we can disguise ourselves as anything, I can be a prince, and Zindarel, you can be dressed as a fairy, and uh, Booker you can be a, uh, tree? And Doc can be a witch!"
"...or we could disguise ourselves as zombies..." Zindarel points out.
"I dunno, I'm not much of an actor, but I know I can be quiet at least." Booker too is intrigued at this cannon in the closet. "Mind if I take a look at it? I worked the deck guns for a year or two, love me some heavy artillery!"
Booker also snags a pile of ammo, just in case.
The forbidden closet of mystery gives way to a well-polished piece of machinery. The cannon is a shiny white. It's been cleaned and maintained, but Booker can catch a whiff of black powder. This thing could blow a hole in house walls, but the noise would wake the dead.
Everyone notices the mismatched wheels on the cannon's sides, as well as the broken axis. Heads slowly turn in Maggie's direction.
"Rickard, I've been trying to repair the cannon. It's slow going but it seemed worth the time. It's... not ready to move yet."
"I do like the idea of being all stealthy. I'm good at that. Staying out of sight as long as we can sounds good. Thanks for the ammo, Rickard."
Rickard shakes as many hands as your politeness will allow. "Good journeys. When you find the source of this horror, give it what for!"
The Scothwel residence lies a few feet away from the Gunnery. You see a clothesline connecting the two buildings and it would be possible to tightrope or climb across. But the window is shut.
Zakzak jumps up, hoping to make up for last time. "I can get across and I have the tools to open that window."
He easily gets across with a triumphant bow at the end.
"Now to pick this lock!"
He pulls out the spoon gun and carefully aims at the lock.
Glass shatters as well as the area surrounding the lock.
"Ta da! Alright, come on over! Err, uh, watch for glass shards though" He also carefully pockets some of the larger shards for more ammunition later.
Some of the undead amass in the alleyway below, moaning in disappointment. Zakzak is hero, not a snack and he leaps through the shattered window, making a three point landing with his spoon gun raised for extra effect.
The Scothwel Cafe has two large bay windows looking over the street and smaller windows from the north and west. The sign on the front door reads: Closed early to enjoy the play- Mr. and Mrs. Scothwel
He looks out the window to Zindarel, Booker and Doc Featherton and waits for them to cross up and over the zombie pit.
Doc Featherton looks at the zombie pit and exhales.
"Here goes nothing!
She is unsteady as she starts. She pauses to shift her guns slightly.
"It's not quite so tense as the other." She says, making excuses for her hesitant crossing.
Zindarel cringes at the sound of clattering silverware and shattering glass.
She gives Zakzak a thumbs up, though. "Good job, little buddy," she calls out, then eyes the gathered zombies, below.
She waits for Doc to get across then takes her turn.
It really isn't as tight and she starts to fall.
She manages to catch the rope (I hope) and hauls herself up to try again after dangling for a few moments catching her breath and trying NOT to contemplate trying to escape a horde of zombies after breaking a leg or spraining an ankle by falling.
With her adrenaline pumping, she hesitates.
Then, finally gets across.
[ooc]Of course, ignore everything after the catching the rope if she doesn't catch the rope with that save.[/dice]
Zindarel tiptoes across the loosened, not-as-tense tightrope. Doc Featherton was right- it is a problem. The rope grabs her rifle and pulls her off towards the undead. Her quick reflexes snatch the rooftop.
"Dearie, you need to balance yourself a bit more." Maggie grabs a worn mop and hands it to Zindarel. "When I started my career, I needed a rod to make sure I didn't tip over. Here, try it out. The town guard was much nicer to me than those things."
Zindarel shrugs and tries it out. It takes a moment to gain her balance, but then she scampers across and into the Scothwel's store.
Maggie looks at Booker. "Looks like it's just you left, dear. There will be plenty of tea and biscuits waiting once you get back."
"Biscuits? Mmmm, love me some biscuits.." Booker looks torn on the situation but the sounds of gunfire brings him around. "I'll be back for biscuits and maybe we can get that cannon fixed up after!" He gives a boyish grin and heads for the window.
He runs across without a thought, ready to blast anything that looks dead.
"Good work breaking that window. I'm sure they won't notice anyhow." Booker starts to give the place a good look over for anything helpful, or tasty.
"Booker, you constantly amaze me. Right, let's search the place." Doc shakes her head as he charges over. The big guy was good to have alongside you, even if he was a bit over-ethical sometimes.
Perception +9 to search/investigate the place.
Zakzak claps as everyone makes it across and gets excited as Booker and Doc start searching around. "Ah yeah! Let's loot the place! I mean, uh, look for clues?"
Doc Featherton sees it first: a fake panel next to the Scothwel's bed. She removes it to see a gun safe. Zindarel, Zakzak and Booker all notice.
Locked, of course.
"Hold up Zakzak, lemme try something a bit quieter first." Booker digs out a crowbar from his pack and taps it into a seam before putting his back into it.
It pops off "Ugh, lemme try again."
"Ooof!" He goes down in a heap.
"Does anyone have tools I can borrow? I lost mine just before we came here." Doc says, looking around.
Zakzak looks confused for a moment as he looks to both her guns. "Err, don't you have two already? Or do you mean the boring way? I collected some stuff but never really tried using them since blasting the locks usually works."
Zakzak digs out a leather roll full of thin bits of metal and springs and hands it over. "You can use these. If it doesn't work I'll show you how to do it the fun way."
"Thanks Zakzak. You seem amazingly resourceful. Good to have you along." She says, taking the tools and getting to work.
"Yup. Amazingly resourceful," Zindarel says. There seems to be a hint of a double meaning to her tone but the bulk of the statement is quiet pride.
She keeps her mithral tree handy and an eye out for any one, living or dead in the building with them.
Opening the safe reveals a hidden gem. You've seen these beauties before. A combination weapon. A one handed pistol with a bladed barrel the size of your forearm. Picking it up, it works like a pistol and like a dagger without interference. On the barrel you read the inscription: Piercing Wind. Don't leave home without it, my love.
You also find 3 labeled healing potions and a pouch containing a dozen cut garnets worth a total of 18 gp. The Scothwels aren't going to use it.
Zakzak whistles as the Piercing Wind is revealed. "Looks nice, but too fancy for my taste."
He busies himself emptying the Scothwels' cutlery drawers.
"I guess the next step will be to make a break for it for the theater. Unless you guys want to try and sneak around to the side? I can make a bush!" He points at a small bush-shaped feather token pinned to his armor.
"We'll pocket those. That Piercing Wind is kinda like my Problem here, only a bit more fancy." She gestures at her bayonet/duelling pistol. "I could use it but do any of you need a weapon to cut Zombies who get too close?"
Doc hands out the healing potions to the others. "I'm a physician, so in a pinch you'll need these more than me."
While you decide on what to do about the Piercing Wind, you also have time to consider your next move. You could go to the theater directly, it's about 20 feet from here. You could also go to the prop and costume storage to dress up as zombies.
No matter which way you go, you'll be in the open street. More zombies will attack you, and maybe you're fine with that. Or maybe you'd prefer to be a bit more quiet.
"If something gets close enough for me to use that thing on them, I've already failed," Zindarel says, patting her extra long long arm lovingly.
She nods at Zakzak. "Time to make a break. Fast and quiet and no blasting unless you have to."
For some reason she looks at Zakzak AND Booker as she says the last.
Doc shrugs and takes the Piercing Wind.
"We're closest to the theatre now. We may as well sneak across and take out anything that spots us."
Booker watches the lock click open without the use of brute force or gunpowder, he shrugs "I guess there's more than one way to peel a banana." He stomach groans at the mention of food. If it wasn't for his size you'd think he was part goblin, at least his stomach.
"Sneaky quiet is good. Maybe we can create some sort of diversion somewhere's else and then sneak over to the playhouse while they're distracted?" He pulls out a few wads of powder and smiles..
Zakzak looks a little hurt at Zindarel's comment. "Hey, I can be sneaky if I want to!"
He does get a little excited about Booker's idea. "A diversion, huh? Whataya thinking? Maybe some kind of explosion!? Or someone could run around and meet up with the rest of us later?"
While Doc Featherton and Booker decide on who will use Piercing Wind, Zakzak thinks about making a distraction while sneaking away.
"It's yours, Booker." Doc smiles as she hands it to her partner.
"Thanks Doc!" Booker cherishes the gift like a pair of cheeseburgers at 1am, minus the eating part.
"Lemme whip up something here with a bit of gunpowder and this old can.. hrm..."
"One of you guys toss it, then I can keep an eye out to help if things go bad."
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Booker gets working on making something bright and loud.
Once everyone is ready, Doc Featherton creaks the door open. She spots the perfect target: a pile of dirty, greasy rags. Must have been dragged over here from the Powder Horn. The perfect solution. She takes Booker's gift, lights the fuse, and rolls it over towards the rags.
BOOM.
Sparks fly, crackle and pop loudly and the undead are eager to crowd around the source. Soon it gets so loud the rags burst into flame, burning some of the closer ones.
And yet, they keep looking. Searching for someone or something they will never locate.
Doc gives the OK signal and the team tries to figure out where to go next. Those flames won't last forever.
Doc looks over to everyone else, "Theatre? It's closer"
Zindarel watches the distraction with quiet bemused approval. "Well...there you go...blasting was the answer," she says, whispering despite the fact there are no enemies anywhere near enough to hear them.
"Theatre," she agrees with Doc with a nod.
Booker takes a long look at their handiwork before creeping towards the playhouse. "Quick now before more show up!"
Zakzak tears his eyes away from the beautiful explosion. "Good work big guy. Let's go!"
He bolts for the theater, trying to avoid notice.
With a loud, fiery distraction, you have no trouble entering the theater.
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.
You reach the open doors and realize this wooden door is heavy- and you figure loud. None of the zombies you've seen know how to use door handles, but there are definitely things going on inside the theater.
Whispering, Doc says "There are more in there. What do you think? Run in through the door, slam it shut behind us and take cover in the confusion? Blast 'em all and sift through the carnage afterwards?"
Booker gives Doc a high five once they all reach the playhouse "Nice toss Doc. Guess we better get ready to blast in here, but we need to make sure we got a way out first. Closing the door behind us could be bad, can we get through these windows?"